Flirting With Disaster: A Novel

by Naina Kumar

I’ve never known anyone like Nikhil. I’ve never been known by anyone like Nikhil. I’ve never had anyone see all the broken, scared, awful parts of me and choose me anyway.

You’re it. You’re it for me. I’m here. And I’m yours. For as long as you want me.”

That his job had made him as stressed and miserable as studying for the bar had made me. That it had twisted his natural light and joyful state of being into something else. Something sadder. Something he never quite let me see.

The weight of his body, the pressure of it, had soothed my every nerve. In those moments, he quieted my mind. Made me feel blissfully at peace, with no worries about the future, no worries about anything. Even now, at night, when I’m too tired to hold the memories at bay, I can feel him. A phantomlike sensation.

“I mean, I’m sure you remember how I was after I found out about the bar.” He’s quiet for a second. “I remember it was hard. I remember there were some bad days, but mostly I remember the way you got right back up. The way you started prep again the very next week. The way you committed and the hours you put in studying. You never wavered, and I always admired that. The way you didn’t give up. I was…in awe of it, really.”

His smile had captured me, wide and beaming and…secure. Like he was sure of himself. Comfortable in his own skin. That smile, his clear and apparent joy, had sparked something within me. It’d made me greedy. I’d wanted to be on the receiving end of that smile. I’d wanted to bask in it. I’d wanted to understand that joy and be a part of it. I’d wanted more.

After dinner, he’d walked me back to my car, and I’d practically floated that night, the air hot, the sky hazy, with the occasional star peeking through. This moment…It’s crystallized in my mind. I can still feel the humidity, the way the thick, warm wind had felt against my skin. I remember the press of his palm against mine, the way our fingers intertwined as I thought, This is a beginning. This is something new.

“I needed you,” he says softly. So softly I’m not sure whether I heard him. So softly I’m not sure whether he wanted me to hear him. “I needed you,” he says again, even quieter. “And then you left.”

“Don’t leave,” he whispers. So soft I can barely hear him. “Don’t leave me again.”

“You know one of the things I first noticed about you, the thing that made you different from so many of the people I was surrounded by in law school, was that you’re comfortable not knowing something. Whenever we’d talk about things, you actually listened, and if there was something you didn’t know, you’d admit it. You’d learn more about it, and wait until then to form a conclusion and that…that’s such a gift. It’s a strength.

“What is it?” I ask. “I don’t understand…What do you want out of all this? What could you possibly—” “I want you!” His voice booms, louder than I’ve ever heard it. All the blood rushes from my head. The room tilts, everything going sideways. “I want you to stay. I want you to be with me. I want to live out everything we promised to each other. Those vows, they meant something to me, Meena. They still mean something to me. What we had…what we have…is real.”

“I figured nothing’s ever too far gone,” he says softly. “That some things are worth rebuilding. Even if it means rebuilding them from the ground up.”

“You’re my home, Meena. Out of all the places I’ve lived, I’ve only ever felt at home with you.”