Page 74 of Everything She Wanted

I nod. That makes sense. My dad worked all the time, but my mom was always home taking care of us. We ate homemade lunches and dinners of fresh rotis, dahl, and sabji every day. She took us to Girl Guides, Bollywood dance classes, and the library every week—insisting we only read school-related books. I’m glad she was around, especially since my dad mostly wasn’t.

“Anj, I’m so happy for you.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll just be friends. I’m just going with the flow.”

I don’t know how she does that. I can’t flow with anything, and trying to control every outcome isn’t working for me either.

“What’s his name?”

“Inderjit, but he just goes by Inder.”

“I need to see a picture.”

She smiles and pulls out her phone and then proudly hands it to me.

“Holy shit. He looks like Hrithik Roshan.”

She swoons. “I know, right. Total hottie.”

“You need to lock that down.”

She gives me a wink. “I like you, Nish, a lot. I’m glad Eshaan found such a babe like you—not to mention you’re one of the kindest and most loyal girls I know.”

I swallow back the lump in my throat.

“We should get an Uber,” she says, and we pull out our phones to order our cars. “You’re staying at Eshaan’s, right?”

“Yeah. It was so good to see you, Anj.” I wrap her in a hug.

“You too, Nish. Can’t wait for your engagement.”

“You should bring Inder.”

She bites her lip. “We’ll see. There’s my Uber. Is yours nearby?”

“Just two minutes away.”

“I’ll wait with you.” And she does. Suddenly I don’t feel so alone with the weight of everything. Maybe not everyone gets my ambitions and goals, but she does, and that’s something.

23. Cha Time

In Eshaan’s kitchen the next morning, I make my cup of cha like a ritual, crushing the cardamom, cloves, and ginger with a mortar and pestle. I take a stainless-steel pot from the cupboard, fill it with water, and then set it on the stove. I add the spices and wait for the water to boil. I try not to think about Nick and last night, but he’s always right there and I can’t help replaying it all. It’s like he knows exactly what to say, exactly how to touch me, exactly what I want most.

I add the tea bags and let everything simmer. The sweet, earthy aroma fills the air and reminds me of the comfort of home, and my heart softens. Back in Toronto, I craved freedom, and now that I have it, I love the independence—but I wonder if that’s all Nick is. A chance to escape the pressure and expectations. Maybe I should just let myself. Guys do it all the time, but I already know I can’t separate the physical from the feelings. I’m already too hung up on him. There’s a good chance I’m just entertaining these thoughts after seeing the picture of Sonia, and the fact that Eshaan didn’t come home until nearly 3 a.m.

I run my fingers along the gleaming granite countertop, and then walk over to the stainless-steel fridge to get the milk. I add some to the simmering water and raise the heat to high. As soon as it rises, I take it off the heat, remove the tea bags, and strain it into two cups. I hold mine in my hands and lean against the counter just as Eshaan comes in, wearing a grey tee and basketball shorts.

“Hey babe.”

He gives me a peck on the cheek, and I resist the urge to turn my face away.

“I made cha.” I point to the cup sitting on the counter in front of me.

“You’re the best.” He gives me his most charming smile, but it does nothing for me.

He stands across from me and takes a sip.

“How was last night?” I ask casually.