Page 47 of Eva Reddy’s Trip of a Lifetime

The Season Finale

I arrive at Mahabodhi Temple an hour early. Mahabodhi means the great awakening. But for me, the opposite is true. I feel like I’m sleepwalking. I still haven’t worked out what I want to say to Jonathan. Or Utkarsh. Or what I want out of either of our meetings.

Surely if Buddha found enlightenment here, I can work out what to do about my marriage and my husband? And how I feel about the man I’m not married to and can’t get out of my head. But Buddha had seven weeks at his disposal. I’m down to less than sixty minutes.

Jonathan or Utkarsh. These men have betrayed me in the worst possible ways, but I also have feelings for both of them. We connect differently, but we connect all the same. It’s history versus potential. Warmth versus fire. The known versus the unknown.

How do I make a choice like that?

It seems my mother was right. This really is like a Bachelorette finale.

And I think I just wrote the opening internal monologue.

The only difference is I’m not applying make-up with a trowel or almost wearing an evening dress with way too many cut-outs.

But even with my cheesecloth wardrobe and insect-repellent foundation, I am the star of the show.

I pull back my shoulders and lift my chin as the opening teaser rumbles through my head.

‘Tonight, on The Golden Bachelorette … Eva is facing a crossroads. How far will she go to mend her broken heart? Will she return to the comfort of the past and forge a new life with her wayward but very handsome husband Jonathan or will she chase the promise of an exciting future and a world of adventures with the seductive and mysterious Utkarsh? This once average middle-aged woman has found her inner power. She’s taken control of her life.

But can she also find love? Now, in an inspirational finale—her shocking choice. ’

If only I knew what that shocking choice was going to be.

I join the hundreds of pilgrims strolling clockwise along the pathway that forms a perimeter around the enormous stone temple.

There is colour everywhere. Flowers. Flags.

Banners. It looks like there’s a carnival going on.

There’s even an area set aside for tents.

But it is also very, very peaceful. Phones and any other noisy electronics are confiscated at the gate.

And there are signs at regular intervals urging quiet.

The only sounds are birdsong and the murmur of prayers.

It is the perfect place to make the most important decision of my last nearly thirty years. And to figure out if the answer I came up with as a young woman still works for me in middle age and beyond.

After a half-dozen or so laps, I walk down to the Bodhi Tree and take my position. I still don’t know what I’m going to do.

I see Jonathan before he sees me. In his chinos and collared golf shirt, he cuts an awkward figure, weaving his way through all the enrobed monks.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so thoroughly out of place before.

He isn’t rocking his usual arrogant swagger.

He also seems much smaller than I remember. Or maybe I’m standing taller.

He looks up and sees me and his expression changes. It seems impossible, but it looks like admiration.

‘Eva.’ He takes the last few strides toward me. He goes to lean in for a kiss but thinks better of it and pulls back. ‘You look wonderful.’

I cannot say the same for him. He looks worse than terrible, as though he hasn’t slept for days on end.

His hair is mussed up and he’s lost definition in his arms. Emily wasn’t exaggerating, he really has stopped going to the gym.

Given how body obsessed he’s been for the last few years, I guess I should be flattered.

I stay silent. I have no intention of making this easy for him, whatever the outcome.

He shuffles his feet uncertainly on the concrete, scraping at the loose sand. After a few awkward seconds, he begins to speak. I’ve never known his voice to be so unsteady.

‘Eva. I am so sorry. I am such a fool. I don’t know what got into me.

I lost my way. We’d started to drift apart.

We didn’t talk any more or do anything together.

You stopped caring how you looked. We should have got a double gym membership.

You have to admit, you did let yourself go.

I forgot that you are an amazing person.

And I thought you didn’t care about me either. ’

It’s like Jonathan has a checklist of things he needs to say or thinks I want to hear and he’s rattling them all off, ignoring the occasional non sequiturs. It becomes so much white noise until eventually, he reaches the main event.

