Page 87 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

I let out an exhale. “Turn over.”

She smiled, turned over, and snuggled into me. I pushed her fragrant hair over her shoulder and wrapped my hand around her waist.

“I feel like I can breathe again,” I said. “I was suffocated when I came here. Now I feel relieved. I don’t need anything else.”

She stroked my arm, and I placed a gentle kiss on the back of her neck just as my phone vibrated violently on the dresser. She turned around.

“It’s Mom,” I said, glancing at my watch. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off the bed and answered the phone.

“Yes, Ma?”

“Sameer, I’m sorry. I know you’re with Tara, but this is urgent.”

“It’s alright. What happened?”

“Sangita called,” Mom said without a preface. “She’s at the hospital again,”

“Oh!”

“You’ll need to be there for Riya if anything happens, Sameer. You need to get there as soon as possible.”

I looked at Tara’s calm face. She sat up and smiled at me, but I couldn’t smile back. I didn’t want to lose this moment with her, but I also didn’t want Riya to end up an orphan if Sangita passed away. How was I ever going to tell Tara about her?

“Yes, Ma. I’ll come right over, and we can hash out the details.” I evaded Tara’s eyes as I ended the call.

“Sameer?” Her sweet voice demanded.

“Another fire I need to put out.” I sighed as I lowered myself to the edge of her bed. “There’s something urgent I need to attend to in India.”

“In India?”

“There’s one last thing I haven’t told you yet.”

When I finished telling her about Sangita and Riya, her hands covered her startled, gaping mouth.

“You have another sister! This is huge, Sameer!” She blinked. “Oh, my darling!” She leapt forward to grab me in a hug. “No wonder you’ve been hurting for so long.” She held my face in her hands. “Did I just mess up your life again, Sameer? Please tell me the truth.”

I smiled a weary smile. “No, my love. You made everything right. Can we talk about this when I’m back?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“As soon as I can, possibly tomorrow morning. I’ll grab a bag with some clothes from my place then head over to my parents’.”

She sat up and hugged my back. “It will be alright, Sameer. You’re doing the right thing. I’ll be here when you return.”

I took her hand and kissed it, then willed myself off the bed.

On my way to the condo, I called Mom. “Ma, I’m going home to pack a bag. I’ll stay at yours tonight, then leave on the next available flight.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Does Dad know?”

“No.” She dropped her voice “But we might have to tell him now.”

“Wait for me. Don’t tell him anything yet,” I cautioned. I wasn’t sure how he’d react. I didn’t want Mom to bear the brunt of his temper. I wanted to be there to give him what he deserved.

In my apartment, I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, pulled out a bag from the closet, and shoved some clothes and essentials into it. I retrieved my U.S. passport and Overseas Citizen of India card, which would allow my entry into the country. I had been gone a long time. It would be strange to be back there and see the place with different eyes.

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