by Maisey Yates
“Do you think it’s a respectable profession?”
Ethan frowned. “I think it’s a legitimate career, just like being in business. Entertainers in this country are highly valued.”
“So you’d be okay with Divya wearing skimpy clothes and dancing around a stage while drunk men ogle her.”
Ethan took a sharp breath. “That’s a stereotype of entertainers that doesn’t have to be true. Divya can do what she’s comfortable with, and I’ll support her.”
“So you’re the one who’s been encouraging Divya to pursue this crazy plan to give up her law career and become a singer,” her father said accusingly.
“He helped me understand what I wanted. He generously bought studio time so I could explore my musical abilities,” Divya interjected.
Ethan turned to her parents. “Divya has an amazing talent and deserves our support to pursue a new career.”
“Singing is a hobby. Divya, if you really want to pursue this, we can buy you all the studio time you want.” Her mother leaned forward. “You had your fun. It’s time to come back to real life.”
Divya bristled. Her parents didn’t get to decide what she wanted for her real life. “This is something I have to do for myself, Ma. I want to live my life on my terms. The way I want.”
“Just a few days with this American and you’ve forgotten your whole upbringing,” her mother muttered.
“Mrs. Singh, I respect your culture and your point of view, but Divya is an intelligent, independent woman. She has the right to make her own decisions, to choose what she wants to do with her career and whom to date.”
“And as her parents, we have the responsibility to protect her from bad influences,” her father said pointedly. “Look, Ethan, in our family, you don’t get to date our daughter. We believe in old-fashioned values. You talk about respect. A man who cares about our daughter would show more respect for her family traditions.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched.
Divya tried to catch his eye, silently telling him that now was the time to pull out the engagement ring she’d asked him to buy and ask her parents for her hand in marriage. After a heavy silence that seemed to weigh them all down, her mother turned to Ethan. “Let us get to the point of this conversation. What is your relationship with our daughter? What are your intentions toward her?”
He straightened and looked both her parents in the eyes. “I love your daughter.”
Divya breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that the romantic way to do things was to propose to the girl on bended knee, but that’s not how it was done in Indian families. Ethan knew what a big deal it was for her to introduce someone like him to her parents. They needed to see that he wasn’t a stereotype, that he held the same values her family did.
“I hope we’ll have a future together. With your permission, I’d like to keep seeing her.”
Divya glared at him. What is he doing?
“Excuse me, Mr. Connors, our daughter is not someone you try out to see if she is to your liking,” her mother said icily. “Clearly, you don’t understand or respect our family values.”
Ethan stood. Every muscle in his body was rigid, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. “Excuse me, Mrs. Singh, Divya is not your property, and she does not need to put up with this. You have no idea what we share, and I will not let you insult her like this.”
Divya jumped from her seat and looked from Ethan to her parents and back again. What are you doing, Ethan? They had talked about this very scenario, and she’d reminded him that under no circumstances could he be rude to her parents.
Ethan had done everything she’d asked him not to do. It was as if he was purposely sabotaging the whole thing. Then it hit her.
She thought back to something Rajiv had said to her in New York. Now the words haunted her.
It’s not that he’s American. It’s that he doesn’t take relationships seriously. For him this is a game, an amusement.
When he’d gotten to Pooja’s wedding, he’d realized that he had been impulsive and didn’t really want to marry her. The same thing was happening now. He’d done what he always did when things got real. He’d pulled the safety parachute.
* * *
This was the moment when he’d find out whether their love could withstand the ultimate test. He had come with every intention to win over her family, but now he was clear on the fact that he would never win her parents’ approval. Not only that, it wasn’t the right environment for her. She loved singing; the day they had spent at the studio had energized and exhilarated her. Divya wasn’t a corporate lawyer, and if she stayed with her family, they would crush her spirit.
But could she stand up to her family? Could she give them up for him? If she had to choose, would she choose him?
He held out his hand to her. “Come with me, Divya. My plane is ready to take you anywhere you want to go, and I’ll be with you. I’ll take care of you.”
Time stopped. Their eyes locked and he tried to tell her how much he loved her, how badly he wanted her to choose him.
He didn’t know if it was a few seconds later or several minutes when Divya slowly shook her head and backed away from him.
“Divya, now’s the time to take a stand. Run away with me. Again.”
Her eyes shone. “Ethan, I can’t.” Her voice broke, and along with it, his heart shattered.
She’d made her choice, and it wasn’t him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Divya set her bag down and sat wearily on the old couch that she’d gotten at a yard sale. At least the temperature in New York City was much cooler than in Rajasthan.
She looked around the small apartment. Her bathroom at home was bigger than the entire five-hundred-square-foot efficiency, which included a galley kitchen, bathroom and bedroom/living room. The entire closet wasn’t even big enough for her shoe collection, but luckily all she’d come with was a suitcase worth of stuff and a Martin guitar.
