Page 108 of Everything She Wanted

I leave Nick’s place before we make a decision we can’t walk away from, but my body has never felt so heavy, my heart so lost.

I get home and crawl into bed even though it’s only 8 p.m. When Rachel comes in to check on me, I tell her I’m not feeling well. I’m not ready to let this go, to let him go, but I have no choice now. I have to.

He has reasons I know nothing about why he can’t commit to us, and it’s not something I can work through for him. Only he can do that.

I fall into a fitful sleep, waking up in a cold sweat, wondering how my life went from wanting a fresh start to this.

At 5 a.m., I head to the office. The SkyTrain is mostly empty, and when I arrive only the security guard is there. I walk through the dark and empty halls and stop outside Nick’s office. For the first time, I see everything. I see him.

I think of the time he told me he was taking care of his mom and paying for his sister’s university education because his dad left them with nothing. I think of how he’s been encouraging me to speak up more and ask for what I want, and how he even went out of his way to get me on a speaker’s panel, pulling strings when I had no experience and it would be a risk for his contact to take me on. I think about how he never accepts accolades and instead sends them in my direction, no matter how high that person is on the corporate ladder.

I think of how he dropped his car keys in my hand without even a second thought, and of the time he was willing to wander the night to find another hotel to make me more comfortable. I think of the way he looked at me when he first met me, and he asked me what lit me up. And then how he really listened when I answered. I think of all those months I spent searching for him, doing a double take every time I saw blue eyes that weren’t his, and once even reaching up and touching the shoulder of a man with his hair and build.

And for reasons I don’t know, he doesn’t think he deserves goodness even though he’s so good inside. A bright light guiding my heart in infinite darkness.

I am a fool, yes, but I want to be his fool, even if it costs me everything.

The week goes by, and Nick and I still barely see each other, but instead of awkwardness and anger when we do, there’s this softness between us—we’ve laid down our swords and bared our hearts.

I silently communicate with him as we pass each other in the halls and when I sit across from him in meetings.

I see you, all of you.

He silently communicates back.

I want you, all of you. Not just your body, your heart and soul too. But I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.

And that’s how we speak now.

Words whispered in our hearts and communicated with our eyes and through gentle touches. I brush his arm, he caresses my fingers, we share a glance. All above board, but more intimate than ever.

I don’t know how to figure it all out with Nick or Eshaan, but I surrender to a universe I’m starting to think has a plan for me after all.

38. The Goddess

Eshaan opens the door, looking wrecked. His shoulders are slumped, his hair is in disarray, and his clothes are rumpled like he hasn’t changed them in some time.

“Shaan, is everything okay?” I step closer to him and put a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Not really.” He stands there looking off into the distance and not saying anything more. I don’t want to pry, so I stand there patiently outside his parents’ house.

“Come inside and have some cha,” Shaan’s mom says in the background.

I follow Shaan inside and see his mom sitting at their kitchen table with cha at the ready. He sits down but looks dazed, like I’ve never seen him. My heart starts beating furiously as Auntie Ji pours me a steaming glass of cha in a bone china cup—the ones my family also had but never used and instead displayed in the dining room hutch.

“Sugar?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She adds a spoonful and gives it a stir before handing me the cup.

I graciously accept it, used to the comfort of cha any time of day to soothe my worries at home with my family, and now with his.

She takes a sip of hers with a weary look. Her beautiful short black hair rests softly at her shoulders. She’s wearing a simple pink suit with an intricate rose pattern, paired with golden bangles on each arm and gold hoop earrings. She looks both traditional and modern and pulls off the no-makeup look with such grace and beauty. Normally, she looks young for her age, but this evening she looks so much older.

We drink quietly. The only sound is that of the ticking clock in the living room.

Shaan finally speaks. “My Dadi Ji isn’t well.”