The last thing I expected, then, was for Mihir to show up at my door.

“Mihir!” I stood agape, worried I had finally snapped and was hallucinating. I tried to balance myself against the door. I had texted him to come find me if he needed help but I had not anticipated him appearing unannounced like this. At my parents’ home!

My stomach dropped at his sight. This was not the man I remembered. He was thinner and leaner, his eyes missing their usual spark. Though his hair and beard were still flawlessly groomed, the man standing before me appeared a stranger.

“Hi,” he said. When my mind steadied, I saw his bag and backpack.

“Can I come in?” he asked when I kept staring at him.

“Who is it, Sona?” Aai came to the door. When she saw the backpack in his hand, she asked in polite Hindi, “What are you selling? How did you get past the security guard? Salespeople aren’t allowed inside the building.”

“No, Aai,” I said, holding her hand as she turned to call the building security. “He’s a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes, from America.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, then turned to me. “Why is he still outside the door?”

“Come in, beta,” she addressed him.

I signaled Mihir to step inside, and he placed his bags near the wall by the door. Aai rushed inside the house.

“I need your help,” he said. “Your text. I thought?—”

“Remove your shoes.” I pointed to the shoe mat.

“Oh yes, sorry,” he said and slipped out of his sneakers.

I had never known Mihir to ask for help. He prided himself on self-sufficiency. He was the one people came to for help. He was a proud giver, after all. How much had that simple sentence cost him?

“Come in,” I said, leading him to the formal living room.

While Lata came out with water for him, Aai returned, having fixed her clothes.

“Aai, this is Mihir. Mihir, my mother, Medha Thomas.”

I was ambivalent about how to react to his presence. I found myself fighting off both anger and sympathy. In my eyes, he deserved neither right now.

With a short deferential bow, he said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thomas.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Aai smiled. “What will you have, beta? Tea or something cold?”

“He doesn’t drink tea,” I announced before I could check myself.

“Oh!” Aai looked back and forth between us while Mihir settled back on the sofa.

“I’m alright,” he said courteously. “Water is good.”

“Aai, can we have a few minutes alone, please?” I asked before their conversation went any further.

Aai looked at me, blinking her eyes, before breaking into a smile. “Yes, of course.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked when we were alone. “I thought you’d call, not come over. Who gave you my address? Tara?”

“No, Mom did.”

“Did you just arrive?” I asked, spotting fatigue on him.