This was the best she could afford right now, and she was fine with that. Arjun had offered to give her money, but she’d refused. Rajiv and Gauri had invited her to live with them. They were centrally located in Manhattan, and it would’ve made her life easier than commuting into the city more than an hour each way on buses and the subway. She had a small advance from the contract she’d signed with East Side Records, and for now, it was enough to pay the rent on this small place in New Jersey.
She ran her hand over the guitar. It was her only connection to Ethan. After he’d walked out on the dinner with her parents, she’d gone knocking on his hotel room door only to find the room empty. He wouldn’t answer her calls, texts or emails. Why wouldn’t he even give her a chance to explain?
The answer was plain as day. He’d realized he’d been impulsive again and done what he did best: give up.
It had been six months since that fateful dinner and not a day went by when she thought about whether she should have gone with him. But how could she have? She’d seen Sameer drinking that night at dinner, and she couldn’t leave without making sure he was okay. Her worst fears had come true when she’d found Sameer in bed the next morning, clearly hungover. She’d hoped it was just alcohol but knew enough from her research about addiction to know that he was in trouble. She had returned to India with her parents and siblings, to wallow in self-pity and watch over Sameer. Her parents assumed that she had come to her senses regarding Ethan. She’d slipped into her old life like a familiar pair of jeans that went with everything but felt a little too tight.
She searched Ethan’s name on Google every day, and while there were articles about his company, he had disappeared from public life. It was as if he’d been a figment of her imagination. Then a month later, the Martin guitar had showed up at her house in India. There was no note, but she knew what he was trying to tell her.
She’d been miserable in her regularly scheduled life. The work o
f lawyering brought her no joy. Her mother dragging her to social events made her want to scream. Then the guitar had arrived, and she’d realized that just because Ethan was gone didn’t mean that she had to go back to her old life. She had fled her wedding in search of her dream. A dream that could turn into reality. It was time to follow through.
She’d sent her demo to East Side Records and they had asked her to come to New York.
Sameer had still been lying to her about his addiction, and she’d finally called Arjun and told him what was going on with their brother. With typical take-charge efficiency, Arjun found the best rehab facility in the United States and flew Sameer there in the family jet. Sameer’s continued relapses had finally made her realize that she had done him a disservice by trying to manage his addiction herself.
She’d packed her bags, left her parents a note along with a special item for her mom, and bought an economy class ticket on a commercial plane to New York.
The album with East Side Records was being released next week.
Her phone buzzed with a video call from Sameer. She clicked and greeted her brother. Sameer had stayed in the facility for ninety days and had been out for two months. “How’s the next Beyoncé settling into her new space?”
She grinned back at her brother, noting how great he looked. He’d been sober for five months, and she had nothing to do with it. “It’s a little basic, but I don’t need much.” She turned the camera to show him.
“Basic? Div, our servants live in better quarters than that. I don’t understand why you won’t use your bank accounts. Ma and Dad haven’t cut you off, you know. Stop being stubborn and call them. I’m sure they’ll come to the launch party if you personally invite them.”
“I sent them the invitation.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know who’s more stubborn, you or them.”
“I will not be held hostage emotionally.”
Her parents’ plan had almost worked. The entire time she’d been back in India, her parents had reminded her of her responsibility and duty to the family. If Ethan hadn’t sent the guitar, she would’ve slipped further into her old life. But leaving India made her realize that she’d faced her worst fear, and she was fine. As Arjun reminded her, he’d been forgiven for wanting to marry Rani, and eventually Divya would be forgiven too. She had to wait out their parents.
“Well, I am not staying in that dump when I come next week, but I do have a surprise for you that should be arriving any second.”
As if on cue, someone knocked on the door. She opened it and a deliveryman handed her a giant box from Naeem Khan, one of her favorite designers, known for his Indian-influenced dresses. She squealed and set the phone on the coffee table so Sameer could see her unbox it. “You didn’t!”
“My sister is not going to launch her first album wearing something off-the-rack.”
Divya pulled out the beautiful gown. It was pale pink with a sheer black layer embellished with intricate embroidery. She excused herself to put it on and it fit perfectly. The asymmetric neckline was striking, and the hem was just the right length for the heels that were included in the box.
“Oh my God, I love it.” She twirled in front of the phone’s camera for Sameer to see.
“I asked Ma to contact your tailor in India to send your measurements to the New York boutique. I think she’s ready to forgive you.”
Divya ignored his comment. “This dress is way too tasteful for something you would pick out and way too risqué for Ma’s tastes.”
“I had help,” he said slyly.
She narrowed her eyes. “Sameer, are you already dating? You know what the therapist said about taking time to be by yourself.”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s just a friend. Relax.” Then his voice became serious. “You don’t have to worry about me, Div. I’m really good this time.” She believed him. He sounded different—stronger, more confident. “Arjun and Rani have been amazing in supporting me, and Karishma’s really stepped up with the India office. She’s way better than you were.”
