Page 58 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

I caught him watching us, holding a wine glass, with no expression on his face. I quickly turned back to Sujit. “You never talk like that. Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?”

“Maybe I’ve missed you too much,” he said.

“I still can’t believe you’re here. You’re devious!”

“I can’t stay, though. I have a meeting tomorrow I can’t miss. We have a late-night flight back,” he said with his usual straightforwardness.

“What? But tomorrow is Saturday.”

“We’re starting a new project, darling. There are no weekends.”

I looked at Aai. “Are you leaving too?”

She nodded. “I can’t fly back alone.”

I looked at them both. “That’s not fair!”

“We can fight about it later.” He hooked his arm in mine. “This is your day to shine.”

I was back in the spotlight, only this time its glare dazzled me. It wasn’t my first time showcasing my work, but it was certainly the first time I was swimming in this depth of love and support. Paradoxically, it made me nervous.

“Let me introduce you to my friends,” I said, walking toward Amar and Sameer.

Aarti’s eyebrows shot up again when I introduced Sujit as my boyfriend. Perhaps the ruse Mihir and I had cooked up that evening had worked too well. But as we stood around talking, another bout of self-doubt hit me. And it hit hard.

I needed time alone. I rushed toward the restrooms and halted next to a bench, trying to gain control of my breath. A sinking feeling overshadowed me, like the world around me was melting and pulling me down to drown. I looked at my phone. I had a few minutes to get a handle on myself, but my fingers trembled, my eyelids felt heavy, and my body sagged against the wall.

Chapter 18

Sameer

Asharp pain imploded in my heart at the sight of Tara with Sujit. He looked at her with such adoration, and the way her face had lit up when she saw him walk in. I understood how she must feel every time she saw me with Aarti. Yes, I loved Tara, and yes, she knew it, but the painful reality of her having to confront Aarti and me together, every day, hit me as I shook hands with Sujit.

He was a striking fellow, a couple of inches taller than me, with skin smooth and dusky like Tara’s. As if that wasn’t enough, he had dimples when he smiled. And I got to see a lot of those dimples that evening. They made a stunning pair. I hated myself for thinking it, but he seemed to make her happy. Tara gushed about how he’d made it to her opening night despite his busy schedule. And he had brought along her mother, who displayed the same familiarity as if he were her own son. I had acted like a selfish, immature prick by announcing to her and half of my immediate family that I was still in love with her. For, though Tara and I might be pining for each other, here was a devoted man who would make her a better partner.

Stable, grounded, and soft-spoken, he was the yin to her yang. He was the calm Parvati to her turbulent Shiva. Tara and I were perhaps too alike, too volatile, and the events of the past few weeks had proven it. It was best that I gracefully removed myself from her life. I had a chance, and I blew it. Now it was sheer selfishness to demand her back in my life when she had finally found the happiness she deserved from the start.

This sudden resignation felt strange. Liberating and cloying at the same time, as if the boulder that had just landed on my heart was also my path to moksha. As my eyes landed on a happy Aarti, I decided I couldn’t deceive her any longer, but I needed to wait until it was the right time for her. I looked at Sujit, and a strange calm washed over me. I had made the right decision. Slowly, my gaze turned toward Tara. Her eyes flitted nervously, and her smile was vacant.

Something was wrong.

She excused herself and hurried toward the restrooms, but no one else seemed perturbed. Sujit and her mother were oblivious to her distress. But I knew. I felt it in my body. I counted to fifteen, then excused myself.

As I turned the wall separating the large gallery from the restrooms, I found her sitting on a bench with a distant look on her face. I rushed over and crouched before her.

“Hey.” I took her hand. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Her palms were cold and sweaty. There was a slight tremble in them, and her eyes looked dazed. Her breathing was heavy, as if she were having a panic attack.

“Tara, look at me.” I rubbed her hands between my palms.

She sucked in a sudden, jagged breath and grabbed onto my hand. “I’m scared, Sameer.”

“Scared of what?”

“I feel this weight so heavy I can barely breathe. So many people watching me today, I need to do right by them.”

“Look at me, sweetheart.” I lifted her chin, and her eyes met mine tentatively. “You don’t have to do right by anyone but yourself. Do you hear me?”

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