The Trouble with Hating You

by Sajni Patel

  So I had to let her be.

  Another woman caught my eye. It was Jay’s mother, Kokila Shah. I recognized her from the pictures Momma had sent of Jay. She wore a simple sari in white sewn with brown and peach flowers throughout. Her hair was combed back into an elegant bun. She didn’t wear any jewelry. Kokila Auntie had a soft, sweet demeanor that made me regret how I’d handled the entire situation by running out on her.

  My gut turned heavy and queasy. I let out a breath and marched toward her as she clasped her hands in reverence and greeting to the idols ahead.

  “Auntie?” I said.

  She startled a bit as she looked me over. Realization must’ve dawned on her at some point, but there was no single moment in which her pleasant features turned harsh. “Liya?”

  “Yes. I just wanted to apologize for what happened at my parents’ house.”

  “Oh?” she said, but the condescending tone I expected never came.

  “Sometimes I can be brash and act without thinking it through. I didn’t know it was a meeting meeting that day at my parents’ house. I wasn’t prepared for it, and quite frankly, I’m not interested in marriage right now. It had absolutely nothing to do with you or your family. I just didn’t want you to be upset or think it was anything against you or that I was some rude girl.”

  “Do you really care what I think?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t usually care what anyone thinks of me. I find most people are put off by a woman who speaks her own mind.”

  She arched a brow, her eyes lit with amusement.

  “But I’m not a terrible person who runs around doing rude things to perfectly fine people. I didn’t handle the situation with the maturity and grace that it called for. Actually, if I had stood there in front of everyone and spoke my mind, I’m more than certain that it would’ve come off just as rude and upsetting.”

  She paused and regarded me for a moment. Here it came. The annoyance and instant dislike. Oh, well. I was used to those things. But for some reason, I wanted her to like me. She had this way about her; a woman who was strong but genuine. And that was something to be admired.

  She beamed and touched my hand. “I’m glad that you told me. I was so worried and fraught over what the problem was.”

  “The problem was definitely not you or your family.”

  Prayer chants began, and she glanced at the platform at the front of the room.

  “I’ll let you get seated. Maybe we can chat later.”

  “Really?” Hope flushed her eyes.

  “Oh! Not about marriage, though,” I quickly added.

  She smiled, nodded, and walked away.

  Amid the throngs of blurred faces and meshed voices, there was always the one who stood out the most. Whatever pride and power I’d built outside this place now withered. Because there he was. A prowling demon in the shadows, something that should’ve been slain a long time ago. He was among the highest of the respected men in the community, with his devout casing concealing the darkness of his slithering soul. He took care of the temple better than the caretaker. Spent more money and time on it than anyone. He was revered, put on a pedestal for all others to aspire to become. A man who served the poor, took care of the sick, cooked in the kitchens, hung out with the younger men, taught Sunday school, and took the lead in organizing events.

  His wife was a saint, that was certain. She didn’t have a bad bone in her body, an evil thought in her heart. They had three daughters, all talented and respected, with perfect lives. The two eldest were doctors, one a surgeon, the other a chief of medicine. The youngest had just finished her degree and returned to Houston.

  Mukesh. The pious. The unadulterated. The embodiment of a hard-working immigrant who made a rich name in America and remained humble all the way.

  Mukesh. The only man I hated more than Dad.

  Dad, oh, I could loathe him, argue, slam doors in his face.

  Mukesh? I wanted to literally kill him. Because he deserved it.

  But without evidence of his sexual assault against me, his word against mine, the saint against the whore, there was no point. He was the reason I was broken. And he was the reason why I wasn’t welcomed here, with his malicious fueling of the gossip fire that made me stay away.

  Reema bumped into my arm, jerking me back into the moment, and apologized. I waved it off and joined their hushed chatter. Mukesh could creep back into the shadows.

  In the back, we whispered, watched others, giggled at the kids, and ignored whatever was being said up front because today’s sermon was about the good wife. The diligent, flawless, presentable woman who was educated and obedient, who cooked and cleaned and raised the kids, but also contributed by working. She never spoke out of turn and always agreed with her husband, the head of the house, because any reproach on her was a reproach on her husband, on her family, on her name.

  After I rolled my eyes, my gaze dropped on the third to last person I wanted to see.

  Jay. Out of the hundreds of people here, why?

  Ugh. The thing wrong with going to mandir was these run-ins with people I did not care to see. I was only here for my girls, to support them. But once Preeti got her confidence back and Reema’s wedding was done, there was no reason for me to return here. Ever.

  Just like that, my skin puckered into goose bumps and my heart revved up. Why did he irritate me so much?

  As he watched me with those golden eyes, I could see why he expected me to flop around like a fish gasping for water around him. Then his lips, full with sharp corners, lifted into a one-sided smirk.

  He was doing it again. Smiling. Expecting me to swoon. The only thing that incredibly attractive mouth did for me was annoy.

  I pressed my lips together and turned back toward the stage. Not that the sermon was anything better to focus on.

  Chapter Seven

  Jay

  Is that who I think it is?” Jahn asked, leaning toward me after the program ended and the crowds broke off into smaller groups to socialize.

