TWENTY-THREE Ravi

TWENTY-THREE

Ravi

What was the point in inviting her to dinner?" Ravi shouted. "To embarrass her in front of everyone?" He had to know before he went after Jessie.

"You actually think this is about her?" Arjun asked. "Dude, this is about you, and your ridiculous plans to get a graduate degree in English."

Ravi looked at his brother, fisting his hands at his sides. "You're so desperate to be just like Dad, Arjun. How's that going for you? Last article I read, your start-up was having a hard time getting funding because it lacked originality."

Arjun rushed to his feet. "Fuck you, Ravi. At least I'm doing something meaningful with my life."

Ravi stood to face him, hands flat on the table. "Is that what you want to call it?"

"Sit down," Ravi's father snapped. He motioned to the empty, private room. "You're making a scene in public."

"I'm going after Jessie," Ravi said. He leaned across the table so that he faced his parents. "Dada came to this country so that he could make a better life for our family. He did what he had to do so that we could all be successful. He would've wanted us to have a choice. Because that's what he fought for."

"You're right," his father said, his voice razor-sharp. "Your dada made sacrifices, and it's time you learn that you have to make sacrifices, too. Do you think we're asking you to consider an internship because of us? No, this is about what's best for you, Ravi. Because what are you going to do in twenty years with your English degree? With your little writing projects? You'll have no one and nothing."

The words cut across his soul, and he felt himself sinking back in his seat, making himself small, the way he used to when he was young.

"Can we please stop talking about this for now?" Ravi's mother pleaded. "Ravi, we're so sorry that your girlfriend is upset, but we came all this way to see you. The least you can do is just finish the meal with us. I promise we won't mention the internship again. Just stay."

He could hear the tension, the panic in her voice, and he hated that she was always trying so desperately to be the peacemaker. He could see the same panic on Arjun's girlfriend's face. She would become the same kind of peacemaker that his mother had become.

Just as he was about to text Jessie to ask if she was okay, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

SAHDNA: I ran into Jessie in the parking lot. I'm going to drive her back to her dorm before I join you for dinner. I thought you knew, but your parents invited me. I'm going to be there out of obligation, but if you can think of an excuse, I'm happy to bow out.

All thoughts of staying, of trying to repair the fissures in his relationship with his family, disintegrated. "Did you invite Sahdna?" he asked, cutting his mother off from her nervous rambling about a family friend's upcoming wedding.

"We haven't seen her in a long time," his mother said. "We thought it would be a good idea to see her—"

"At the same time that I was bringing my girlfriend to meet you?" he asked.

"Watch your tone," his father snapped. Then he switched to Hindi, which he rarely spoke anymore. "That's your mother you're talking to."

"Did you learn that little parenting line from your all-White executive leadership board? Did they also teach you how to ignore your family?"

"Ravi!" the table shouted at him unanimously.

Maybe some relationships were bound to fail from the beginning, Ravi thought. He had to start focusing on the people that he knew would accept him for who he was and who he wanted to become.

He stood from the table. "Thanks for coming to Jersey," he said quietly. "Happy Diwali and Happy Thanksgiving." Then he walked out of the restaurant to look for his girlfriend.

Ravi took a deep breath and knocked. There was a pause, a sniffle, and then the sound of bedsprings squeaking before the door opened a crack.

Jessie's bloodshot eyes widened, then she pulled open the door all the way. It was the first time he'd been to her dorm room. He'd managed to get into the freshman towers because someone had held open the door when they recognized who he was.

There were two single beds on opposite sides of the room. Tanvi's side was purple and pink, with posters and string lights, while Jessie's was decorated simply, with a plain floral bedspread, books stacked on her bedside table, and a desk at the foot of her bed. He looked down at her, standing at the entrance to her room.

"What are you doing here? Your parents. Dinner ..."

"Baby, I'm so sorry," he said hoarsely.

He stepped inside the room, then froze. His heart took a dive to his stomach. Strewn across her bed, in no particular order, were all of Divya Das's letters.

All of them. Including the ten that they were supposed to open the following week. Jessie had gone ahead and read everything on her own instead of waiting for him to share the moment. Not that he could blame her. He should've followed her out of the restaurant, but he'd stayed, even if only for a brief amount of time. It was probably enough to convince her that he wasn't serious about their relationship. Ravi cleared his throat, then turned to her. He saw the guilt written across her face.

"What did they say?"

"What?"

"What do the letters say?" He crossed the small room to her bed and picked up one of the pages before waving it gently like a fan. "Did you find anything else in here that would lead us to believe that they're still together somewhere, living their happily ever after?"

Please be together. I need something to believe in.

Jessie's eyes welled with tears. "Y-yes, I know what happened."

"Well?" he said, his heart breaking all over again. "What do the letters say?" He didn't mean to raise his voice, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop.

"Ravi ... they broke up."

Of all the things he expected her to tell him, that was not it. In theory, he knew that was a possibility for Divya and Christian. Reality was a cruel bitch sometimes, and people had tragic lives. But somewhere along the way, he'd started to hope for a different kind of ending. He stumbled back and hit the side of her bed frame. "W-what?"

Jessie nodded. "I read the last letter. She broke up with him. She said that she wasn't going to be responsible for his sadness. For how much he'd resent her for leaving his family. And she said that she planned on going through with the arranged marriage in India. She wished him well."

"No," Ravi said. He'd started shaking his head before she even finished. "No, I don't believe it. I can't believe it. They fought so hard to keep their relationship a secret, they fell so deeply in love that both of us fell, too—"

"Don't say that," she rushed. Her tears fell freely now. "Don't even think it."

He reached for her, but she stumbled back. "I can't," he said, feeling the tears well in his own eyes. "I can't not think about how much I love you and how much I would give up to be with you, too."

Jessie pressed a letter against her chest so hard that the paper began to crease. "Divya is right, Ravi. Life is not all hearts and candy. It's not about love notes in beautiful libraries. Sometimes life is about responsibility to those who helped us get where we are. It's about putting our families before ourselves. We're going to be totally fine. I mean, we are so privileged, you and I. We'll get through the rest of the semester then stay clear of each other. This is just a blip in our lives and we'll move on and remember each other like any other relationship. But we will be better if we aren't together."

He couldn't breathe. "You don't mean that."

"I can't explain their disappearance," Jessie continued as she wiped her nose on the back of her pajama sleeves. "But if I were to guess, I'd say both of them pulled out of school that day, and people decided they'd prefer to imagine they ran off together. But that love story isn't real and, Ravi, neither is ours."

He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, and crashed his lips down onto hers. He was unyielding, taking everything he could from her the same way she'd robbed him of happiness. Maybe one day he'd realize that he could move on and he'd find happiness with someone else, but right now, and in his heart, he knew he'd never be the same. So he'd take this kiss, the soft give of her mouth. He'd remember the pressure of her hands as she fisted the back of his shirt and how she tried to get impossibly closer to his body. He'd remember her love and the understanding in her eyes and the way her laugh sounded in the dark.

When the pain was too much, he pulled away. They were both gasping for air, tears pouring down their cheeks. They cried for the love that ended fifty years ago and for the love that they were giving up right now, so young and sudden.

"It'll be hard to see you on campus," she said quietly, "but it's better this way."

"I have to go," Ravi said as he wiped his tears. "I love you and probably always will, but right now, I have to go." He took the letter that was crumpled in her hands, pressed one final kiss against the corner of her mouth, then left.