Page 48 of The Ex Factor

“A talk about work coffee, then,” he said hurriedly before I stepped over the threshold to reenter the living room.

I turned to him and nodded. “Sure. Text me what day works for you.”

As I turned back to leave, he said, “I don’t have your number.”

I looked at him and smirked. “I’m sure a well-connected man like you can find a way to reach me when you need it.”

With that, I went back in. The guys had already had their hands on the sandwiches, complimenting me for the great choice of grub. I got my ham and provolone and settled down by Sujit. I needed to feel his warmth after Manoj’s dastardly attempts at wooing me. Sujit was all smiles, but there was something different about his demeanor. I hoped he didn’t take my flirting with Manoj to mean anything other than getting under the man’s skin. I positioned myself as close to Sujit as was appropriate for the setting, breathing in his masculine scent and relaxing in it. It was all I needed after a perfect night of fun and games.

All kinds of games, I thought as I threw a quick glance at Manoj.

SUJIT

It had been the end of our third semester in grad school.

With bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep, we raced against time to finish up our final projects. It’d been on one of those nights that, in an adrenaline-induced sleepless daze, I’d foolishly told Manoj, who was my roommate and a close friend then, that I had a crush on Tejal. She’d been the smartest student in our class but bold and forthcoming, whereas I’d been a shy, nerdy guy with glasses.

Manoj’s hands flying over his keyboard had halted promptly, and I’d torn my attention away from my screen to look at him. His shifty gaze had darted away, and he’d resumed his work.

“What did I say?” I’d asked.

“Nothing,” he’d said, shaking his head, then stopped typing again.

When I’d turned to him, he’d said, “Tejal and I have sort of been hanging out. Nothing serious, just fooling around. But I’ll end it if you are really interested in her.”

In that instant, I’d felt like a chump, uninitiated, ashamed, embarrassed.

“Of course not,” I’d blurted. “It’s a crush, that’s all…you didn’t tell me you were seeing her. I’ve never even seen the two of you together.”

“It isn’t serious,” he’d said with a shrug, eyes back on this computer screen, fingers flying again over the keyboard.

I’d done what my parents had raised me to do. I’d backed off and never spoken about it again. Not even after they got married. It was only after the divorce, when Tejal had asked me for a coffee date that she revealed she’d always known about my feelings and hoped we could reconnect. By that time, I’d moved on. And Tejal’s beauty looked less appealing after she’d confessed that she’d chosen Manoj over me because she’d seen more potential, more likelihood of success in him. I had thanked her for her candor, but in the light of it, I wasn’t sure if she wanted me back because I’d succeeded in life by her definition. Did she really care for me, or had she only seen the wealth I’d created?

When I’d repaid her candor with mine, she’d pulled back in her seat. “I don’t need your money, Sujit,” she’d said, a tear forming in her eye. “I’m well-placed. I was just made VP of software operations at my company. I was only hoping for love and loyalty, neither of which your friend has given me.”

“Did he cheat on you?” I’d cried, appalled. Although I hadn’t had the front-row view of their divorce as Adil did, I’d known enough, but this was the first time I’d heard about it.

“It doesn’t matter,” she’d said, sniffing back her humiliation. “I’m ambitious, and he took advantage of my unavailability, as he claimed at our divorce hearing. I wonder if he would have seen it as such if he was the busy one and I’d made good use of his unavailability.”

I’d taken her hand in mind. “I’m sorry, Tejal. I truly am. I really liked you, but we never got a chance to turn it into something more.”

She’d nodded. “You know what’s funny? You’re rejecting me, yet I trust you more than I ever trusted him. I have no fear of shame or embarrassment with you because I know, despite today, I’ll never lose your respect.”

And she hadn’t, but Manoj had. Tejal had been the sixth member of our game night club, and after their divorce, she’d been dignified enough to let Manoj have his circle of friends. Manoj, on the other hand, continued his braggart and remorseless ways. That was when we instituted the no-outsiders policy. No friends, no partners, no spouses.

I’d gradually distanced myself from Manoj after that evening in grad school, but he had hung on to his friendship with Adil and the others. What changed my opinion of Manoj completely was Adil’s revelation that Manoj and Tejal had never been together before that evening. He’d asked her out only after I told him about my crush.

“It doesn’t matter if he was trying to hurt me,” I’d said to Adil, sitting at his cousin’s exclusive club sipping scotch while Adil sipped cola. “There had to be something there. They got married.”

“And divorced,” Adil had said, turning his soft eyes on me. “Just…be careful around him.”

“Why are you still friends if you don’t trust him?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not the one he has tried to sabotage. I’m not the one he’s jealous of. It’s always been you.”

When I’d looked at him with a frown, Adil had responded with a frown of his own and said, “How have you survived for so long? He’s always trying to be better, more successful than you.”

“Why? There’s nothing remotely special about me!”

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