Page 49

Visha

I spent too much time avoiding him and now I can’t shake off the spiders of guilt crawling all over me.

I should have spent more time with Aoi. It doesn’t matter that he hates me!

All I want is to see him, so I rush home in the morning, bursting open the door. Rushed footsteps echo in the hallway and then I see it. He’s standing there, looking at me with a bright smile.

I can’t think of anything else as I jump into his arms. There isn’t a single thing in the world more precious than the comfort the smile of your loved one offers you in times of need.

“I’m sorry!” I cry, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I should’ve called. I shouldn’t have spent so much time away. I was stupid and upset and-”

Soft palms brush my cheeks, caressing the skin under my humid eyes. “I’m sorry too. I should never have left and come back drunk. I was hurt because you were right, and I couldn’t admit it,” he confesses, resting his forehead against mine.

“You don’t remember what you said?”

“What I said? When?

He doesn’t? Well then. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

His touch brings me a type of joy and comfort that I forgot I could even feel. It’s different from having fun with your best friends.

No one can best the love he showers me in.

Tingles and shimmers spark under my skin, igniting something new and yet familiar. I want to touch him and kiss him. I want to feel his warmth on mine, but I can’t.

He doesn’t want me the way I want him. That’s fine. I understand, I really do. In the end all that truly matters is that he loves me too and that all this nonsense was just a stupid fight.

“Now tell me all about your fun days with your friends,” he murmurs, beckoning me to the couch. “You better have something good to tell.”

His honey-like laugh reverberates in the space, and I relish the sensation of being back home.

***

We order Indian food and put on Sex and the City on TV. We haven’t finished watching the show ever since we started it a couple weeks ago.

I personally like Charlotte York the most. She always knows what she wants and doesn’t derive from her goal to find her perfect man.

“I’m telling you that Carrie is just a bad friend to the others!” he complains, pointing at the screen. “Just look at her! She’s so obnubilated by Big that she completely forgot she was supposed to have dinner with Miranda.”

He grabs a piece of naan and dips it in the spicy tikka masala before shoving it in his mouth. “Samatha would never do that to her girls. She’s always putting her friends first and men second.”

“You always get so heated whenever we watch an episode.” I snort, bringing my knees to my chest and resting my cheek on them.

This position gives me the perfect view of Aoi in his burgundy sweater and his grey panda pajama pants.

I want to ask him to come with me, but I know he won’t. He loves his job, and I doubt he wants to resign simply to follow me to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

He has a life and dreams. I can’t come in between that. Also, what about college? He doesn’t have his master’s degree yet and leaving mid semester would be more than out of character for him.

“Do you want some Soda? I’m heading to the kitchen.”

“Yeah, sure.” I nod, smiling like an idiot. “Thanks.”

He flashes me a quick smile and disappears into the kitchen long enough for me to focus back on Carrie’s speech.

Honestly, I have to agree with Aoi that Carrie’s a terrible friend but that’s not all. She’s a pretty shitty person in the show, especially for having an affair with Big when she’s dating Aidan.

I know it’s a TV show and that many aspects aren’t realistic but being a New Yorker that spends their time going on dates and having the time of their life sounds amazing to me.

Aoi walks back in with two cans of Soda. “Here you go.”

“What were the 2000s like for you?” I inquire, curious about his childhood.

He starts laughing suddenly as if the mere thought embarrasses him. “My God, it was different from now, but I was a toddler during those years. I don’t remember much other than what I saw in pics.”

“Right! You were born in 1997. So, you were a teen in the 2010’s?” I turn my entire body to face him. “How was it?”

He stares at me and shakes his head. “Honestly? Those were the best years of my life.”

A melancholic smile clings to his lips, forcing me to ponder what the reason behind it may be. I stare at him, wishing for an explanation or an anecdote but he simply ruffles up my hair.

“Tell me! I wanna know.”

Quite seriously, yet never letting go of that perfectly crafted smile, he says, “I’ll tell you another time. We’d need more than just a couple hours to unpack that era.”

So, I drop it.

I grab the remote and resume the episode. We don’t watch in silence, of course not. Aoi is incapable of shutting up when we watch anything. It doesn’t matter if it’s a movie, a show or even a book. He will comment and argue about everything that he wants without care.

“See? Jesus Christ, I told you she’d do that,” he groans, leaning back against the couch frame. “Carrie behaves like an immature child. I respect that free spirited mind of hers, but she dates the weirdest men.”

He glances at me as if he’s asking for my opinion and I just nod dramatically. “You’re so right.”

He rolls his eyes and laughs at my obvious mockery. Then suddenly he taps his lap, and I beam.

I lay my head in his lap, relishing the sensation of his fingers brushing through my hair.

This is love.

This is happiness.