‘Yes. I’ll come home.’
The next flight out to Banaras that wasn’t outrageously priced was in three days.
I finished Navya’s sari the morning I was supposed to leave. It was part sari, part gown. The skirt draped in layers of iridescent chiffon: storm blue, muted bronze and antique rose. The corseted blouse was asymmetrical and sharp. It was my best work.
I’d bought most of the raw materials at home last week so I could work on it in the evenings. Theparts I didn’t have … I improvised in the design and hoped she liked it.
For three days, I lived and breathed the sari. I only stopped when Rhea dropped by, forcing me to take breaks to eat, drink water and sleep when I was exhausted.
If I kept busy enough, I wouldn’t fall apart. I wouldn’t call or text Jai. I wouldn’t show up at his door, begging for forgiveness. God knew that was never going to happen. I was sparing him the hurt and myself the humiliation.
After packing my carry-on, I didn’t have the time to give it to Navya.
‘Can you please give this to the receptionist at HoA?’ I asked Rhea, handing her the box I’d packed the sari in. ‘Tell her to give it to Suraina ma’am.’
‘Yes,’ Rhea murmured, her eyes dropping to my suitcase. ‘When are you coming back?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t have a return ticket?’
Return to what? I didn’t have anything or anyone to come back to anymore. I shook my head.
‘Are you … going to come back?’ she asked softly.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, my voice thick. ‘I don’t have a job, Rhea. And I am pretty sure I won’t get one either, especially not in fashion.’
‘Don’t let them take Mumbai away from you, Ananya.’ She shook her head. ‘This is your home.’
‘I’m going to be late.’
‘You have to come back. If you don’t, I’ll drag you here myself.’ She swiped a thumb across my wet cheek before wrapping me in her fierce embrace. ‘God, what am I going to do without you?’
I hugged her back. ‘I’ll miss you too.’
19
The Third Thing
Jai
I pinched the bridge of my nose. This report was a blunder.
‘Ananya, this—’
A sharp pain cut through me, leaving me breathless and constricted.
‘Priya, sir,’ the temp corrected me.
Ananya was gone. But she haunted me at work, in my home and even in my fucking dreams. Her absence clung like smoke in a sealed room, turning everything she touched into a reminder of what I’d lost.
‘All I wanted was a simple, legible summary,’ I snapped. ‘But you’re incapable of producing error-free work.’
‘I … I’m sorry,’ she stuttered.
‘Apologies don’t fix incompetence. This was the second time. You’re done.’
‘But … but …’
