“Prem,” she said with a sigh. She was about to toss the article when a highlighted line drew her attention to the second page.
“The physical pain we feel from loss, the damaging effects on the heart, may be linked to an illusion that we call love, but that doesn’t make love any less real. Regardless of how the subjects find each other, whether through a cultural practice such as arranged marriages, or through childhood friendship turned life partners, studies show that feelings of love can grow stronger and affect other parts of the brain as well.”
She stared at the line for a long moment, rereading it a dozen times over.
“Damn,” she whispered. This man played dirty.
She began to tuck the documents back in the envelope when a small slip of paper fell out. She turned it over to read the simple block letters on the front.
I’m sorry I couldn’t say the words. But I’ll tell you them as often as you want to hear them if you’ll let me be in your life. This is my grand gesture. Does it work for you?
Kareena began to sniffle. She took the note and tucked it into her bag next to her mother’s note she’d found in the kitchen. After inspecting her beautiful pride and joy, she got in behind the wheel. She’d have to examine the buttery leather seats, the beautiful trim, and the finishing work under the hood some other time. Right now, she had to come up with a game plan. Prem could’ve brought the note to her himself, but he’d always made the first move. He was letting her decide now, and she had to respect him for that.
She had to go see Bobbi and Veera. Her besties would know exactly what to do.
And maybe she’d pick up some Taco Bell along the way.
Kareena turned the keys in the ignition, and the purr of the engine boosted her spirits. It was time to secure her happily ever after.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Prem
Prem checked his phone again for missed messages. Nothing. Dave at the mechanic’s shop said that she’d gotten her car, but Kareena still hadn’t reached out.
Was he too late?
“Prem?” his producer said from the other side of his dressing room door. “You have a full audience today. You ready?”
“Yeah, coming.”
He straightened his jacket, glanced in the mirror to smooth his hair, and went to do his last Dr. Dil Show. The set was decorated with marigolds and twinkle lights like an Indian wedding. Sometimes Prem forgot that his channel was on a South Asian TV network, and they would do things like hang garlands and lights on the stage backdrop.
His producer gave him the one-minute warning, and he positioned himself at stage left, mentally running through his notes.
“I hope you’re watching, Rina,” he murmured.
The lights went up, his producer called his name, and he stepped out into the spotlight. He straightened his cuff link and took a deep breath.
“Hello everyone, and welcome to The Dr. Dil Show!”
There were cheers, and clapping, and most importantly, there were a lot of people. The entire studio seemed to be so packed that Prem was barely able to make out individual faces in the crowd. And they were all here to see the series finale. Or watch him eat his words.
He started with his tagline. Holistic health of the heart, my ass, he thought.
“Now before we begin, I wanted to start with some bittersweet news. I have been doing The Dr. Dil Show for a few years now, and it has been absolutely incredible. I started it after the death of my fiancée as a way to raise awareness—and frankly, attention—from investors for a community health center I wanted to build right here in Jersey City. Well, that dream is finally coming to fruition. Thanks to a few amazing investors, we have secured a location downtown that will be dedicated to supporting the South Asian immigrant populations in the tristate area.”
The crowd cheered and clapped appropriately.
“Unfortunately, that also means that today is my last show.”
Pin-drop silence.
“Going forward, I will be focusing on patients and building my community health practice. I appreciate all of you who have followed along over the years, and who have written to the show about parents, family members, and your own health. It makes every moment I’m here on the stage worthwhile.”
The studio audience cheered. This time the noise was a roar, and as the sound washed over him, Prem looked up and smiled.
Thanks, Gori.
When the clapping slowed, Prem continued. “As my final show, I wanted it to be special, but I didn’t know how much. I have my boss, the chief of the Jersey City Cardiology Center, here to talk about how you can finish the year taking care of your most important body part. I have Swami Talish here to discuss how we can stay focused in the present through meditation.”