I heard him sigh and could envision the serious look on his face. His small dimples hidden because they only revealed themselves when he smiled.
“Pree, I’m sorry to hear that, and I hope they’re okay.”
“Me too.”
“Is there something you need me to do?”
It was nice that he still cared. I was glad I’d ignored Carrie’s advice and called him. Maybe he and I had been wrong, and we were strong enough to be friends.
“I’m not sure there’s much that can be done, but thanks. I’ll have to see what the situation is like when I get there.” I glanced at the young family sitting in the seats across from me. The mother was leaning over, rifling through a carry-on bag, trying to locate something for her toddler while her husband casually rubbed her back. They had the familiarity of two people who knew the other was there without having to acknowledge each other. I missed that.
“It’s really good to hear your voice.” I closed my eyes and whispered into the phone.
He was silent, and I wished I knew what he was thinking.
“Sheep? You there?” I asked.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, Monkey, I’m here.”
I smiled at hearing him use our pet names too.
After a few moments, he said, “I guess it’s stupid, but I thought you were calling from the airport because you were coming to New York.”
I wished I could be that spontaneous girl he believed I was. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have realized how that would look.”
“Pree, it took me a long time to get used to not seeing and talking to you every day.”
“I know.”
“We were together for a long time. You know I care for you and your family.” He sighed, and I could hear the conflict in his voice. “But the only way we can move on is if we let each other go. I think we were right when we said it was too early for us to be friends. I care too much to be the person you lean on now that we’re not together.”
My eyes misted. I’d tried desperately to convince Alex that we could make long distance work. I was certain we could make the best of any situation. But he had known he would not be happy with flying back and forth across the country every other weekend. He’d tried it with a past girlfriend and seen so many of his colleagues try that and knew it usually ended with someone feeling alienated and alone. He didn’t want us to drag things out like that. His feelings hadn’t changed since we’d been apart.
“You’re right.” I choked out the words. “I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you. I just didn’t know who else to call.”
“Maybe Carrie can be that person for you now.”
I knew he was trying to be helpful, to solve a problem that needed a solution, but the words stung. There was such finality to them, but I couldn’t blame him. He’d been clear from the start that he didn’t believe in long-distance relationships.
A tear slid down my cheek, and I swatted it away, checking to see if anyone had noticed. I caught the eye of the mother sitting across from me, and she offered me a sympathetic smile. Embarrassed, I turned away from her.
“I’m sorry I called. And I hope your movie is going well. You deserve it.”
“Thanks. I don’t mean to upset you, Monk—”
“I know. It’s not you. It’s just all this stuff with Neel and Dipti. I’ll be okay, though. You’re right. I’ve got Carrie if things get rough. Bye, Alex.”
I hung up before he could say another word. He had been my first relationship and, consequently, my first breakup, and my inexperience combined with the emotional weight had left me feeling totally insecure. I’d deferred to him on what made sense when two people who’d once loved each other were letting each other go, and his choices had been no friendship, no conversations to unpack why things had fallen apart, and no continued contact. While I was generally good at putting on blinders to the world around me, having someone I had cared about so deeply exit my life so swiftly had been hard to comprehend. I’d been sure we could salvage the friendship that had underlain our romantic relationship if we just worked hard enough at it. It turned out that desire was one sided. Carrie had been right. Hearing him be so sweet, while still being firm on the decision to not even be friends, had been crushing.
When I took my seat on the crowded flight full of Indians, I could tell from the black socks with open-toed sandals and T-shirt tucked into the slacks of the man sitting next to me that, unlike me, my seatmate was actually from India—born and raised. If there was any doubt, it was erased when I sat down and breathed in the overpowering scent of Cool Water cologne. It immediately reminded me of Virag Mama. I couldn’t believe I’d be seeing him tomorrow for the first time in fifteen years.