Page 143 of One Indian Girl
‘But how did you get a room?’ I said. I wanted to scream at the lobby manager.
‘I took the presidential suite. That’s all they had. Now can you come there? Room 101?’
Of course, MrPartner had to be in the presidential suite. My cousins waved, gesturing me to come back.
‘I need to have breakfast with my cousins. See you in thirty minutes,’ I said.
‘You said you would leave me alone,’ I said as he opened the door. I entered his lavish 3,000-square-feet presidential suite. I sat on one of the sofas in the suite living room. He didn’t respond. He went to the electric kettle at the corner of the room and filled it with water.
‘Tea?’ he said.
‘Neel! I don’t have time. You said you wouldn’t bother me.’
‘I cut off for a year. Did I ever bother you in London?’ he said. ‘Would you like some green tea?’
‘What is it you wanted to tell me?’ I said.
‘Can you relax?’ Neel said. ‘How about a “Hey, how have you been?”’
‘Neel,’ I said. ‘I don’t have time for pleasantries.’
‘I am just making conversation. Am I allowed to do that while I make a cup of tea?’
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘We haven’t caught up in a year. How was London? You know I grew up there, right?’
‘I do.’
‘So how was it?’
I just kept looking at him.
‘What?’
‘I am not here to talk about London.’
‘Give me a minute. I need to bring something from the other room.’
I nodded. He went into the bedroom. I looked out of the window. The sea was silent behind the double-glazed glass. Neel’s mention of London brought back many memories of my move there.
London
One Year Ago
33
The Goldman Sachs office in London is located on 133 Fleet Street. The office at Peterborough Court is at the same site as the oldDaily Telegraphbuilding. Patricia, the group secretary, settled me into my new cubicle. The British accent in the London office reminded me of Neel. When you break up, it becomes a habit to remember everything about the man—with my second heartbreak I had learnt this much. Neel was a habit, a bad habit rather, almost an addiction. Like smoking, when you know it is bad for you but you can’t seem to leave it. I also learnt that you don’t get better at handling heartbreaks. They suck every single time, even though this time was marginally better since I had initiated the break-up. I battled the urge to email him, telling him I had arrived at the new place.
Why couldn’t he email me? Why couldn’t he call? Well, how could he? I had threatened to expose him.
I missed his voice. I missed his eyes. I missed his touch. I missed all that he did to me, with me, in bed.So what if he is married? He loves me, and love is what I need, right?
See, this is how your mind plays games with you. If it wants you to do something, it will find a hundred reasons to justify it. What’s more, the reasons will even make sense. I picked up the internal phone on my desk to call Neel.
The buzz on my cellphone disrupted my thoughts. In the past few months my mother had discovered WhatsApp. She had sent me a message.
‘Checked profile?’
