Divya set her bag down and sat wearily on the old couch that she’d gotten at a yard sale. At least the temperature in New York City was much cooler than in Rajasthan.
She looked around the small apartment. Her bathroom at home was bigger than the entire five-hundred-square-foot efficiency, which included a galley kitchen, bathroom and bedroom/living room. The entire closet wasn’t even big enough for her shoe collection, but luckily all she’d come with was a suitcase worth of stuff and a Martin guitar.
This was the best she could afford right now, and she was fine with that. Arjun had offered to give her money, but she’d refused. Rajiv and Gauri had invited her to live with them. They were centrally located in Manhattan, and it would’ve made her life easier than commuting into the city more than an hour each way on buses and the subway. She had a small advance from the contract she’d signed with East Side Records, and for now, it was enough to pay the rent on this small place in New Jersey.
She ran her hand over the guitar. It was her only connection to Ethan. After he’d walked out on the dinner with her parents, she’d gone knocking on his hotel room door only to find the room empty. He wouldn’t answer her calls, texts or emails. Why wouldn’t he even give her a chance to explain?
The answer was plain as day. He’d realized he’d been impulsive again and done what he did best: give up.
It had been six months since that fateful dinner and not a day went by when she thought about whether she should have gone with him. But how could she have? She’d seen Sameer drinking that night at dinner, and she couldn’t leave without making sure he was okay. Her worst fears had come true when she’d found Sameer in bed the next morning, clearly hungover. She’d hoped it was just alcohol but knew enough from her research about addiction to know that he was in trouble. She had returned to India with her parents and siblings, to wallow in self-pity and watch over Sameer. Her parents assumed that she had come to her senses regarding Ethan. She’d slipped into her old life like a familiar pair of jeans that went with everything but felt a little too tight.
She searched Ethan’s name on Google every day, and while there were articles about his company, he had disappeared from public life. It was as if he’d been a figment of her imagination. Then a month later, the Martin guitar had showed up at her house in India. There was no note, but she knew what he was trying to tell her.
She’d been miserable in her regularly scheduled life. The work of lawyering brought her no joy. Her mother dragging her to social events made her want to scream. Then the guitar had arrived, and she’d realized that just because Ethan was gone didn’t mean that she had to go back to her old life. She had fled her wedding in search of her dream. A dream that could turn into reality. It was time to follow through.
She’d sent her demo to East Side Records and they had asked her to come to New York.
Sameer had still been lying to her about his addiction, and she’d finally called Arjun and told him what was going on with their brother. With typical take-charge efficiency, Arjun found the best rehab facility in the United States and flew Sameer there in the family jet. Sameer’s continued relapses had finally made her realize that she had done him a disservice by trying to manage his addiction herself.
She’d packed her bags, left her parents a note along with a special item for her mom, and bought an economy class ticket on a commercial plane to New York.
The album with East Side Records was being released next week.
Her phone buzzed with a video call from Sameer. She clicked and greeted her brother. Sameer had stayed in the facility for ninety days and had been out for two months. “How’s the next Beyoncé settling into her new space?”
She grinned back at her brother, noting how great he looked. He’d been sober for five months, and she had nothing to do with it. “It’s a little basic, but I don’t need much.” She turned the camera to show him.
“Basic? Div, our servants live in better quarters than that. I don’t understand why you won’t use your bank accounts. Ma and Dad haven’t cut you off, you know. Stop being stubborn and call them. I’m sure they’ll come to the launch party if you personally invite them.”
“I sent them the invitation.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know who’s more stubborn, you or them.”
“I will not be held hostage emotionally.”
Her parents’ plan had almost worked. The entire time she’d been back in India, her parents had reminded her of her responsibility and duty to the family. If Ethan hadn’t sent the guitar, she would’ve slipped further into her old life. But leaving India made her realize that she’d faced her worst fear, and she was fine. As Arjun reminded her, he’d been forgiven for wanting to marry Rani, and eventually Divya would be forgiven too. She had to wait out their parents.
“Well, I am not staying in that dump when I come next week, but I do have a surprise for you that should be arriving any second.”
As if on cue, someone knocked on the door. She opened it and a deliveryman handed her a giant box from Naeem Khan, one of her favorite designers, known for his Indian-influenced dresses. She squealed and set the phone on the coffee table so Sameer could see her unbox it. “You didn’t!”
“My sister is not going to launch her first album wearing something off-the-rack.”
Divya pulled out the beautiful gown. It was pale pink with a sheer black layer embellished with intricate embroidery. She excused herself to put it on and it fit perfectly. The asymmetric neckline was striking, and the hem was just the right length for the heels that were included in the box.
“Oh my God, I love it.” She twirled in front of the phone’s camera for Sameer to see.
“I asked Ma to contact your tailor in India to send your measurements to the New York boutique. I think she’s ready to forgive you.”
Divya ignored his comment. “This dress is way too tasteful for something you would pick out and way too risqué for Ma’s tastes.”
“I had help,” he said slyly.
She narrowed her eyes. “Sameer, are you already dating? You know what the therapist said about taking time to be by yourself.”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s just a friend. Relax.” Then his voice became serious. “You don’t have to worry about me, Div. I’m really good this time.” She believed him. He sounded different—stronger, more confident. “Arjun and Rani have been amazing in supporting me, and Karishma’s really stepped up with the India office. She’s way better than you were.”
Divya smiled. She hadn’t given her younger sister enough credit for being ready to step up. She’d always see her as the little girl who pulled her pigtails and stole her toys.
“Karishma is so good, she actually got the family jet for her and Naina to come to New York for your launch party.”
Divya’s heart filled with love for her siblings. They’d banded together to support her, and yet it felt like a piece of her soul was missing.
“Have you invited him?”
Sameer didn’t have to say who he meant. They both knew. She shook her head.
“Want me to invite him?”
“Don’t you dare. I’ve tried contacting him. If he wanted to talk to me, he knows how to get hold of me.”
“Have you ever thought about the fact that he was right in running away? You didn’t exactly stand up for him with Ma and Dad. Even I wasn’t sure that you really wanted to be with him. You seemed to be unsure of what you wanted.”
“It’s what he does, Sam. He decides to take something on full steam ahead and when it gets real, he runs away. It’s best I forget about him.”
“You don’t seem okay,” Sameer said.
She pasted a smile on her face. “Of course I am. I’m just jittery getting ready for the record launch.” After she hung up the phone, she ran her hands over the guitar. She wasn’t okay. Her parachute hadn’t opened and she didn’t know what to do. She was hurtling toward the ground, and Ethan wasn’t there to pull the cord.