I lick my lips. “I mean, I know you have the inn, and everything here, so things are different now, but then—”
“What are you saying?” he asks, his voice low.
I lift the drill, turning to look at him.
“It’s just…I did tell you what I wanted back then. I did. I told you I wanted you to move with me, but it’s like you didn’t believe me. You told me you thought I didn’t want you there, and I don’t know…I’m trying to understandwhy.”
His expression shutters, his jaw growing firm, and it hurts to see him this way. It’s the way he looked every time he pushed me out. Every time he refused to tell me his thoughts and feelings. Every time he took away his warmth and left me in the cold.
I feel the stitches on a barely healed wound start to unravel, but I clamp down on the sensation before it all falls apart.
“Why would you think that?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
Because there are things I might want now. Things I want to tellhim. But I need to know that he’ll trust what I’m saying. That he’ll trustme. I can’t stop wondering how different our lives might have looked if he’d found me in D.C. If we’d actually talked to each other back then. I can’t stop thinking about an alternate life that could have been mine.
That could maybe still be mine.
But as the silence ticks on, as I wait and wait and wait for him to say something, to sayanything,that hope begins to deflate. The stitches come apart, slowly at first, then all at once, exposing the raw wound at the surface.
I wince, turning away, back to the sign on the table. I try to move on to the next letter, but my vision blurs, and I know I can’t work like this. I confirm the drill is switched off, just like he showed me, then set it down right as a tear escapes, rolling down my cheek.
“Meena?” Nikhil asks, his voice thick with concern, but I brush him off.
Why am I surprised? Why does this hurt so badly? Why did Iletthis hurt?
These past few days, it had almost felt like we’d been taking steps toward each other. I thought Nikhil had been letting down his guard, letting me in, but he still has walls up. He still has fences I’ll never be able to climb, and why should I? Why should I fight and beg for his trust if he doesn’t want to give it? Why should I settle for scraps when I could have a real partner if I get back together with Shake?
A man who confides in me, who sees me as a teammate, who sees me as an equal. Not like Nikhil, who’s still hiding things from me. Who’s still treating me like the lost, broken person I was back then. The person who he thought needed coddling, who needed help, who needed support. Who wasn’t strong enough to be there for him in return.
“I’m fine. I just need—” I try to leave, walking quickly toward the door, but he blocks my path.
“What do you need?” he asks, his voice raised in concern.
I shake my head, and do my best to take a deep breath.
Those things Shake said…He wasn’t wrong. Years ago, I wanted Nikhil more than anything, and that kind of love—that feeling—it was all-consuming. It made me irrational. Impulsive. It made me the kind of person who lost sight of my goals and got distracted. The kind of person who failed the bar and got married on a drunken night in Vegas. At the time, I’d thought staying in that marriage was a risk worth taking, that somehow everything would work out, but it ended in disaster.
This way I feel, if I give in to it, I know it’ll end the same way too.
Nikhil’s hand comes to my chin, tilts it up. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he says. “Please.”
And that’s when I break.
“I can’t be here. Ican’t. I’m going back and what have we even been doing? What has all of this been? I don’t even understand why you want to stay married to me. Why won’t you just sign the papers? Why won’t you let us go?”
He drops his hand, and all hint of emotion slides off his face.
I wait for him to say something, to give a straight answer, to finally break this silence between us. I wait for him totry,but he doesn’t say a word. I wish I was surprised. I wish I was angry. But honestly, I’m justtired. Tired of all the times Nikhil has retreated like this. Tired of the way he never used to tell me what he was thinking. Tired of having to guess what’s on his mind.
“What is it?” I ask. “I don’t understand…What do you want out of all this? What could you possibly—”
“I want you!” His voice booms, louder than I’ve ever heard it.
All the blood rushes from my head. The room tilts, everything going sideways.
“I want you to stay. I want you to be with me. I want to live out everything we promised to each other. Those vows, they meant something to me, Meena. They still mean something to me. What we had…what we have…is real.”
My thoughts swirl, vibrant colors blending and twisting so fast I can’t grab on to a single one. Temptation and hope start to build again, but it all comes to a grinding halt when one word breaks through: “stay.” He’s asking me to stay.
