Page 92 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

And boy, were we over! He hadn’t called or texted after that night.

The last time we’d spoken before the wretched break-up call, he’d said he was confused and worried. What was it that his parents had kept hidden from him? I needed to know if he was alright.

Against my better judgment, I cast my hurt aside and reached out to Mihir, only for him to send my calls to voicemail. After the first few tries, I got his voicemail after a single ring. Seemed like he had blocked my number.

They say the harder you love, the more you hurt. I’d never been one to believe in such truisms. Turned out, some of these trite aphorisms actually held a kernel of truth. How else did my pining make sense? When Ajay had broken up with me, it had been my ego that was shattered, not my heart. I’d never found myself pining for him. Rather, I lamented the damage the relationship had caused to my dignity and self-respect.

With Mihir, my entire being felt bereft. My body, heart, and soul seemed to be grieving his loss. But then, I should’ve known better, shouldn’t I? I had willingly stuck my hand in the fire and enjoyed doing it. Had I really expected that it would not consume me whole and leave me devastated?

“Did you hear back from the university in Houston?” Tara’s question pulled me out of my misery as we sat outside her favorite bakery in Manhattan the day before her flight to Dallas.

I nodded. “They’ve made me an offer.”

“What!” She sat up with a proud smile. “That’s good news, right?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Are you rethinking your decision to move?” she asked solemnly.

“I don’t know. It’s definitely a better job, but it’s maligned with too many memories, too many hopes and dreams.”

She nodded.

“On the other hand, I really enjoyed talking to my potential colleagues when I interviewed. It’s a much bigger and richer university, so the opportunities are better. The teaching load is lighter, which will give me more time for research and writing. Overall, it’s an obvious choice, a no-brainer. Life will be a tad easier too, with you being closer. Houston has a large South Asian diaspora, so I will not miss out on those connections either. Plus, I have already told my Department Head about the offer. It will be a really sticky situation if I back out now.”

“Are you looking for reasons not to move but can’t find any?” she asked, playing with her cupcake wrapper.

“Perhaps.” My freaking heart was still pining for Mihir and being in New York would give me an adequate distance to move on from him. “I’m still negotiating my salary and credit for previous research and teaching. That way, I won’t have to reset the clock on my tenure.”

“Are you still planning to go to India this summer?” she asked, although her tone suggested she had something else on her mind.

“Yes, but if I move to Houston, I’ll have to redo the review protocol with the new university to work with human subjects, so I won’t be able to do my interviews as planned. I still do want to go spend some time with them.”

She nodded, and her eyes blinked in thought. “Sameer talked to Mihir,” she said softly testing the waters.

When I didn’t erupt in anger or annoyance, she continued. “He fed us the same BS that he isn’t interested in a long-term relationship. We don’t buy it either, but Ma said there was some tension between his parents and him.”

I sat upright; she had just confirmed my fears. She regarded me with curious eyes. “You know something about that, don’t you?”

“The week after he visited me last month, he called me from his parents’ home and said he suspected them of hiding something from him.”

“What’s that?”

I shrugged. “We never got around to talking about it. He said he was going to talk to his parents the next morning. When I asked him the next day, he skirted the issue, saying he’d have something concrete soon. That never happened. Do you think this has something to do with that? What do you know?”

“Not much,” Tara said, delicately wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Ma called Aunty like she often does, and it seemed like she had been crying. When Ma prodded a little, Aunty vaguely said she’d had an argument with Mihir. No details, but he has been MIA at every social event since. I tried reaching out a few times, but he doesn’t take my calls. Sameer emailed him a few times, pretending to seek advice on something work-related because that’s all he would talk about. Sameer thinks it’s the only way to keep the lines of communication open. He’s certain Mihir is still hung up on you.”

Mihir adored his parents. What could have caused the rift?

“Do you think I should reach out to Sneha aunty?” I asked, unsure of what I wanted.

Tara’s body rose and fell with a sigh. “You could try.”

“But Mihir was terribly brusque when he asked me to stay away from his parents. Are they doing alright? Have you seen them lately?”

Tara nodded. “Mihir asked Sameer to visit them. Sameer and I drop in occasionally and check on them. Aunty has never given an indication that anything is wrong, but she is not her usual spirited self these days.”

I wanted to break protocol and reach out to them. Hadn’t I declared that my relationship with them stood outside the purview of my association with Mihir? But when was it ever a good idea to contact your ex’s parents after he categorically asked you to leave them alone?

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