Vegas to Varanasi (Fortytude Series Book 1) (16 page)

I bite my lip and groan. “You got me.” I roll over and pick up my phone to view the message.

So that’s it? You’re seriously not going to respond to me?

I sigh heavily and flop myself flat on my back.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“I just don’t know what to say to him anymore that hasn’t already been said. Why is it so important to him that he and I remain friendly?”

Kiran runs a hand over my stomach and looks me in the eye. “Because he knows he made a mistake.”

Those green eyes have become my favorite place to lose myself, and I try to read them. I know he must be worried that I’ll get back together with David. I mean, if the tables were turned, I would have the same concerns, but there is no way it’s going to happen.

“He doesn’t think he made a mistake because he still loves me,” I say gently. “It’s only because he knows I’m here, with you, that he’s freaking out. If you weren’t in the picture, he wouldn’t give me a second thought.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore, okay?” I snuggle up to him. “Will you stay for a while? Or are you going up to see Dadi?”

He smooths my hair. “I’ll stay here for a while. If I’m gone when you wake, you know where I’ll be.” Nisha has invited us over for a traditional Indian dinner tonight before we take another taxi into old town. I really would enjoy seeing Dadi, but I’m kind of apprehensive about being in Nisha’s company.

My stomach is unsettled as I drift off to sleep. I’m hoping after a little rest, I’ll be good to go for the ceremony at the ghats tonight.

Twenty-Five

I wake to the most horrendous stomach cramps and nausea, and sprint for the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet when I vomit violently into the bowl.
No, no, no!
I cannot get sick while I’m here! My stay isn’t long enough to afford this setback.

I’m horrified to realize that my intestinal distress is about to strike at the other end. Lord, could this be any worse? Maybe if I pray to Shiva...

My stomach is searing with pain, and that damn YouTube video comes to mind. How did they word it so eloquently?
Worst case scenario, eject an explosive flock of sparrows.
This is without a doubt, worst case scenario, and the analogy doesn’t seem quite so funny now.

After twenty minutes of being unable to drag myself from the toilet, I’m certain there’s nothing left in my intestines and crawl back into bed, when I hear Kiran come through the front door.

The nausea is gripping, and I fling the covers over my head, groaning.

“Anna? Are you okay?” he asks, entering my room.

“No!” I cry. “I can’t go tonight because I’ve got Delhi Belly!”

“Ohhh.” He chuckles sympathetically, when another wave of nausea strikes and I make a mad dash to the bathroom.

I’m absolutely mortified when he comes to the doorway as I hang onto the bowl for dear life. “Could you please hand me that hairband?” I whimper.

He picks up a rubber band I had left on the counter, gathers my hair away from my face, and fastens it back.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll get you some water. You need to stay hydrated.”

When he leaves for the kitchen, I close the bathroom door and flip on the fan, feeling another bout of diarrhea coming on. Why oh why?

I emerge from the bathroom to see Kiran by the bed, with the blankets straightened and neatly pulled down. “Come lie down and drink some water.” I climb into bed and he hands me the bottle. “Just small sips, though. You don’t want to toss it back up.”

I do as he says, he takes the bottle from me, and I lie back on my pillow. “I was so careful, too. I didn’t even eat anything I shouldn’t have!”

“It still happens. I brought antibiotics with us, just in case it’s bacterial, but you need to wait until your stomach calms so you can keep them down.” He leans across me and dabs a cool rag to my face, and I swear to God, his tender gaze is going to be the end of me.

“You’re so good, Kiran,” I say weakly as he presses the rag to my forehead. “I’m sorry the women in your past didn’t see that. Though, I guess that’s easy for me to say because you’re so... well,
look
at you.” I shrug. “Maybe I would be just as shallow if you weren’t so beautiful.”

Okay, that was probably a little too much honesty, and I’m kind of wishing I hadn’t been so forthcoming.

Kiran straightens and removes the cloth from my face. “The word
shallow
and you don’t even belong in the same sentence. You still don’t get it, do you?”

Get why he has a thing for me? No, not really.

“I know you think it’s strange because it was such a long time ago, and I’m not sure you’ve ever known what it feels like to be on the outside. But I’m not lying when I say in the six months I went to that school, you were the only person I recall who showed me an ounce of kindness. You don’t think that left an impression on me?”

