What Kartik had said about loneliness, about the need for a deep companionship, she knew all too well: the stillness, the stasis one carried within, untouched by the kinetic city and its seductions. Even with Vinay, the good days—there had been more than a few of those—had felt like warm bliss. She missed that. This was hard to hope for with friends, and it became harder each year as all the competing claims multiplied: marriage, children, family, career. She wanted somebody to whom she could say, we are in this together.
