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Nim offers escape.I’ve got a runway in Mumbai tomorrow. Come get some time away.
I send them heart emojis and crying emojis.
I just need to process for a bit. I’ll call you both later. Promise.
Going to the bathroom, I slather moisturizer over my face. My eyes look tired, but I slept for so many hours on the plane, so I don’t feel like I can sleep again. Plus, it’s not even dark out, and jet lag is going to punch me later, anyway.
Suddenly, I knock the moisturizer off the counter because my hand fumbles. Huan. An image of him pierces my mental fog. Where is… Huan?
Since my mother pulled me inside, I’ve not gone back for him or found out what he’s doing. A lot happened in a short time, and prior to this, a lot was happening between us… and I need to find him… I need?—
Him.
There is so much to talk about, and I need—just need to find him! I know he wouldn’t have intruded on a family conversation, but I bet he’s wondering where I am, too.
I look at my phone.
No text from him.
Not caring, I ring him instead.
No answer, which is odd. Huan is always near his phone and usually a person who picks up on the first ring. Okay. Why didn’t he pick up? Has he already left?
No—can’t—won't think about that. If I do, heart-sickness threatens to drown me. Pushing everything else away, I concentrate on a new plan. Find Huan.Let’s do this now and think about the rest later.
After searching the main floor, I don’t find Huan, but I run into Mohinder Uncle. Judging by his warm greeting, he hasn’t spoken to my mother. In fact, he looks like he went out to get food and is now coming back with leftovers.
“If you are feeling better,” he says, “we can go over some press ideas for the movie?”
He definitely hasn’t seen my mother.
Or, she still doesn’t believe I’m quitting and hasn’t told Mohinder Uncle yet.
Either way, I can’t think about that right now.
“Not today, Uncle.” I use my calmest, most casual voice. “But have you seen Huan? He was the protection agent assigned to me in London. I… have something of his to give back.”
“He left.” He moves his food to the other hand. “You won’t be seeing him, unfortunately.”
My stomach goes bloated, like I’ve rapidly inhaled air and forgot how to push it back out. Huan left? He did it? He actually quit?
“Tell me how much it costs to replace what you have”—he pulls out his phone—“and I will add it to his paycheck.”
“No.”
Mohinder Uncle’s eyebrows bush together. It’s because of my aggressive tone. His senses are triggered. He knows something is going on here.I quickly ease the muscles in my face.See, the thing about Pollywood Komal is that I don’t actually want to hate her. What I hate is being forced to be her all the time. Instead, if I was given the freedom to become her when I think it’s appropriate, I could do it without itching in my own skin. Like right now, I can do it. I can use her for my benefit.
“Mohinder Uncle,” I say. “I want to be known as generous. It’s what you and my mother have been teaching me since I was little. No matter who the person is, whether it is someone powerful or not, you want to leave behind a lasting positive experience.”
“You’re not wrong…”
“Where is Huan?” I ask again.
“Well,” he says. “I presume he went home.”
I keep smiling. “And where is that?”
“I’m not sure.”
