Page 101 of The Ex Factor

“Relax. I just want to see my family. I miss them. And Mom has planned a party for Nitara and she really wishes for me to attend,” I offered instead.

“Nitara?”

“My niece.”

“Ah.”

“I’m sorry to abandon you like this. I know you’ll be lost without me.”

He laughed his throaty laugh. “That I will be, for sure, but I’m glad you are going back. It’s your life, your city, your people. Reclaim it all.”

“Whoa!” I uttered. It was weird to hear the fire in his words. Like he was angry and ready to take on the world. “Is everything alright?” I asked tenuously.

“Everything is good. It’s about to get even better,” he answered cryptically. “You enjoy your time there. Have a safe trip, and let’s catch up when you’re back.”

“Thank you.” I stayed on the line since neither of us was ready to hang up. “You know what’s reassuring?” I said softly. “Mom said she heard Sameer and Tara are on their honeymoon, so there’ll be little chance of running into them.”

Quietly, I mused about the word honeymoon, the act of unabashed and blatant fucking cloaked in the sweet mask of a linguistic masterstroke.

“That’s good,” he said. “And let’s talk when you are back.”

“Talk? That’s a rather specific word. Is it important?”

Another quick pause that I didn’t know how to decipher. “Yes, but it can wait until you’re back.”

“Are you sure? I can make time if you want to meet up before I leave.”

“Yes, sweet girl. It can wait. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Where were you supposed to go?” I teased, and he broke into a laugh.

“Go on now. Don’t you need to pack for your trip?”

“Not much. Mom will probably insist on getting me new clothes for the party anyway. I’ll send you a picture,” I blurted.

“I’d love that,” his soft voice reassured me.

“See you, Sujit. Be a good boy.”

“Not this time, sweet girl.”

I frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re back. You go enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

“Bye, Sujit.”

“See you soon.”

Two days later,I arrived in Dallas and learned that I was spot on about the new clothes. Mom had set up everything for Jia and me to go shopping for the party.

Jia was relieved to be with someone who wasn’t Aakash, Mom, or the household help. She drank decaf coffee and talked my ear off while I smiled and nodded, sitting at a local café.

At the boutique, she complained about her bulging, shapeless belly, and I promptly delivered a lecture about the need for women to break the shackles of social pressure to return to their pre-pregnancy bodies in six to nine weeks after delivery.

“You’re barely human in six to nine weeks,” I said to her. “That’s why I really admired Aishwarya Rai when she had her child. I was young and totally buying into celeb bodies being back to flat and fit within weeks of their deliveries. Then along comes Aishwarya, the former Miss World, and says, f-you all. I will take the time I need,and I won’t let you shame me for it. And she didn’t hide inside her house either. She flaunted herself at the Cannes the same way she had carried her slender self on that red carpet before the baby. So take your time, Jia. Be happy. Don’t force yourself to do anything you don’t want to. Rest up and become stronger.”

Jia smiled at me as she held up a gown one size larger than she wanted. “I’m so glad Nitara will have you as a role model growing up. I want her to be like you, strong and fierce.”

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