There’s frustration in his voice, as if I will never fully understand, and I’m so exhausted from all the hurling that all I do is pitifully stare back at him. He leans forward and lays the rag on my forehead. “You okay now? Do you think you might be able to keep the antibiotic down if I bring one to you?”

“I’ll try.”

He returns with a capsule and I swallow it before gulping down the water. I must already be feeling the fluid loss because I’m suddenly very thirsty.

“Ah!” Kiran grabs the bottle from my hand. “Sipping only. I mean it. Unless you want your stomach to reject all that water you’re forcing on it.” He stands up and puts his hands on his hips. “I’ll call Nisha and tell her we won’t be able to make dinner tonight.”

“You go. There’s no reason for you to miss it just because I’m sick.”

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself like this.”

“I’ll be fine. Really. I’m already starting to feel a little better. I think I might be emptied out.”

Kiran shakes his head and smiles. “I admire your optimism, but I don’t think your intimate relationship with the toilet is over yet.”

I roll my eyes with embarrassment. “Okay, maybe it isn’t, which is all the more reason I don’t want you here! I’ll call or message if I need you.”

He sits down beside me and gently rubs the top of my head. “Are you sure?”

I nod in response.

After Kiran leaves, I take the opportunity to FaceTime the kids. At least now I won’t be waking them so early. This time I call Hayden, and he picks up on my first try.

“Hey, Mom! How’s it goin’?”

“Ugh! Not so good. I’m sick, and it’s coming out both ends.”

Hayden starts cracking up. It’s good to hear his laugh. “Noooo! Did you drink the water?”

“No! I’ve been totally good. It’s just wrong.”

“Nothing like a little Montezuma’s Revenge to kill the romance, eh?”

I cover my eyes and chuckle. “Ahhh, you aren’t kidding. Where’s Carly?”

“She’s already in the shower.”

“How are things going over there? Is David still hounding her?”

He walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door. “I don’t know,” he says, lowering his voice. “If he is, she probably wouldn’t say anything to me now. Have you talked to him?”

“No,” I sigh. “How are classes going? How’s Tessa?”

“School’s good.” He nods.

“And Tessa?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeeeah... That didn’t work out.”

“What happened?”

“She went for an engineering major.” He shrugs.

“Oh. Sorry, sweetie. That sucks.”

“It’s all good,” he says with a forced smile. “Plenty of fish, right?”

“For you?” I smirk. “Absolutely!”

“Look, I gotta hit the shower myself, so I’m gonna have to let you go.”

“Okay. Tell Carly I called. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

“And Hayden? I’m sorry about Tessa.”

He scrunches his face. “No worries.”

I hang up, and I’m hit with another bathroom emergency. I guess Kiran was right.

***

After passing out in bed for about an hour, I pick up my phone, navigate to David’s last message, and finally send a response.

I’m not trying to be mean. I just don’t know what else to say.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Expecting Kiran, I’m surprised when Nisha opens the door and I sit up. “Hi.”

“Is it okay if I come in?” she asks, holding a bowl with a lid on it.

“Sure.”

“Kiran told us how sick you are. Are you feeling any better? I brought some chicken broth, if you want to try to eat something.”

“Oh, that’s so thoughtful.”

She sets it on the nightstand. “I didn’t think you would be up for curry,” she says with a laugh.

“No, probably not.”

There are no chairs in the small room, so she motions to the side of my bed. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Nisha is dressed elegantly in an emerald blouse, wearing the scarf I gave her. She puts her hand on the covers where my leg is. “I want to apologize for what I said to you yesterday. Kiran told me I upset you.”

I rub my eyes and shake my head. “No. I didn’t want Kiran to say anything. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“He’s right. It wasn’t my place to interfere. It’s just that...” Her large almond-shaped eyes seek mine. “I was never able to have children. Kiran is my brother’s only child, and he is like my own. You understand?”

Not that Hayden has gone through the same emotional hardships as Kiran, but I can’t help but think about my conversation with him earlier. “I absolutely understand. The thought of some girl breaking my son’s heart doesn’t sit well with me, either.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply bad intentions on your part.”

“No, it’s fine.”

She smiles and nods. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your rest. Would you like me to get you a spoon for the broth?”

“I can sip it. And Nisha?” She’s halfway to my door when she turns and stops. “Thank you for coming.”

