Page 52 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

He dropped his head back on the chair and nodded. “Okay. But I need details. You took away every authority, every bit of power I had. I want to know everything you’ve done with my daughter since that day. Every decision you made for her and her mother, everything you know about where they are now. I want a copy of every legal document that bears their names.” Despite his inebriated state, he arrested me with a stern look.

I returned a weak nod as my heart pumped heavily in my chest. “I’ll get you everything.”

I stood and crossed to the door.

“Who’s the girl?” he asked.

“Who?” I knew he was talking about Tara, but I didn’t want to put her in his path.

“Tara. Who is she?”

“She’s Amar’s friend,” I replied.

He glared at me, but I kept the confused look on my face until he nodded and returned to his drink.

Relief washed over me as I walked out of that room. I found Tara and Amar in the dining room, helping Mom clear the table. The light and laughter in this part of the house stood in stark contrast to the darkness and gloom I’d just walked away from. I could have all this—the smiles, the jokes, the love. Tara’s warm body against mine, her genuine spirit guiding mine like she did once before. When I walked up to them, I saw a light in Mom’s eyes too. She looked truly happy, unlike the façade she put up during Dad’s parties. I had seen her happy like this only in the company of one other person, Mihir’s mom.

A smile bloomed on my face. “What’s going on?”

“Amar and Tara were sharing some memories,” Mom said.

I glanced at Tara, but she promptly retreated to the kitchen.

“Can I help?” I asked Mom.

“We’re almost done here,” she said. “Go see if Durga needs help.”

I strode to the kitchen, and a burst of excitement coursed through me as I imagined myself in the same space as Tara. I found her putting away leftovers in glass containers.

When I stood beside her, she pointed to an empty container and a bowl of korma. “Make yourself useful.”

I poured the curry out, and snapped the lid closed. She handed me the rice next. When we were done, Mom and Durgaben retired to their rooms. We strolled into the backyard with a bottle of port and a perfectly aged Glenlivet. A gentle breeze flirted with the tiny lights around the pergola, and they twirled with glee. With my eyes set on Tara, I breathed in the beauty of the night.

After sampling both, Amar chose the wine, while Tara and I favored the liquid gold, as I knew we would. It was comforting to know some things hadn’t changed. We didn’t talk much. A few words between sips. But when I returned from a trip to the restroom, I caught Tara’s hushed voice. The air turned still as I stopped around the corner.

“…he’s a really nice guy. You’ll like him.”

“I’m happy for you,” Amar said, then after a moment. “What about Sameer?”

“What about him?”

“Have you told him?”

Silence.

“Are you going to?”

“It’s been years, Amar. I know he’s your cousin and your loyalties lie with him, but he was the one to cut off all contact when he left.”

“I meant it might be one way to help you move on.” In my mind, I could see his smile, like mine but warmer and kinder.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Tara’s voice was softer now. “You were there for me when it mattered most. I can never forget that.”

A sigh, but I couldn’t tell whose it was. I wanted to burst right in and confront them, but my evil, competitive side convinced me to continue eavesdropping.

“How do you feel about him?”

I held my breath.

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