He shook his head and did a few reps. “Was it worth it? Missed the gym, probably went to work tired, all stressed out. Why are you even talking to her? Thought you hated her.”
“She’s not that bad.”
“Even if you were arguing all night? And what exactly were you arguing about?”
“Why she ditched the dinner with me.”
“Okay.” He stopped. “Why? May the mystery of the vanishing arranged could’ve-been fiancée be solved.”
“She doesn’t want to get married.”
“And that was reason enough to leave?”
“Her side of the story is that she’s been arguing with her parents about settling down. She told them she didn’t want to meet me, and nothing against me personally, but she went to her parents’ house under the impression they just wanted her over for dinner. She didn’t realize her parents ambushed her until we walked into the house.”
“Still not a good enough reason to bolt the way she did.” He shrugged. Jahn wasn’t wrong. No argument there.
“My thoughts exactly. At the least excuse yourself or go through the dinner and let me know on the side.”
“No. She couldn’t have sat through dinner; that would’ve just led Ma on. But she could’ve excused herself and saved her parents the embarrassment.”
“You see how the argument started.” I shook my head, exasperated. Liya and I had two sides to the same story, and we couldn’t find a middle ground.
“Yes. But why did it last all night? What else did you guys possibly have to talk about? She doesn’t want to get married. She was duped into the meeting. She ran. You didn’t agree with how she handled it. That’s about two minutes’ worth of conversation,” he said, and we switched places.
“Then we got into it over her ideas of what she thinks Indian men want in a wife, because, as you know, we’re all the same.”
“That could go on forever, but the question I’m really wondering is why did you let it go on all night?”
“It’s hard not to argue back with her.” I grunted with another push on my machine, working my pecs.
Jahn smirked. “Maybe you like her.”
I shook my head before my brother got the wrong idea. “She’s tolerable.”
“So, then, why are you so agitated?”
“She asked about Dad,” I admitted with an annoyed sigh.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” We switched machines, Jahn on the chest press while I worked on triceps.
“And she probed?” Jahn asked, watching me more intently than I wanted.
“No. She didn’t ask anything else. Why would she?”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She got me thinking about Dad, more than usual, that is. So now I’m pissed.” Not to mention it reminded me that I didn’t deserve a happy ending with a wife and kids of my own. Not when I took Dad’s happy ending from him.
Jahn sighed in that brother, we’re about to have a talk sort of way. Resting his hands on his thighs, he bent at the waist. But I kept going, pushed harder, added more weights even when I strained.
“Calm down,” he said, “before you hurt yourself. Don’t take what happened so hard after all these years.”
I slammed the weights down, almost snapping my elbows. “Are you joking? Don’t take it so hard? Our dad died.”
Jahn, always the tempered one between the two of us, replied compassionately, “Yeah, I know, but he died over fifteen years ago. I expect Ma to still mourn, but not so much us anymore.”
I scoffed. “Did Dad die because of you?”
“God.” Jahn shook his head. “You still blame yourself for what happened?”
I gawked at him. “Are you kidding me? I am the reason he died.” I sprang to my feet and returned to the free weights, claiming a bench to use forty-pound dumbbells.
Jahn waited about five minutes before grabbing a free weight for himself, allowing me some time to calm down. “You’re not the only one who had to deal with his death.”
“How are you even able to look at me and not hate me?”
“You think I blame you? Or hate you?” He eyed me, his features relaxed, kind. We’d had this talk a hundred times. It had been intense at first, mixed with tears and anger and frustration. Over time, Jahn ended up always being the calming one.
As for me? Anger still rose. Rage coated my insides and bubbled through my words. “Of course you do. Maybe you never said it or showed it, but you have to think it.”
“You’re being an idiot,” he said a little harshly to drive the point home.
“So you have no resentment toward me?”
“No. I honestly do not. Never have.”
I wiped my brow with my arm but kept pumping. By now, my arms had turned to rubber noodles, but I kept going.
“We were all devastated. We still miss him. Especially Ma. I had to become the man of the house to support us, and still go to college to honor our parents and be able to take care of you and Ma,” Jahn said.
“I’m grateful. Believe me. But didn’t you wish that you could just enjoy life?”
Jahn replied, “It’s my honor. Remember that word? It’s what our parents taught us. We don’t blame people or hate situations. We deal, accept, move on, and make the best of it. We’re fine now. Why? Because we remained strong and kept focused. It was hard, but worth it. I had the honor of taking care of my family and still getting my degree. I married an amazing woman and we’re about to have a child. You got through law school. Dad wanted us to live our best lives, be happy. That’s how we can honor him. We always had a meal in our bellies, right? A roof over our heads? Love in our home?”
“Yes,” I answered. Jahn had a different way of looking at things. Was being happy a way to honor Dad? It felt more like betrayal.
“I hate that he died. I hate how it happened. I hate that you blame yourself and think we blame you, too. What Dad was…he was a hero. If we end up being half the man he was, we’ll be lucky. You know what I mean?”
I sighed. “Yeah.”
“You just saying that? Or do you believe it?” He grabbed my head and put me in a headlock.
I grappled with him, and he let go real quick. “Yeah. Yeah. I believe you. You wouldn’t lie, right? Even to spare my feelings?”
“I’m not lying. You know me too well for that. Are we cool?” Jahn asked with raised brows and a hint of a smile.
I mumbled, “Yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing. Do I have to put you into another headlock?” he joked.
“And risk getting beat in public? Try it,” I jested.
He laughed, and I gently shoved him.
After our gym time, we headed to our cars. I placed a towel on the driver’s seat for the drive home.
“So, you’re really not interested in Liya?” Jahn asked, still standing next to me.
“I’m not. She’s nice enough once you get to know her, but Ma doesn’t need her attitude or to deal with the avalanche of rumors surrounding her.” I shook my head and jangled the keys in my hand.
“Then you’re open to considering a different woman?”