‘I was so busy at work. And Mia was just … there. She was young. And she reminded me of you. Or she reminded me of you twenty years ago. She looked at me the way you used to. And I let her interest turn my head. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you, but I promise I will somehow.’

He’s about to continue but I put a finger to my lips.

It’s my turn to talk. All those years of amateur script writing are about to come into their own.

I have been waiting for a moment to unleash my niche talent since I was twelve years old and the time has come.

And I know what I need to say. I push my shoulders back and wind myself up for my big finale soliloquy.

‘Jonathan, our problems go far deeper than your affair. I’d say it was the affair that had to happen.

But it didn’t. It really didn’t. We’re not a team anymore.

We haven’t been for a long time. I wonder if we ever really were a team.

Because you were always the captain—I was just the deckhand in our relationship.

I’ve loved you for well over half my lifetime.

And I have loved you faithfully. I have always put you and your needs ahead of my own. That was my decision.

‘But it was your decision to let me do that. You never gave me the chance to be anything other than your wife and then you snatched even that from me. I can never forgive you for that. I gave you all the potential of my life … all my hopes and dreams. All you had to do was love me well and I would have been content with the trade. But you used me up and when I had nothing left, you cast me aside. Now it’s my turn, Jonathan. It’s over.’

If there is ever an event showcasing stand-up improv soliloquies, I believe I would be a superstar.

Jonathan stares at me, his perfect mouth and his perfect jaw collapsing in disbelief. I suspect this is the first time anyone has resisted his charm. He really didn’t believe I would ever walk away.

‘Please, Eva. I know we can get back to where we were. Give me the chance to prove it to you.’

‘I’m sorry, Jonathan. I don’t want to get back to where we were. Not where we were when I was fourteen. Not where we were when we got married. And certainly not where we were two weeks ago. You can go now.’ I channel my mother and hit him with a classic Debbie Reddy sniff.

I watch as he walks away from me, his shoulders slumped. In my head, I play the soundtrack that would certainly accompany this moment if this really was a reality TV show. A monk gives him a sympathetic dip of the head. It’s the same look that the street mime gave me a fortnight ago.

I lean against the wooden wall that keeps the Bodhi Tree separate from the mortals surrounding it.

One major life decision out of the way. Now to deal with Utkarsh.

I walk back to the entrance, retrieve my phone and arrange to meet him at the little temple that I’d discovered with my mother yesterday.

I’m already stretching out in the shade when Utkarsh jogs up the pathway. He must have run the whole way because he’s still huffing and puffing as he starts to speak.

‘I’m sorry, Eva. I know you told me we’d talk in Sydney, but I knew your husband was here, trying to convince you to go back to Australia with him and I couldn’t take the chance.

I figured if I was close by, I’d get the right of reply.

Please don’t tell me you’re back with him.

I really believe there is something between us.

Something special. I just want you to give us a chance. ’

He has his hands on his knees and is still panting as he finishes his speech. He looks up at me with those impossibly beguiling eyes.

‘Utkarsh, I asked you to give me space and time. You haven’t done that. You also lied to me. You pretended to be my friend. You betrayed my trust. Why would I give you a second chance?’

I pause dramatically. I am my mother’s daughter, after all.

‘You’re just lucky you’re good in bed.’

MIDDLE-AGE SPREAD (YOUR WINGS)

Hello, my Wizened & Wild friends,

Judging from all the messages and posts I’ve received, you’re all desperate to know what happened after I left Bodh Gaya. I’ll get to that.

But first some big news.

This is going to be my last post for a while. Unbelievably, I have been contacted by a publisher to turn this blog into a book and I need to focus all my attention on that. Teenage Eva would be so proud of me.

It’s going to be a lightly fictionalised account of my Indian adventure.

Apparently, stories featuring middle-aged female protagonists don’t sell, so I’m going to have to shave a few years off my age.

