My Last Love Story (15 page)

I didn’t know what to think or how to feel, so I locked myself in the bathroom and counted to fifty. I ignored Nirvaan’s knocks and apologies.

“Don’t be upset, baby. We can do it if you want to. Just come out.”

Wow. Just wow.

I blew out a breath and counted backward to zero while Nirvaan offered up a dozen different ways we could
do it
to try to make up for his obvious rebuff.

I stripped off my towel and hung it on the rail to dry. Then, I yanked open the bathroom door. Nirvaan stood there, mouth open, fist raised, ready to knock again. I brushed past him into the walk-in closet and pulled on underwear, sports bra, and my cropped yoga pants.

He came up behind me, slipped his arms around me, hugging me tight. “Simi,
please
.”

I didn’t know what he was begging for.

Please, Simi, let’s make love
, or,
Please, Simi, try to understand why I can’t.

Can’t or don’t wish to
, I added, savagely yanking on a sweatshirt.

I turned in his arms and wrapped my own arms about him, hugging him back equally hard. “It’s okay. We don’t have to. You certainly don’t have to make me feel good like that. You make me happy in so many other ways.”

I squeezed him once more and stepped out from under him, walking out of the closet. I picked up my phone and earphones.

“I’m not upset. Truly,” I said, glancing at him, as he stood in the closet, frowning fiercely at me. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Simi.”

I hardened my expression just like he’d done when he rejected me. “I’m going for a walk on the beach. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Then, I ran out of the house before my anger ran down my cheeks.

Nirvaan knew me well enough to leave me alone until I’d gotten my mad under control. He didn’t follow me, but as I marched away from the house, I heard him shout from the deck that if I wasn’t back in half an hour, I’d regret it.

Ha.
Regret it. You bet I regret…something.
I just wasn’t sure what.

I couldn’t believe I was turning myself inside out trying to have his baby, and he couldn’t do this one thing…one thing for me. I didn’t care that he couldn’t physically do what I wanted without aid. We had the aid. But we’d had performance issues even with the aid before…and maybe that was what worried him?

“
Argh.
Stop making excuses for him!” I shouted into the night.

I came to a stop by the edge of the water and tried to calm down. After ten breaths, I continued onward at a more sedate pace. I didn’t want the cramps to come back.

The wind whispered against my face and hair, cooling my anger-hot cheeks. It was late at night, but the beach wasn’t dark and scary—not like Dandi. The scattered houses along the turf were mostly occupied, and if not fully lit from inside out, they had at least a couple of lights switched on to give me direction. I walked along the shallow, cold water.

Thick clouds of thoughts whirled in my mind. Nirvaan’s unhappy face floated to the forefront like a gathering storm. I couldn’t believe he’d refused to make love to me. Usually, it was the other way round. And I couldn’t believe he thought I wanted Zayaan in our bed.

Ha.
Like I’d ever now.

I slowed the pace, letting my toes dig into the sand for purchase. We’d never had a proper threesome. We’d come close to it though because of me, my choices, my
greed
. Our trifecta existed because of me. It had begun with me and ended with me, never mind that it was Nirvaan who’d suggested we consummate it first.

He’d flown down for his cousin’s wedding during his senior year Christmas break. He’d been feeling randy and hungover, possibly jet-lagged, after the bachelor party. I remembered him bringing up The Threesome Pact the very next afternoon at our favorite daytime hangout place—Nanubhai’s Pizza Parlor.

“We’re going to be eighteen freaking years old in less than six months. College awaits us. Fucking adult life awaits us. We have to do something spectacular this year,” he’d said, pulling me into his armpit for a boisterous hug. “Let’s do the threesome.”

We’d stared at him, speechless—me in growing excitement, Zayaan in insufferable irritation. We’d been putting off The Threesome Pact for years because of Zayaan. For once, the smell of fresh oven-baked pizzas hadn’t ruled our stomachs like the conversation had.

“Let’s not,” Zayaan had barked out, from which had ensued a prolonged three-way debate.

Zayaan had been dead set against a threesome involving me.

“It might cause problems between us to have sex together,” he’d warned.

He’d loved me and was disinclined to share me anymore. The declaration hadn’t shocked Nirvaan. We’d discussed love and marriage in front of him before—sometimes, in jest, and sometimes, not. But Zayaan hadn’t been joking that day.

“Look, Sims, I’m serious about marrying you. I’m in love with you. This isn’t a joke.”

“You bet it’s not a joke. Did you seriously,
seriously
, just propose to me in a pizza joint?” I’d asked, delighted and terrified and intrigued all at the same time.

I’d been drowning in my love for him, deeper every day with every breath. But I’d wanted the threesome for so long. I’d wanted to eat my cake and have it, too. I’d wanted them both that day.

Nirvaan had laughed and slapped Zayaan on his shoulder. “Yeah, man. Have some clue as to what a girl wants.”

Zayaan had flicked a violent glare at Nirvaan before his eyes had snared me in their thrall. “What do you want, Simeen? Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

He’d wanted me to choose monogamy. He’d wanted me to choose him. I’d seen the dark hope sparking his eyes. I’d felt unspeakably powerful that day and so vastly naughty.

“I want you so much,” I’d said honestly, groping for his hand under the plastic red-and-white table.

He could’ve thrown a smug victor’s smile in Nirvaan’s direction, but Zayaan had always been too smart for his own good. “But?” he’d asked, somehow knowing I wasn’t done choosing.

“I want you. I want marriage with you, a whole life with you. But I want Nirvaan, too. I want this threesome even if it’s just one time. I’ve dreamed of this, Zai, for three years. You made me wait. You made Nirvaan wait. You owe us this.”