Twenty-Six

After Nisha leaves, I stand under a hot shower and wash my hair. Feeling refreshed, but still weak, I bring my laptop to bed with me to go on Facebook for a little while, and post some of the photos I’ve taken. I haven’t talked with Luke or Julia at all since I arrived, so I send each of them a private message, letting them know how things are going. I scroll down the newsfeed to look through the status updates, clicking “like” on the occasional baby photo or funny postcard, when it dawns on me I’m still friends with David.

He never unfriended me when we split, so I left it alone, too. But now he’s going to see those photos, and he’s probably going to feel like I’m rubbing this trip in his face. Damn it! I should have filtered the pics so they wouldn’t show in his newsfeed.

I consider taking them down, but I’ve already gotten a few likes and comments on some of the pictures. I could delete them and repost. Then the notification pops up. David likes the album.

Ughhhh! Anna, you’re such a jerk!

I wait a couple more minutes before logging off, hoping he won’t leave a comment. A few others come in, but none from David.

***

I don’t remember what time I fell asleep last night, but I’m quite happy to discover that Kiran chose to sleep with me, instead of in his room. I’m surprised, given that I’m disgustingly sick, but happy nonetheless. I smile when he begins to stir.

He stretches, then puts his hand to my forehead.

“Am I hot?” I ask. “I don’t remember feeling feverish.”

“No, you’re cool.” He moves his hand to my cheek. “You were a little warm last night, though, and you kept tossing and turning, like you were uncomfortable.”

Now that I think about it, I do remember nausea interrupting my sleep.

“Are you feeling any better?”

I look up, taking a moment to decide. “I think so. The cramping and nausea are gone.”

“Good,” he says as he climbs out of bed, wearing nothing but boxers. “You should still take it easy today. I’ll go get you another antibiotic.”

I stare at his broad shoulders and nice butt as he leaves for the kitchen.

I still cannot believe this is my life. I have clearly stepped into some parallel, Harlequin universe. The guy is just too perfect. I mean, I realize most everyone is in the beginning, but Kiran takes perfection to a whole new level. I think I’d actually feel a little better if he popped off about something every once in a while.

We spend most of the afternoon with Dadi and Nisha, and Dadi seems stronger and a bit more alert today. She asks me all kinds of questions about my impressions of the tour on the Ganges.

Since this morning, there’s been something different about Kiran, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s almost like he’s agitated. I tell myself it’s probably in my mind, because after all, how do I even know what an agitated Kiran looks like?

When William returns from work, Nisha makes Tandoori chicken for dinner. I know it’s safe to eat something prepared by her, but I’m afraid some of the spices might upset my recovering stomach, so I decide to eat a bit of rice.

“I really want to try the chicken. It looks delicious, but I think I better play it safe,” I say as we are all seated at their dining table.

“I’ll send some of it back with you,” Nisha offers. “Maybe you’ll feel well enough to try it tomorrow.”

Kiran and William drink several beers over the course of the evening, and Kiran becomes increasingly informal, at least for him. He takes several opportunities to rub my back, my thigh. He’s even pretty touchy feely later with Nisha, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she rinses dishes at the sink.

I smile and raise my eyebrows at her as I help clear the table.

“Kiran, honey, I believe you’ve had a few too many beers,” Nisha says.

He laughs and gives her a squeeze. “I’m just happy to see my family.”

Not that he isn’t allowed to get a little sloshed from time to time like the rest of us, but there’s a hint of unrest in his mannerisms. It seems that whenever I make eye contact with him, he quickly looks away. And that’s not him.

At the end of the evening, we all exchange hugs good night, and Kiran and I thank Nisha for dinner.

We don’t say much when we get into the elevator. He leans up against the wall and gives me a quiet smile.

“That was fun with your family. I had a nice time.”

“Yes, it was fun.” He nods.

We enter the apartment and I put the leftover chicken in the refrigerator while Kiran lingers by the front door. “Anna, I need to talk to you about something.”

A knot forms in my stomach. “I know. I could tell something’s been bothering you all day.”

He motions toward the living room, asking me to sit, and I’m getting a serious panic attack, wondering what this is about. We sit side by side on the sofa, and he leans back and swipes his hands over his face, clearly apprehensive about whatever he’s about to say.

“What’s wrong?” Are we breaking up already?

He still won’t look at me as he shakes his head. “I fucked up.”