It’s like revising my resume all over again.

I do hope they don’t market the book as a memoir.

The amount of airbrushing required to make my author photograph match my new age would render me wholly unrecognisable.

And I’d be laughed off stage if ever I had to make a promotional appearance.

There have also been some tentative overtures from an independent film company.

They want to cast Dev Patel as Utkarsh. Dev’s in his early thirties, so unless I want to go full cougar, I’m looking at reinventing myself as a 40 or even a 35-year-old.

That will jeopardise Emily’s role as my daughter.

She won’t like that. But I think she’d make a great Katie.

I still like the idea of Tom Cruise playing Jonathan, but he’s more an action movie guy. Plus, there’s the whole weird Scientology thing. So I’m thinking Ryan Gosling.

That final scene at the Mahabodhi Temple would be really powerful if I’m trying to choose between Dev and Ryan.

Actually, if that’s the case, I don’t want to make a choice.

I can’t see myself walking away from either of those guys.

Yes, I know the whole point of the story is that I become a strong and confident woman who doesn’t need a man by her side.

But just because I find myself doesn’t mean I lose my goddamn mind.

We’re talking Dev Patel and Ryan Gosling, for heaven’s sake.

Now to that update on my love life you’ve all been waiting for. Obviously propositioning someone for sex isn’t the same as professing true and undying love.

For those of you familiar with Australian Bachelor folklore, I did a Honey Badger.

I chose the present. And I chose me. The bottom line is I don’t need or want a man full time.

Although I didn’t slam the door shut quite as hard as our mulleted rugby mate.

I believe the expression is ‘friends with benefits’.

And the benefits with Utkarsh really are excellent.

I love Utkarsh and he knows that. He makes my soul sing.

But I also don’t want to barrel blindly into another relationship.

Maybe we’ll crank things up a few notches in the future.

But the fact is, the guy is still grieving his wife.

He might not be a crane when it comes to sex, but he still needs more time to heal and who knows where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing when he really is ready for his next great love.

I’d like it to be me, but I’m not waiting around.

Jonathan and I separated. It’s amicable. He never got back with matchstick Mia. I’m glad of that. She really did seem like a right bitch. I’m happy to report that judging from his Facebook page, Jonathan isn’t lonely.

Emily has picked up a few commercials and auditioned for a local beach-based drama. She’s waiting to hear how that went. But her body is definitely Baywatch worthy so we’re quietly confident.

Katie dropped the chinless rich guy not long after his father was removed from the board. The whole thing had a ‘Me Too’ vibe but it was all very hush-hush. She’s now dating an Argentinian polo player half her age.

Rachael never changes. I see her every other week and her colour stylist every other month. His name is Kit Boo, and I cannot recommend him highly enough.

My relationship with my mother is the best it’s ever been.

She still calls and texts at the most inconvenient times, but I don’t always answer and she is cool with that.

Dad is disappearing into dementia. India was definitely his last big trip.

But he recognises me and I hold that in my heart every time I visit.

He also thinks he’s married to the Queen.

But there are people out there who believe that there’s a cannibalistic child sex–trafficking ring operating out of the basement of a pizza joint in Washington D.C.

, so, you tell me: who’s crazy? Plus, my mother really is a queen, just not the type you’d put on a stamp.

As for me, I’m slowly making my way through that ridiculous list I wrote when I was thirteen.

I’m not a famous journalist but I have written a few opinion columns on middle age and ageing.

I have a book deal and I’m (kind of) single and fabulous.

I’m not a fashion icon but I have updated my wardrobe to accommodate my healthier figure.

Getting down to a size 8 is a step too far but I do get to the gym a few times a week.

Emily remains my best chance of getting to the Logies.

And I have booked a trip to Europe with Rachael and Katie later this year. No, we are not taking a Contiki tour.

Every day is even better than the one before it. And isn’t that a great way to live?

Bring on sixty, I say! But not too quickly.