Page 13 of The Ex Factor

That evening, I’d been dressed in a specially commissioned designer gown from India, with exclusive jewelry that had existed only on fashion show ramps. A special kind of Kundan setting that had yet to make its way into mass production. I had ordered and reordered sherwani sets for Sameer until I’d found the one I liked, one that matched my gown. I had wanted everything to be perfect.

It had been the most beautiful night. Almost every influential member of the South Asian community was present at the party. Every important member of the city was there, including the mayor. I was swimming in love and adoration from my family and friends. It had promised to be one of the happiest nights of my life.

As the choreographed dance sequence with my family came to an end, I stood on the stage with Sameer. The crowd drowned us in claps and cheers. The flashes from cameras blinded me, but I found comfort in the presence of the man standing beside me.

Dad quietened the cheers with a mic in his hands, then announced to the world his plans to make Sameer a partner in his company. With bated breath, I watched all this unfold, as I had meticulously planned. I waited for Dad’s cue.

The moment Dad announced, “All I want in return is that you keep our Aarti very happy,” the spotlight had shifted from him to Sameer and me. Promptly dropping down to my knee, I’d said with a barely steady breath, “My dearest Sameer, will you marry me?”

Petals of roses rained down on us. Candid photos populated every camera present there. My grin spread from ear to ear as I gripped Sameer’s ice-cold hand and stepped down from the stage with him like a royal couple. We were engaged to be married amid a heavily public display of love and wealth.

My happiness lasted a week. Turned out he’d been planning to break up with me the next day. He had realized he would always be in love with Tara, but he didn’t want to ruin the evening for me. If he had, it would have left me broken-hearted and humiliated at the party.

He never got a chance to tell me any of this, because the night of our engagement, he left for India. It was much later that I learned the whole story. Sameer had been away to take care of a clandestine family affair. He hadn’t trusted me with any of this. He had kept his family’s secrets guarded and out of my reach.

A fool in love that I’d been, I had missed him while he was gone and decided to drop by unannounced the day after his return. I’d still not figured out if it was a good decision or a bad one. Would it have caused me less heartache if I’d allowed Sameer to come clean like he had planned?

That evening, when I arrived at his condo, I found him sharing a candlelight dinner with Tara. I was so furious I blasted them with the choicest vocabulary I could muster in my rage. In a moment so vulnerable that I’d repent it for days to come, I hadallowed them both to witness my tears. In all the long years he’d known me, Sameer had never seen me cry. None of my friends had. But that evening, I let my weakness show. I let myself grieve.

My anger had kept climbing as Tara and Sameer explained the intensity of their affection for each other. I had wanted to hate Tara, to be angry at Sameer, but all I had found myself doing was getting angrier at myself. Angry that I had been played for a fool, angry that I hadn’t seen it coming. Angry that both Sameer and his father had made me a pawn in their acrimonious relationship. I was angry that Tara wasn’t the unkind, unrepentant, evil bitch I could hate with impunity. But all this anger was my burden to carry, my cross to bear. When I’d left his home that evening, I’d determined to never let my weaknesses sneak out again.

The breakup wasn’t an ordinary one. That fucked up party had been one of the biggest events that season. People had left with memorabilia and favors commemorating the evening. The names Sameer and Aarti were etched on people’s minds, flowing effortlessly off their tongues. How did one deal with a breakup of that magnitude?

The gossip and the rumors erupted immediately and mushroomed fast. Even though it was Sameer who had an affair, people alleged that he had broken it off because I was in love with my younger brother’s best friend. Aakash’s best friend had always been like a brother to me, but it didn’t matter to the gossip machine. There was also the rumor that Sameer had moved on because he’d realized I was an evil, manipulative shrew. He’d be better off without me, the machine proclaimed. The more sympathetic ones claimed we’d caught the evil eye because we were perfect together. Too perfect for it to be realized.

I’d always hated that word,perfect. That’s how everyone described me, everyone who hadn’t known me before Ibecameperfect. It was only Mary Beth, my closest friend since grade school, who saw the perfect me when I was gloriously imperfect. The rest of the world saw my tall body, my curves, slim waist, full lips, big eyes, and slender fingers and called me perfect. I hated it because once I was labeled as perfect, I found myself striving harder to be so. I was a successful businesswoman, yet I couldn’t let the woman part of me come out and play.

The men, my father, and brother, could harness the so-called masculine values of assertiveness and aggression with little backlash. I had to keep myself aloof enough to be taken seriously, yet I couldn’t display my anger or displeasure without being called hormonal or hysterical. That was the reason Sujit surprised me. He was not only kind to me when I was in tears but didn’t let my vulnerable condition undermine my capability as a professional. He was the kind of friend I really needed right now. Maybe we could be…friends.

My thoughts drifted to Sujit. It was a cruel thing to happen to a beautiful human being who believed in the goodness of people. I was stronger and more practical. I knew better than to believe in such myths as people’s goodness. And yet, our situations were quite similar.

Sujit had also had a tough breakup, albeit much less public than mine. But confronting a faceless crowd and drowning out the phantom of public opinion was easier than facing loved ones who are aware of your broken heart, day after day. I knew this firsthand. I wondered how Sujit handled being left sad and distraught before his family. He must have felt rather comfortable and confident in the relationship to involve his parents at a surprise party for Tara. As comfortable and confident as I had felt in my relationship, I thought, and broke into a hysterical laughter.

SUJIT

Aslew of discordant thoughts swirled around in my head as I walked toward my car. The morning had already attempted to upset my equilibrium, and now I was walking away from Sameer’s ex-fiancée. It felt like my world had tilted on its axis.

I’m in the wrong place. That was the first thought I had when I saw Aarti that evening. Since Tara’s departure from my life, I’d had that feeling an overwhelming number of times. The time I was invited to the New York Philharmonic, and when my friends dragged me to a live performance by Tara’s favorite Bollywood singer. The time I got the Innovator of the Year Award and ended up hostage in a conversation with an influential but incredibly boring guest. If Tara were with me, she would’ve efficiently deflected him or found an excuse to pull me away.

Tara had been at my office the day I’d received the letter, an honor bestowed upon me by a committee of my peers and industry experts. She had gifted me a tie that week, a tie my family forbade me to wear to the event. I think it eventually found its way to a thrift store somewhere, thanks to Cathy.

I had felt out-of-place multiple times over the last months. Yet, as I walked away from the evening with Aarti, I didn’twrangle with the feeling anymore. It felt as if I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Talking to Aarti had been refreshing. Purifying, even. The rot eating at us to our core had been exposed and purged. Sharing our stories, honest and heartfelt, seemed to have eased the pain. I didn’t need to hide my hurt and humiliation from her, and I was glad that she didn’t either. The giggles, the tears, the laughter, the warmth, it all came gushing—unfeigned and unfettered.

An acute feeling tugged at my heart. Was Aarti alright? Had it been cruel to leave her alone when she was fighting off loneliness and hurt? Would it be a good idea to go back and comfort her?

No. My mind declared, resolute in its decision. I didn’t know her well enough to go knocking on her door at this hour of the night.

As I stepped into the biting cold, Imran came around to hold the door open for me.

“Are you okay, Boss?” he asked as he drove me back home.

“Yes.”

My mind remained preoccupied with Aarti’s thoughts. There was something compelling, somethingverypowerful about her that seemed to have sparked a longing in me. I couldn’t say for sure what it was. All I knew was I wanted to see her again.

“Same time tomorrow?” I heard Imran again.

---