He hadn’t gotten upset with me.

I understood now that he’d had every right to be offended. I’d chosen him, yet I’d not. He hadn’t berated me or tried to change my mind. He’d nodded, frowning, maybe even in relief because, in his heart of hearts, he’d wanted it, too.

I’d turned to Nirvaan then and laughed at his somber expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you serious. Having second thoughts, Mr. Big Talk?”

“No.” He had taken my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together before bringing it to his lips. “But you be very sure, babe. And if you decide not to go through with it, no hard feelings, okay? Or if you decide to marry me instead…problem solved,” he’d said, ending the discussion on a deliberately light note.

All hunky-dory assurances aside, I’d made it clear to Nirvaan that I wished for Zayaan to be my first.

As it’d turned out, neither of them had been my first.

My phone rang just then, arresting my mind from vaulting into Karmic consequences for wickedness and divine justice.

It was my brother, Sarvar. “
Su garbar karee?
What did you do? Your husband called, said you’d run off in a huff. Everything okay?”

“My husband is driving me nuts,” I said.

I was not especially surprised Nirvaan had called my brother. He had known I’d need to talk to someone.

Sarvar was the only person in the world who knew every single thing about me. He knew my deepest, darkest secrets because I didn’t hide anything from him. Zayaan used to be that person. Nirvaan might’ve been that person had life been gentler with us.

“So, what’s new?” Sarvar asked, mid-yawn.

“Apparently, we mustn’t have sex because Zayaan…bloody Zayaan…might
hear
. I don’t care if he hears. I don’t care if the whole neighborhood thinks we’re porn stars. I want to make love to my husband.”

Sarvar cleared his throat. “
R-ight.
Understandable.”

He already knew about the two-year hiatus. I wasn’t really being indiscreet here, not like Nirvaan had been about us with Zai.

“Isn’t it? But, no, my husband doesn’t seem to think so. He had the gall to offer me a pity-fuck through the bathroom door,” I said, getting riled up again.
Not to mention, a side order of oral sex.
But I didn’t say that aloud. I couldn’t be that crude.

“Whoa.
O-kay
, Simeen, darling…do I need to hear this?”

“Who else can I talk to, Savvy? Tell me.” I pressed a hand to my forehead, afraid my head was going to explode. “And don’t say
your therapist
because I don’t want my head examined. I want to vent.” And scream. And kick something. Or someone.

After a moment of silence, a great, sonorous sigh came through the phone. “
R-ight
,” my brother said again. “Go on.”

I vented for a while, leaving nothing out.

“I keep thinking of that night because of Zai. I mean, Zai doesn’t scare me. Of course, he doesn’t scare me.”

Not in the way his brother had. But he made me feel…icky. He made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.

“There’s this chaos inside of me, Savvy, and I’m afraid to let it loose. I don’t know if Zai is the trigger or Nirvaan, but I keep thinking of Surat and…and the rest,” I said. The photos…the guys and I living together…the reminiscing…the IVF…Khodai—my life was pure torture.

“Of course you’re thinking of the past, darling. It’s perfectly understandable.”

I looked into the night sky, feeling utterly lost. “I miss Mumsy. So much.”
Why did you have to die? I need you to tell me what to do.

“I know, honey. I miss her, too,” Sarvar said softly. “I wish you’d call Dr. Asha. I don’t know what to say to you or how to help you. You’re going through a lot, sweetie.”

“Really? I hadn’t guessed.” Immediately, I felt bad for taking my upset out on Sarvar with sarcasm. “I’m sorry, Savvy. I didn’t mean to sound like a brat or put you on the spot.”

“Forget it.” Then, he said the same thing Zayaan had, “Talk to Nirvaan. Tell him what’s in your heart. He’ll understand, you know.”

Of course, he’ll understand
, I thought, yo-yoing between guilt, despair, and anger. But how did that make me any less of a leech? Always taking from him, never giving back.

It struck me how crazy I sounded. Just a short while ago, I’d accused Nirvaan of not doing nearly enough while expecting the world from me. It was my turn to burble out a sigh.

“I can’t tell him, Savvy. I just can’t. Anyway, I have to go, or Nirvaan will worry.”

“Tell him, darling,” repeated Sarvar. “And, Simi? Call Dr. Asha. You can always talk to me…but I want you to speak to her as well.”

“I will,” I promised. Wouldn’t hurt to get my head examined after all.

Before hanging up, Sarvar brought up our upcoming hiking weekend. He and a few of his buddies were going into the mountains and had invited us along. Nirvaan had already agreed, but I told Sarvar it would depend on how the radiation went.

After saying, “Good night,” I clicked the phone off and slid it into my pocket, wishing I could spend the night on the beach and not go home.

Home was supposed to be your shelter, a place to hang your heart and your hat. But when your own home was the cause of your problems, where did that leave you?

My mind a mess, it was no great surprise that sleep eluded me. Cozy as I was while spooned against Nirvaan on our bed, I still couldn’t relax.

Yes, we’d made up. He’d even forgone a chance to win some epic seven-day-long game for a night of cards, wine, and chocolates with me, in bed, without our chronic shadow.

I awoke for the third time at about two a.m. to answer a bladder call. By the time I finished my business and went back into the room, I was wide-awake. I got in bed, careful not to disturb Nirvaan, and switched on my Kindle.

I’d read exactly one page when Nirvaan began to mumble something about losing his body pillow. It took me a few seconds to realize he meant me. He rolled onto his back, crosswise on the queen-size bed, and started snoring. Grimacing, I slipped out of bed and stole out of the room. There was no way I’d fall asleep with that racket even if I managed to nudge him back to his side of the bed.