I do a double-take. “Okay, you’re really starting to freak me out. I know you’ve had a few drinks, but you don’t drop the F-bomb.
I
do.”

That doesn’t get a laugh, or even a smile. Nothing. He props his elbow on the arm of the sofa and leans his head on his hand.

I rub his leg. “C’mon. Just tell me.”

Finally, he looks at me, his eyes troubled. “Last night, while you were sleeping, your phone alerted a new message.”

I squish my eyebrows together. “Okay...” I’m trying to figure out where he’s going with this, and suddenly I get this awful fear that something is wrong with one of the kids, and he never told me. “Are Carly and Hayden okay?”

Confusion blankets his face before he responds. “Oh, no! I mean, yes. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

He’s even more distraught and buries his face in his hands. “The message was from David. I read your message from David.”

Now I’m the one that’s confused. Confused by his distress. Confused about this message. “I never saw a new message.”

“That’s right. Because I already read it!”

I’ll admit, I’m surprised he read my text, but I’m trying to sort out why he’s so upset. “Do I still have it? What did it say?” I walk to the kitchen bar to get my phone and then come back.

I’ve already navigated to the message by the time I sit down.

When this thing ends with Mr. GQ, and it will, I’ll be waiting.

With my phone still in my hand, I look up at him. “This is what’s got you so worked up? Kiran, you said yourself, he doesn’t know what he wants. Even if he did, I don’t love him anymore, at least, not in the way you’re thinking.”

He stands up and begins to pace. “You shouldn’t even be explaining any of this to me. I tell you I’m a grown man, and then turn around and act like an adolescent by invading your privacy, reading your messages.” He stops moving about, crosses his arms, and exhales. “Even though you told me he’s been texting you, when I saw it was from him, I just...”

“Just what?”

His eyes meet mine. “I was trying to prepare myself.”

My God. I just feel sick. What can I even do or say that will penetrate the years of hurt and disappointment this guy has endured? Nothing. So what do I do? Nothing. Except gaze back at him and hope that my feelings show on my face.

“So...” His pacing resumes. “I understand you’ll want to call it quits. I’ve betrayed your trust.”

“What?” I push myself up from the sofa. “You thought this was going to be a deal breaker? So, it wasn’t
what
he said, but the fact that you read it, that’s upsetting you?”

He briefly looks at me before lowering his eyes. “It was a combination of both.”

“Holy crap! My kids look at my texts all the time without permission,” I say and raise my arms. “I mean, am I surprised that you felt the need to do that? Yeah. But I don’t give a shit.”

I place my palm on my chest and continue in a softer tone. “I don’t have anything to hide. I’m not keeping anything from you. It just makes me really sad that you thought because you read one of my texts in a moment of doubt, that I’d be done.”

He stands in place, his arms still folded over his chest. “The last thing you need or want is some possessive man who invades your privacy.”

“You’re right.” I slowly walk toward him. “I don’t want that. But that’s not who you are. You’re not possessive. You’ve just been kicked around a few times, and you’re trying to brace yourself for the next ten car pileup.”

His eyes moist, he blinks, looking past me. He still hasn’t moved, his crossed arms keeping him closed off.

“I’m actually a little relieved.” I hook my fingers in his jeans pockets. “I was starting to worry you were perfect, and I don’t need you to be perfect. I’m sure as hell not.”

He breathes in deep through his nose and swallows hard. Finally, he meets my gaze.

“C’mon,” I say. “Are we okay?”

He continues to stare at me, worry in his eyes. How can someone who so easily sees worth in me, someone he’s known for such a short time, not see any in himself? I guess this is where that repair work comes in.

“God, Anna,” he sighs. “I just don’t want you to think you’ve replaced one screwed up guy for another. I
am
jaded. You know this ‘together’ persona of mine, it’s all an act, right?”

“Um...
yeah
,” I answer in a humorous tone. “I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck.”

His lips finally curve into a smile as he cups my face in his hands. “You make me laugh.” He pauses, and tenderly brushes his mouth against mine. Then he looks at me as if he wants to say more.

“What?”

“David
will
hurt you again,” he says soberly. “I won’t.”

Ah, he’s such an optimist. Kiran, of all people, should know that hurt is inevitable when you love. Luke hurt me like no other, when I know he would have given anything to prevent it.

But now’s not the time for that discussion.