“Jay, you’re going through a hard time.” She stuffed her clothes in the nearest bag, heedless of the inevitable creases. “I came here because I was worried about you, because we’re friends. It’s what I would do for anyone I care about. If I’ve led you to think it meant something else, I am so sorry.”
“Don’t go,” he said. “You don’t need to run from me. We can talk about it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you any more than you’re already hurting.” She grabbed her bag and shoved the last of her things inside.
“Zara . . .”
“I’m sorry, Jay. I made a mistake. I can’t do this anymore.”
? 25 ?
Bleary-eyed after spending the last twenty-four hours watching soul-destroying musicals, Zara had just put on Les Misérables for the second time when Parvati walked in the door after finishing her shift. “Not that again. Honestly. Aren’t there other sad musicals you can watch as you wallow in self-pity?”
“I watched them. And when I ran out of sad ones, I watched the sad scenes of the happy ones. I’ve seen West Side Story three times, so I can remind myself how ill-fated relationships are supposed to end. But Les Mis is the best. It reflects my inner angst.”
“I thought you said you and Jay didn’t have a relationship.” Parvati pulled a tub of ice cream from her shopping bag and tossed it to Zara.
“Spoon?”
“I thought your heart was broken and not your legs.” She headed for the kitchen. Parvati talked tough but she was a softie inside.
“I can’t get up when I’m in the depths of despair.” Zara collapsed back on the couch. “Why would he say that to me, Parvati? Why?”
“Because he loves you, I guess. That’s what people say when they fall in love.”
“But he can’t love me. I made it very clear that I was unlovable and that I couldn’t love him back. Everyone else has followed the rules. Why couldn’t he?”
“Hmmm.” Parvati tapped a spoon to her lips. “Could it be . . . ? Perhaps it’s because . . . I think . . .”
“He loves me,” Zara said with a dejected sigh.
“Bingo.” Parvati joined her on the couch and handed her the spoon. “It’s not something people can control.”
“But why?” she moaned. “I was looking for his perfect match. And then we got a bit distracted by our sexual chemistry. But we both understood that it wasn’t going to last forever. Nothing lasts forever. He would have gotten tired of having sexy times in all sorts of different places, and I would have gotten bored of having multiple orgasms, and we would have gone our separate ways.”
“Except it wasn’t just about sex.” Parvati pulled the lid off a second ice cream container. “You had fun together. He went to see you rehearse because it’s what you love to do. He took you to the City Club knowing that you’d go crazy when you saw Lin-Manuel Miranda. You—and I still can’t believe this—went on a hike because it made him happy. That give-and-take is called . . . wait for it . . . a relationship.”
“It’s a disaster.” Zara popped open her container. “He’s emotionally vulnerable. His mom is in the hospital. He has PTSD. This is not the right time for him to fall in love.” Her breath caught when an idea occurred to her. “Maybe he isn’t really in love. It’s just his illness talking. He thinks he loves me because he needs a connection, but now that I’m gone, he’ll realize it wasn’t real and we can go back to things the way they were. I should probably start looking for matches for him. I did promise to find him someone by the end of the season.”
“I’m pretty sure that despite the fact he’s not in a good place right now, his feelings for you are real,” Parvati said. “His eyes light up when he sees you. When we were hiking, all he cared about was showing you the waterfalls and the flowers and the damn birds and plants. If Faroz hadn’t kept pulling me into bushes and behind trees for hot forest sex, I would have been bored out of my mind. Jay wanted to share his joy with you. He wanted you to be happy. Do you know what Faroz said?”
“If you tell me, will you have to kill me?”
Parvati laughed. “He told me a long story about some CIA spies who met at Quantico but could never be together because they were always sent to different parts of the world. But every time they crossed paths, they realized their feelings hadn’t changed. Finally, they quit the agency and got married. Of course, it ended badly as all Faroz’s stories do. Some Russian agent found them and slit their throats while they were sleeping. But they died together. That’s the point.”