  “What?” I asked.

  “That woman next to Reema and Sana. You guys keep looking at each other.”

  “We do?” I’d only recalled catching her eye once. “That’s Liya.”

  He chuckled. “I knew I should’ve met her after the basketball game.”

  “What?”

  “I expected you to look at her with some sort of disdain, but you look at her like you want to be friends.”

  I grumbled, “You’re imagining that.”

  “Nope. I know the difference between a frown and a smile.”

  “Was I smiling?”

  “Yeah. And not just a friendly smile, but a ‘hey, notice me’ type of smile.”

  “Ah, I don’t think so.”

  “Okay.” He grinned, amused.

  While I tried to socialize with others, I couldn’t keep from searching the room every few minutes for Liya. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Ravi popped a sweet into his mouth on his way over and said, “Can you believe she showed up?”

  “Who?” I asked, glancing behind him to see what types of food had been offered today.

  He cocked his chin in Liya’s general direction.

  “What’s your deal with her?” I found myself asking before I realized it.

  “With Liya?”

  “Yeah. How do you know she doesn’t want to just find her way back into this community? She knows you all, right? Maybe she wants to start over.”

  He and Samir laughed. Jahn and I were apparently the ones out of the joke.

  “Easy girls don’t change,” Ravi said so matter-of-factly that it made my stomach roll.

  My fists tightened at my sides. I growled beneath my breath, steam practically curling out of my nostrils. Why did we waste our time hanging around with this idiot? “Hey, Ravi. Tell me, are you a virgin?”

  “Of course, man. I know my culture, my religion.”

  “Ah. You’re a virgin because you’re religious, which is fine. But the
n how can you be so hateful when the same religion tells you to be peaceable and kind to all?”

  “I’m not perfect. And I’m speaking the truth.”

  “That’s a tired excuse. She’s imperfect, too. We all are. Being imperfect isn’t an excuse for you to slander. And she has every right to be here. Sounds like maybe you need to sit in the front row during sermons as much as anyone else.”

  His face hardened a degree. I could stand here and tell him that I wasn’t a virgin and see how he treated me. Based on my experience, he’d be fine with that, since I’m a man. Although I wasn’t very traditional, I liked some of our traditions, but the judgment and hate didn’t belong. And I could bet that at least half of the people here indulged in premarital sex, just as I knew at least half were likely to enjoy alcohol and meat when our religion forbade all three things.

  “Be careful, she’s talking to your wife,” Ravi warned Jahn, but Jahn casually looked over his shoulder at the unthreatening demeanor in which Liya chatted with Shilpa.

  “Right. We’ll take care of that right away,” I said and elbowed my brother to get the hell away from these morons.

  As we moved out of earshot, subtly looking back at them, Jahn said, “I don’t think those guys are proper association for you, little one.”

  I laughed. “Can you believe them? I get that she has a bad rep, but man, come on.”

  “I wonder if Ravi had tried to date her and she slammed his face into a wall.”

  I laughed harder.

  “What’s so amusing?” Shilpa asked, rubbing her swollen belly as she slouched in one of the many plastic chairs lining the room for the elderly…or in her case, for the pregnant.

  “Just how some guys act,” Jahn replied.

  She looked at me and pouted. “Was that all? You were laughing pretty hard. I haven’t seen something crack you up in a while, Mr. Serious.”

  I shrugged as Jahn lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. “How are my babies doing?”

  Liya, who had been standing at Shilpa’s side, arched her brows as if she had never heard anyone speak endearingly to their loved ones.

  “So sweet. We’re doing just fine,” she said. “Have you met Preeti and Liya? This is my husband, Jahnu.”

  Jahn gave a slight bow of the head. “Everyone calls me Jahn. Nice to meet you, Preeti.”

  Preeti smiled. “Nice to meet you, too. Nice to see more young faces here.”

  I said, “Well, youngish. Nice to meet you, Preeti. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  She blushed and swallowed, a wave of discomfort crossing her face. “I hope it’s something good,” she muttered.

  “Just that you’re the best medical resident here.”

  “Oh.” She smiled. “Thanks. I’m not usually here often, so I’m just making the rounds with new faces. But I hear you’ve been here for a while. Guess that shows how spiritual I am.”

  “Nonsense. You’re busy. Education comes first. Besides, this place is huge. If we weren’t broken into smaller groups, I don’t think I’d actually meet anyone! Just stick to myself in a corner on the edge of the crowd.”

  At that point, Jahn turned to greet Liya. “Nice to finally meet you, Liya.”

  “Finally?” she asked him, but threw an inquisitive look my way. She had appeared to be cordial until she looked at me.

  “Ah. Rohan speaks so highly of you,” Jahn added.

  “Oh, yes. I heard someone inquired about me.”

  I cleared my throat. “Well, you know why I did. Good to see you again, Liya.”

  “Rein in that enthusiasm; you might burst,” she said dryly.

  Our little group against the wall stilled, all eyes on me. “You can imagine after being left at a dinner intended to meet a possible marriage match, I might be a little wary of you.” I crossed my arms, feeling that irritating tick in my jaw.

