Page 90 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“Do you want me to step out?” Amar asked in his gentle, calm manner.

She responded with a tired shake of her head. “I’m grateful you’re here, Amar.” He nodded and returned a small smile.

She looked at me. “Let’s cut to the chase, Sameer. I called your mother because I’m dying, and I want Riya to grow up with you all. I don’t want her living like an orphan in India or with my parents, who haven’t seen her yet. Whatever our history, I know I can trust you to do right by her. I know you will love her the way she deserves to be loved. You’re not a cruel man, or you wouldn’t be here.”

I hung my head.

“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but here we are. Riya has her passport, and she’ll give you whatever else is needed. I’ve entrusted her with all the important documents and legal papers. We got the visa appointment, but I’ve no idea how long I have. I can sign over the parental rights too if you want.”

“No,” I said with an emphatic shake of the head, “I want her to be with you…”

“As long as I’m here. I appreciate it.” She nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say that. It wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“Even so, I willingly entered into a relationship I knew would wreck lives.”

I looked at her across the span of the long room. “Do you wish to see him?”

She was too frail to sigh, but made a sound that was close to it. “No. It was never meant to be. I don’t want to be conflicted in my last days.”

“I’m sorry, Sangita. I shouldn’t have left you and Riya alone to fend for yourselves.”

“You didn’t. You’ve been generous. Without the financial support you ensured, we wouldn’t be where we are. Riya is thriving at the elite school. She’s smart, like you.” She managed a brief smile. “She’s a natural genius and has a very bright future. You need to make sure she fulfills her potential.”

“I’ll do everything to make things right,” I said as a lone tear slipped out without warning. I sniffed and swiped it away quickly.

“I see you’re still a kind man, Sameer. I’m very proud of who you’ve become, if I may say that.”

I gave a slight nod. “You’ve been brave. I can’t imagine being in your shoes, being this charitable toward me after how I treated you. Thank you for trusting me with her.”

An impatient knock interrupted us, and Riya stuck her head in. “Can I come in now?”

“Actually, I’d like to speak with you outside, if you don’t mind,” I said, looking at Riya, then at Sangita.

Something transpired between them with an exchanged look. Sangita nodded, and Riya slumped her shoulders. I stepped out of the room with her and walked over to a bench near the big windows at the end of the hallway.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

She nodded, her eyes on her hands.

“What has your mom told you about me?”

Anger flashed across her face, but she took a deep breath. “I hate you, Sameer,” she said calmly.

“I know, and you have every right to.”

“But Mumma trusts you. She says you’re the only one I can trust when she’s gone.” She held her head high. “But I’m not ready for her to die.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t understand,” she said. “Have you lost a parent? How can you understand? I lost my father, and now I’m losing Mumma.”

“You’ll have your father back,” I reassured her. “And a brother.”

“Too late,” she declared with a firm look. “I can never love anyone else like I love Mumma.”

“No one can take her place in your life. But we can have a different relationship, a different love? Friendship, perhaps.”

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