Divya smiled. She hadn’t given her younger sister enough credit for being ready to step up. She’d always see her as the little girl who pulled her pigtails and stole her toys.
“Karishma is so good, she actually got the family jet for her and Naina to come to New York for your launch party.”
Divya’s heart filled with love for her siblings. They’d banded together to support her, and yet it felt like a piece of her soul was missing.
“Have you invited him?”
Sameer didn’t have to say who he meant. They both knew. She shook her head.
“Want me to invite him?”
“Don’t you dare. I’ve tried contacting him. If he wanted to talk to me, he knows how to get hold of me.”
“Have you ever thought about the fact that he was right in running away? You didn’t exactly stand up for him with Ma and Dad. Even I wasn’t sure that you really wanted to be with him. You seemed to be unsure of what you wanted.”
“It’s what he does, Sam. He decides to take something on full steam ahead and when it gets real, he runs away. It’s best I forget about him.”
“You don’t seem okay,” Sameer said.
She pasted a smile on her face. “Of course I am. I’m just jittery getting ready for the record launch.” After she hung up the phone, she ran her hands over the guitar. She wasn’t okay. Her parachute hadn’t opened and she didn’t know what to do. She was hurtling toward the ground, and Ethan wasn’t there to pull the cord.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ethan stared at the phone, unwilling to believe what his mother had just said.
“Divya’s mother specifically said Matt, Heather and the kids are included in the invitation to Divya’s record launch.”
Divya’s mother had called his? He rubbed his neck, looking out at the view of the Hudson River from his Upper West Side condo.
“The kids are really excited to go. They’ve been asking about Divya.”
“You can use my plane,” he said flatly.
“Hon, there’s got to be a way to patch things up,” his mother said.
No, there isn’t. He had changed his cell phone number and email address, closed all his social media accounts. He didn’t want to weaken and answer Divya’s call. Yet not an hour went by when he didn’t think about her, when he didn’t worry about her, when he didn’t miss her. He had consoled himself with the knowledge that she’d be happier without him in the long term.
“Mom, you weren’t there that night. You should’ve seen her face when I stood up to her parents. Her heart broke right in front of me. If we stayed together, our love would be a constant battle in her house. It would ruin the amazing relationship she has with her family. She’d feel like a part of her was missing. I don’t want that life for her. Marrying an Indian woman means marrying her family.”
“Mrs. Singh invited you too.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think it’s her way of reaching out to you.”
He still couldn’t believe that Divya’s mother had called to invite his family to her launch party. Six months had gone by. He was sure by now they’d have found her another Vivek to marry.
“If you ask me, I think she sounded incredibly sad. We talked for over an hour. She asked me a lot of questions about you and about our family. She sounded really nice.”
“That’s why I’m wondering if it was really her,” Ethan said.
Marilyn chuckled. “You know, Ethan, ever since middle school, I’ve watched you crush on one girl after another. You always cancel the relationship before it really begins, because you’re so afraid the girl will break up with you.”
He looked at the picture sitting on his kitchen counter. It was the only personal item in his otherwise sterile condo. A picture of him and Divya and Allie and Jake on a giant teddy
bear. It was exactly what he wanted.
He remembered what Divya had told him the first day they met. She wanted to be independent; she didn’t want to get saddled down with a husband and children. Now that she was on the way to achieving her dream, he wouldn’t be the one to hold her back. She deserved to get everything she wanted in life.
Out of habit, he touched the little box in his pocket. It was the ring he’d bought for Divya when they’d arrived in Vegas on the day he was scheduled to meet her parents. He carried it with him everywhere he went, unable to let it go.
“You should all attend, but I won’t be coming,” he said to his mother, a note of finality in his voice. “Tell Divya I wish her well.”
* * *
It was her night. She looked amazing. She stood backstage, waiting for her cue to make a grand entrance. She should feel nervous, excited, maybe even scared, but all she felt was empty. What was the point of this success if she couldn’t share it with the people she loved? Maybe she had been too stubborn. She should have called her parents. She should have called Ethan.
“There she is.”
Divya turned to see Arjun making his way toward her with Karishma, Naina, Rani and Sameer right behind him. Sameer stretched out his arms to pull her into a hug, but Karishma slapped him away. “Do not ruin her makeup or hair right before she goes onstage. Look how perfect she looks.”
“You do clean up nice, sis,” Sameer quipped.
It had been four months since she’d left home and seen all her siblings together and her heart swelled. “Did Ma and—?”
“We came.”
Divya turned to see her parents step toward her from the shadows.
“How could we miss this?” her father said.
Divya didn’t hesitate. She ran into her father’s outstretched arms and buried her face in his chest, not caring whether her hair and makeup were ruined. He put his hand on her head. “Beti, we are not going to agree with all the decisions you make, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you. And it does not give you the right to cut us out of your life.”
