“What are you talking about?” he asked in what appeared to be sincerity.
I took a deep breath to gather my thoughts. “I know that I have a bad rep, especially at mandir. No respectable guy there takes me seriously.”
“So…are you saying that I’m not respectable, or that I don’t take you seriously?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
His jaw twitched. “You can’t just cram all men into the asshole category, Liya. We’re not all the same. I’m not perfect by any means, but I sure as crap am not a walking dick conniving to use you. The fact that you even think I am makes me wonder—”
“Why you’re even here?”
He clenched his teeth, working that tick awfully hard now. “Makes me wonder who hurt you so badly.”
I froze. Some small part of me knew that telling him would be just fine. That maybe he’d understand or even take my side, but then there were all the hard facts of my life:
Good guys didn’t date me.
Bad boys, irresponsible jerks, players, or short-term commitments came around. Those who wanted sex, a good time were constants. Men fell into three categories: ones who wanted me for my body, ones who were intimidated by my personality, or ones who dismissed me because of my reputation.
Those who wanted to take me home to meet their mothers and sisters? Well, that had never happened. The fact that I knew Jay’s family was a matter of circumstances. Why was he even here, though? Did he have a point to prove? Did he truly just want sex…and then he’d walk away from us? Because I knew for certain that I was not the type of girl he’d end up taking to dinner with his mom of his own accord.
“Do you think I’d hurt you, Liya?” he asked, cutting through my thoughts.
I scoffed. “Of course you would.”
“There you go again, assuming the worst.”
“Well, let me ask you this: Would you tell the entire mandir that you want to marry me?”
He let out a long breath. “This isn’t about marriage. You don’t even want that.”
“Marriage is always the end game. Neither you nor your family wants you to be unmarried for the rest of your life. I don’t want marriage, so you’re wasting your time.”
“I’m not wasting anything, because I know once you let down your guard and realize I’m not another Mike, that you might actually want more with me, that marriage can be a good thing.”
I took a step back, feeling the hard, cold railing press into my lower spine. “What if I wanted a marriage? Would you, in front of everyone there, in front of the entire community, no matter what they say or think about me, stand proudly with your mom and your brother and say, ‘Liya is the right woman for me’?”
“Of course I would,” he said without needing a moment to consider his response, his expression full of sympathy and wanting.
“And if they had something profoundly disgusting to say about me, that others agreed with, would you still stand up for me?” I asked bitterly, my hands trembling with both rage and the abysmal fight it took to stave off the pain.
He sighed and rubbed the crook of his nose. “What are you getting at? What would anyone have to say that’s so terrible?”
“Something vicious and evil…could be anything. It doesn’t matter. But the way they look at me would be the way they look at you. If you stood your ground.”
He scoffed. “I don’t care what others think.”
“And if those insinuating, judgmental eyes were cast over to your brother? Your mother?”
He swallowed but didn’t respond. And that’s how I knew. Maybe Jayesh Shah was a good guy. Maybe he wasn’t another Mike. But he was someone who would protect his mother and his brother, and if that meant keeping me and all those sticky, insidious rumors from touching them…well, Jay had to do what he had to do.
All emotion drained from his face. He parted his lips to speak, but my finger touched them first.
“This date is over,” I said softly, as if pardoning him. It wasn’t his fault that he cared about his family. In fact, that made him admirable.
And just like that, we drove back to the dock. When he went to return the boat, I disappeared.
Chapter Nineteen
Jay
Kaajal wove in and out of chattering groups of people after the program that Sunday at mandir. She was pleasant, full of cheer, bursting with respect and earning just as much. She was a respectable woman. I saw why some would match us, but she wasn’t Liya.
“She’s pretty, huh, beta?” Ma asked, standing beside me in a constantly moving crowd.
“She is.”
“What do you think of her?”
I shrugged. “She’s nice.”
Ma gave me a studious glance and pressed her lips together in her usual I-know-what-you’re-thinking manner. “But you like Liya,” she said point-blank.
I couldn’t even manage a stutter. How did Ma know me so well? It wasn’t as if I’d been gushing over Liya.
Ma nodded once and left to take prayer. Kaajal caught my eye before moving through crowds to get to me.
“You look lovely today,” I told her.
“Thank you. I’ve had this sari for a while, but I don’t usually wear them. Guess I have to get used to it.”
“Well, you wear it well.”
She blushed.
I cleared my throat. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, but what else could she think? Her parents wanted us to get together and Ma liked her, and here I was giving her compliments.
We made small talk: work, plans for the year, etc. Conversing with her was as free-flowing as chatting with my brother.
I laughed.
“What?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Uh, getting along with people here is such a relief after the hectic week I dealt with.” And the agonizingly few days since Liya bolted.
Her smile dazzled, big and bright, as she suggested, “Maybe we could get coffee sometime?”
Liya’s face streaked across my vision. Fiery, distrustful, unwilling to lower her guard.
“Are you there, Jay? I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Kaajal said.
“No. No. Distracted. Sorry. No, I’d like to get coffee.”
She beamed. In the distance behind her, her father nodded, and several eyes casually glanced over us as if the entire mandir knew our conversation. Including Liya’s friends. They immediately walked over, and suddenly we were thrown into some Indian soap opera.
Reema and Sana squeezed in between us to say hello. Kaajal, undeterred, greeted them and kept the conversation going.
“Have you spoken with Liya lately?” Reema asked, boldly giving Kaajal shade. Kaajal’s perfect demeanor cracked with hints of annoyance.
I answered, “Not in a while. I saw her at the office for a second or two. Why?”
“We haven’t heard from her, either,” Reema replied, her voice laden with worry, a concern that quickly wove through me.
“Have you dropped by her place?”
“Yeah, but…” Reema looked over her shoulder and asked, “Do you mind?”
Kaajal placed a hand on her hip. “I believe that you interrupted us. Do you mind?”