Page 29 of Always? Forever.
Kartik opened the door and peeked inside. I looked at him dead in the eye, daring him to say anything. He looked likehe was stifling a laugh. Clearing his throat he said, “Did the clothes God throw up in here? What are you doing?”
I glared at him and that’s when my waterworks started. I was PMS-ing and my crying was a sign that my periods were only days away. But he didn’t know that, I think he freaked out because I hadn’t cried in front of him…until now.
“Woah, what just happened?” He said looking scared.
“I can’t find anything appropriate to wear, I have never met a guy’s parents, let alone a prospective fiance’s parents.” I said.
Kartik
She had started crying and I had no idea what to do. When I asked what happened, the way she replied didn’t help the urge I was feeling to gather her into my arms and hold her close. The thing that had her sobbing like a child was not finding an outfit, which was just bizarre because she managed to look great in any outfit. I sat down next to her, in the middle of the pile of clothes surrounding the floor. She had a lot of clothes.
I looked around to find something and that’s when I spotted a nice pink t-shirt that would look great on her. “What about that?” I asked, gesturing to it.
She turned her head in the direction I was pointing at and grabbed. She turned back to me, looked like it was the most boring idea and just sighed.
“Look, you don’t have to dress fancy, you aren't a snob, neither are my parents. You just need to be you. We are just over to the house, it’s just dinner. I mean what would you wear if you were meeting your friend's parents?” I tried to reason.
“Just a top and jeans.” she answered quietly, sobs dying down.
I stood up and walked to the door. “Exactly. Now go change. I don’t like waiting.”
I smirked, fully expecting a reaction.
A pillow flew at me before I even made it out. Laughing, I ducked and pulled the door shut behind me.
Ten minutes passed. I looked up when I heard the door click open.
There she was wearing the t-shirt I picked and a pair of jeans like they were made for her.
She looked beautiful in that quiet, unintentional way that knocked the air out of your lungs when you weren’t ready for it.
And somehow, it was always when you weren’t ready.
Samaira
When I entered the living room, he said nothing. But his eyes, they said everything. He was checking me out. Smirking, I said, “If you are done checking me out, we should leave, I don’t like being late.”
“Huh, what…yeah yeah lets go.” He said in a daze as he walked out of my apartment. He had his driver come with his car and leave it.
The ride to his parents house was silent. They lived in the West Village. It was a brownstone house. I was just as mesmerized with it as I was with Kartik’s house.
“You didn’t tell me your parents lived in a townhouse. My entire apartment looks like IKEA sneezed on it,” I muttered under her breath as we rang the bell.
“Don’t let her offer you juice. It’s always bitter gourd or some trauma-inducing concoction,” Kartik warned me.
The door flung open. And there stood my boss with her husband. “Samaira, sweetheart you look beautiful, come on in" his mom beamed, pulling me into a hug before I could decide if she was a hugger.
“We’ve heardsomuch about you.” His dad said with a smile as bright as daylight.
Kartik groaned behind us. “That’s my cue to pretend I’m adopted.”
Chapter 23
Samaira
I was surprised. His parents were just like him. Charming, funny, and optimistic. It made sense. He made sense. We sat in the living room as his mom got us water. I held on to that glass for dear life. It was then I remembered I had gotten something for his parents. His mother had wandered back to the kitchen to get some snacks.
I stood up, grabbed the bag of gift and stepped in the kitchen, palms slightly clammy, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it did whenever Kartik stood too close or too far. His mother shot me a smile, the kind of smile that felt welcoming.
