Page 147 of Cakes for the Grump
His suit is tailored and lovely even in the dome of Mumbai’s exacting heat.
He lifts his glass to me.
I think I faint.
…I don’t—faint.
That would be alarming.
But it feels as if I almost fainted.
My elbows are used as I push my way and mumble apologies to my people. This apparition must be stopped. It’s improper to taunt a possibility that can’t exist. As if it can be true, a millionaire wanders into an Indian gully.
Huffing, I rush over and face him.
“Rita.”
“Luke?”
I may have given the most verbose speech of my life, but in this second, the English language is inadequate jumbled up symbols painted on a cave. Or perhaps it’s my overburdened throat. There is much to say, and little guidance as to what order I can speak it.
What are you doing here? Did you also suffer in revolving bouts of agony, hope, agony, hope…agony…hope?
What is the purpose of your visit?
To love someone is to let them go, I am told. To love someone is to be tortured by their absence, I was not told. This pain, I thought it would go away. It hasn’t. I’ve resigned myself to surrender to it.Have you, as well?
Did you miss me?
“Rita,” he says again.
“W-what is it?” I ask, solemnly bracing myself.
“Two months, four days, eleven hours, thirteen minutes.”
It takes me a second to understand.
The amount of time we’ve been apart.
FORTY-ONE
The aftermathof his statement is a cacophony of chaos since Luke has been spotted by my best friends, and likely others in our community because his physical being sticks out amongst the group. Thankfully, everyone other than my friends have decided to maintain their respectful distance for now.
Kiren arrives and says, “Took you long enough,” and Noor circles Luke with narrowed eyes and says, “You’re even taller in person.”
My hands link together, twisting around. They are increasingly getting insistent I should place them either around Luke’s shoulders, or his waist, or his arms, or really, any physical part of him.
Luke glances down and frowns, but he has no room to comment because Noor and Kiren come in front of me and block the visual.
“It’s nice to meet you in person,” he says.
“We’re not sure we can say the same.” Kiren leans in closer. “Why did you leave her?”
“I wouldn’t. I hadn’t.”
“She thinks she’s doing what’s best for you,” says Noor. “Our Rita is a sacrificial soul. It’s really annoying.”
Luke glances at me. “We are occasionally of the same opinion.”
