A good Indian Girl

Chapter 3

Anjali stared at the book in her hand, her grip tightening at the lingering love story plaguing her. She had to stop this, there was no use replaying what would lead to her certain heartbreak. Pushing the book back into its place and quieting her mind, she decided it was time to head back to her car.

Once home, she dug her phone out of her purse. On finding it she saw on the screen, ten missed calls. She sighed and opened the call log. Five were from her mom, three from her sister, one from her fiancé, and one, blocked I.D. Anjali stared at her call log for a beat and then started listening to her messages.

The first message played, Anjali, this is your mother. Call me back.

Deleted.

The second message played Anjali. How many times must I call you? There is a wedding to be planned, are you out running the streets in —

Deleted.

The third message played, Anjali...call...me...back. Her mother's voice shot through the phone.

Deleted.

The fourth message played, Anjali hai. Her mother started to cry. Why are you behaving in such a way? Your father is going to make you a dead duck, you hear me. When I see you —

Deleted.

The fifth message played, Anjiiiii, this is your one and only sister, Nisha sang into the phone. Mom is having an ultra-meltdown and is calling me like crazy. You're probably with your future husband but, do us a favor, call mom.

Anjali sighed and deleted that message too. Future husband, she thought before listening to the next message.

Hey, Meri Jaan, a deep voice began. How are you? I have been texting but you're not responding, I hope you're alright.

She could tell he was smiling.

Anyways, your mom has called me a few times looking for you. Give her a call, okay? And call me after. I love you.

Anjali decided to save the message and call him back right away. There was one more message, but it was probably her mom.

She dialed his number, he answered on the second ring.

"Meri Jaan."

He was smiling.

"Hi, Nikhil," Anjali responded, "I got your message, my phone was on silent."

"Oh okay, well, how are you doing?" He asked, he had missed her voice.

"I am good," she lied again, "Are you working late?" she asked even though she knew the answer.

"Yeah, I just wanted to take a break and see how my favorite woman is. You know your mom has been calling my desk too," he laughed.

"Yeah, sorry. I should probably call her back," she sighed.

"Probably. Auntie is not a patient woman," he laughed again. "Hey, how about tomorrow, can we meet for lunch?"

"That sounds good. I'll call you tomorrow then?" She walked into her room and sat on her bed.

"Okay. I'll try and call you again tonight."

"Okay, sounds good," she half-smiled.

"I love you," Nikhil said, his voice full of warmth.

"Love you too, Nik," she forced herself to say before disconnecting the call. She flung herself backwards on her bed and closed her eyes.

It wasn't that she didn't love Nikhil, they had always loved each other. They were best friends, since before they could remember. But was she in love with him? No.

She was certain he was deeply in love with her, and by the way he spoke of their future, he was sure to make her happy. He would give her a home, children, and security. To ask for anything more would be selfish really. To go after anything more would be shameful. She had to keep telling herself that this is what was planned from childhood. She had agreed to this herself and had no right to back out now.

Anjali sat up and rubbed her forehead. She decided to call her mom after checking the remaining voicemail. She wanted to see what mood her mom was last in.

I'm sorry. I know this isn't easy for you, and I am not making it any better.

She heard a desperate voice breathe out.

I just...I wish you could stand up to your family. I know they mean a lot to you, but I thought I did too, he paused.

She heard a slight sniffle.

I had hoped anyway. I wish you the best, but I can't forgive you right now. Right now, I need to hate you, so I can stop loving you. I just — the message ended.

Anjali's heart dropped; she quickly re-clicked the message. She replayed Henry's message over and over trying to decipher each inflection until her phone buzzed telling her to charge it.

She saved the message but forced herself to stop listening to it. She plugged her phone into the charger and decided to call her mother tomorrow. She knew she would be mad, but Anjali had the rest of her life to make her mom happy.

Tonight, she would cry for her Henry. She would shut the world out and not feel guilty. She would open a bottle of wine and play his message until it lulled her to sleep.