The Trouble with Hating You

by Sajni Patel

My heart beat against my chest, and not in an insta-crush way. It beat the way it had when I came dangerously close to getting a less-than-perfect grade. It beat as if I were in trouble, as if I had gotten caught doing something bad.

My anger surged just remembering Ma’s teary eyes and embarrassment, her cheeks pink and burning. With all that she’d been through with Dad dying, I couldn’t stand that she’d been brought to tears by some stranger.

Even if she was the way you remember her, it doesn’t mean she still is. Or that we should judge her.

“Please get him out of here,” Liya said, although I couldn’t tell which one of us she spoke to.

Kokila Auntie had a soft, sweet demeanor that made me regret how I’d handled the entire situation by running out on her.

“I wonder if Ravi had tried to date her and she slammed his face into a wall.”

Pranad Uncle’s hopeful eyes narrowed just a little, and I knew my telltale flickers of unamused honesty peeked through.

My heart truly ached for him. Such an outstanding man with such a difficult daughter.

The mint leaf on the side added a nice pop, and I wondered if I could find a blouse in that color.

“Do you mind if I taste your dessert? It’s so pretty.” He paused in mid-bite, as if my request meant that he might lose his soul if anything went wrong.

He held my hand for only a second before moving to my lower back. He hadn’t opened the door for me all night, not when I climbed into his car, not when we arrived, not when we entered the restaurant, and not now when we walked out.

He had broad shoulders and a wide back that tapered at his waist. When he reached up to draw a line over the top of his words, his suit jacket arched up and tugged against a very nice backside. I bit my lower lip and glared at the notes on my tablet. What was I doing?

I supposed there was no such thing as a stress-free life, no matter my education, career path, position, or pay. There was always one thing or another, but sometimes it was a wonder that I hadn’t given up by now.

The second was as idiotic as Mike, apparently, since he stayed in the lobby, looking like he wanted to know everything that was about to happen.

“There’s got to be something with those Indian chicks.”

He must’ve passed away recently for a grown man to shut down after one mention. Especially when Jay seemed as upset as he was saddened.

Momma’s many pictures sent via WhatsApp.

Me: Are we about to get into a texting argument? Jay: Only if you’re bored and want to spend the evening arguing with me. Damn it. Why was I smiling?

Me: I thought you were some jackass. Jay: Because of traditionally approaching you…or…? Me: That and smiling at me. Jay: I sort of figured. And noted. Never smile at Liya Thakkar. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to conjure up some witty remark. But nothing came to me. All I knew was that I never wanted Jay to hide his smile from me.

pushing my limits so I could feel the burn sear through my arms.

Not to mention it reminded me that I didn’t deserve a happy ending with a wife and kids of my own. Not when I took Dad’s happy ending from him.

Dad wanted us to live our best lives, be happy.

Was being happy a way to honor Dad?

She paused. “You could’ve just said I had something on my face.” “And miss a chance to touch your lips? Have you lost your mind?” She laughed my comment off like it was a joke.

I could strive for anything in the world and get it…except this.

“Are you certain?” He placed a hand against the wall, beside my head, and tilted his face closer to mine.

Liya wasn’t the only one taking a risk. I hadn’t accepted that I deserved a happy ending, and going for one felt a little lost on me.

“Then let’s call it a night.” Why did I say that? I wanted his hand around mine. I wanted to walk into the sunset. I wanted to watch the fireflies and wander around the park until it was too dark to see, too dark for him to notice me shivering every time he touched me.

“He’s perfect on paper, but we don’t have a connection.” She slumped a little. “Is that really important?” “Yes,” Reema and I said together, while Sana answered, “No.” We looked to her as she explained, “Connections can be made later. Love can come later. And anyway, both things can fade. His other traits won’t fade, or at least not easily or soon.”

beta?”

Despite how much we fought, my body always responded to her.

I was never meant to have someone this good, this decent. It would eventually end, and that would end me.

“Oh. Maybe. Do you want me there?” “Of course I do.” “Okay.”

“Want some advice?” she asked. “Unsolicited advice is the best!” I said sarcastically with a toothy grin.

A baby in the family, a new life, joy with endless potential, and I had the privilege of being a part of this day.

“Your mom’s here,” she muttered.

The baby smacked his adorable little mouth, looking for a boob.

Jay stretched his arm over the top of the back and rubbed my opposite arm. Was this what it would feel like to hold our baby together?

I kissed his neck and tossed Mukesh the middle finger as Jay swung me around and settled me back inside the car. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Can I stay the night?” The question came out haggard, lifeless.

She locked the door behind us as we took off our shoes.

“I think about Dad all the time. He should’ve been there to see us graduate,

“Sorry, princess.” “No one’s ever called me a princess. Does that make you a prince?” “Only if you’re marrying me.” She pried open one eye, and I expected her to crawl off the bed and take my joke the wrong way. Instead, she cracked a smile and stuck out her tongue.

Jahn and I watched, sort of dumbfounded. He grinned and pushed me toward her. “Oh, hi,” Liya said when I was suddenly forced in front of her. “Glad you could make it,” I said, moving my hands behind me because suddenly I didn’t know how to greet her in front of my family.

Dad called me toward him with a crook of his finger, as if I were a child caught eating cookies before dinner.

Ghetto….

I knew he was black!

if we ever have children, they will be an extension of you, not your husband,

I paused beside Liya’s father and said, “If I even think that you’ve hurt her, I will come for you.” “She is not my daughter anymore,” he said, convinced in his beliefs. “I mean your wife.” He startled.

I don’t stand in front of you, or run after you. I walk alongside you.