  “Then you should’ve asked me if I wanted to meet you.” Was she trying to hide a smile? Did she realize, and enjoy, how much she got to me? And so damn easily?

  “I didn’t even know who you were.”

  “But by the time we had our first office meeting, you did know. In fact, you knew at the basketball game. And was that why you treated me the way you did?”

  I shuffled on my feet. I vaguely recalled where we were, in public, albeit cornered against the side wall between our little group of friends. But damn it, she was so easy to fight with. How the hell could I possibly stop myself?

  I lowered my voice. “Excuse me? How exactly did I treat you?”

  “You know how,” she replied in a calm, undeterred tone.

  “Having people popping into my meeting late gives me the right to call them out. Those meetings will potentially save your job.”

  She crossed her arms defiantly and tapped her bare foot against the floor. “You just can’t handle someone who actually declined you.”

  “You think I’m that shallow?”

  “It appears that way.”

  I sucked in a breath and looked skyward to gain my calm. “You love riling people up in a place of worship, don’t you?”

  “Don’t be so easily riled up.”

  Shilpa giggled, and we glared at her. “Oh, sorry. But you two are just so cute.”

  Jahn sported a grin, and even Preeti covered a smile. What was going on?

  “You bicker like an old married couple,” Shilpa said. But bless her heart, I could not say a thing against my bhabhi.

  So I sorted through all the things that I could throw out there, and instead said to Liya, “See you at work.”

  Liya shot back, “Bye.”

  But neither of us moved. “Can I speak to my family?” I asked.

  “I’m not stopping you. I’m in the company of friends.”

  “I doubt my family consider themselves your friends.” The words accidentally tumbled out, and I instantly wanted to slap myself.

  She paused, and every smile in the group slipped. She swallowed almost imperceptibly. The irritation and anger that usually marred her otherwise pretty features fled. And for a brief second, she was an open book of pain and rejection. I was such a dick.

  I went to apologize, but Liya was quick to say, “In case you wondered why I left the dinner, now you know. You’re every bit the jackass I pegged you for.”

  With the best of intentions suddenly shoved aside, my mouth spoke before my brain told it to shut up. “I do know why, and it has nothing to do with me, because you didn’t know me. You were more interested in making sure your assumption of me was known instead of excusing yourself properly. Forget if I’m offended. Do you have any idea what that did to my mother? Your parents?”

  “Don’t pretend to know a single thing about me. I am not going to become some high and mighty traditionalist’s submissive and subservient wife. Just because I left before dinner doesn’t make me a bad person; or do you just think that because I’m a female, anything I do against expectation is wrong?”

  I shook my head; anger sizzled through me. “To think your parents had spoken so highly of you, to have fooled my mother into thinking you were worth marrying.” Crap. I did it again. I instantly regretted my words. Another dick move, man.

  That spark of pain came to life and died just as quickly as she spat, “You clearly want a servant, not a woman, and that is a reflection of you, not me.”

  I actually gritted my teeth. “Now who’s acting like they know something about the other person? You’re making an assumption.”

  “Bailing on you worked out for both of us. People like you are just one of the reasons I loathe coming here.”

  She turned to Shilpa and Jahn and said in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turnaround, pleasant tone, “You are definitely not a reason to hate coming here. It was actually really nice meeting you. It’s hard to find people at this supposedly spiritual place who are not here to judge and belittle. So thank you for that. I hear Rohan and Reema invited you to the wedding, so be prepared for an amazing show at the reception.”

  �
��We better get ready to practice,” Preeti quietly added.

  They exchanged kind pleasantries with a baffled Shilpa and strode away to meet a few others. They chatted and laughed, and just like that, Liya’s moment of vulnerability disappeared.

  Shilpa glared at me.

  “What?”

  “Was that necessary?” she asked.

  “What did I do?”

  “I’ve never seen you behave so rudely with anyone.”

  I nearly coughed out the words, “Did you hear how she treated me? I only give back what she gives me.”

  “So, you think Ravi is a jerk because of what he says about her, and yet you act like that?” Jahn asked.

  “I don’t know where this is coming from. Just last weekend, you told me about the gossip, that it was better the dinner didn’t happen. I didn’t call her a whore. Ravi is a completely different story.”

  “No. You just implied that she would never be worthy of our friendship, much less our family,” Shilpa spat. “I like her. She’s smart and quick and has the funniest sense of humor.”

  “So you had no issue with how she treated me?”

  “Seems like she was doing just fine before you opened your mouth.”

  Before I could defend myself, Liya’s dad approached us. “So wonderful to see you here. Shilpa, you’re glowing.”

  “Thank you, Pranad Uncle,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage in all that annoyance toward me.

  “Again, I apologize for my daughter’s absence,” he said to me.

  “No worries, please,” I said.

  “Maybe we can try again at a later time?”

  I merely nodded, unable to bring myself to tell him that his daughter was the last woman on earth I’d marry.

  “I see that you’ve spoken with her?” he asked, half worried and half anxious. Poor uncle.

  “Yes. We actually meet together from time to time at her company.”

  “Splendid! Then you know she’s a hard worker. Smart girl. Very prestigious role at her company at a young age,” he elaborated, as if to clarify her qualifications.