First Love, Take Two

Saturday mornings were not for sleeping in. It was a scientifically proven fact that kids, from in utero onward, would throw a wrench into any schedule. Also, cut-and-go was an actual game plan when it came to emergency C-sections.

This residency with this practice of family physicians had labor and delivery privileges, as well as surgical first assist privileges. It wasn’t common, and I might never find a job that allowed me to deliver babies ever again. So I pretty much lived at the hospital trying to deliver as many bundles of joy as possible.

While I loved the rush and celebrating the momentous arrival of life, I didn’t love having to wake up at three in the morning, hurry to the hospital, throw on a surgical gown, and dive red-eyed into a delivery. And then rounds at seven and finishing up side projects and scheduling by end of day.

My feet hurt. They were actually throbbing. Standing in the OR was not conducive to happy feet and ankles. I should really look into orthopedic shoes. My legs ached. I could just imagine a little blood clot with a devious ability to expand forming and traveling its deadly way to my brain.

Late Saturday afternoon hit in the blink of a weary eye, and I was scurrying to finish packing before Liya arrived from Dallas.

Sana came over to the apartment to help after my shift. She always spoke softly but had much to say, which was a fantastic but gentle shot of energy. We’d almost finished packing before Liya’s grand arrival, which led to chatter and updates. She talked about everything from her new job to Dallas air pollution to Jay, but she had yet to mention her scandal. I wasn’t going to push. She needed time.

“I’m going to India to meet the guy my parents want me to consider,” Sana said nervously, avoiding Liya’s gaze.

“Oh, terrific!” I replied, holding the edges of a box while Sana taped it closed.

“It’s wise to spend time with him before agreeing to marriage,” Liya added.

We gave her a long blink.

“What?” she said.

“Usually you have some strong opinion,” I reminded her.

“I already voiced my opinion. But if you must entertain the notion of allowing your parents to set up your marriage, then spend as much time with him in person as possible. He should come here, too.”

“He is!” Sana said, her face lighting up. “In six months.”

“So, this isn’t a quick wedding?” Liya asked as she placed the last of my study supplies into a box and folded over the cardboard flaps.

“No! You assumed it was.”

“My fault.”

“Yes, your fault,” she said with a hint of unexpected sass.

Liya smirked. “Make sure to interview everyone he’s ever come into contact with so you get all views and not just what he’s selling.”

“My list is ready. Covert interviewing to commence ASAP.”

“That’s my girl.”

“What about you, Preeti?” Sana asked, taping another box. “How’s it going with Yuvan?”

“Okay…” I winced, my gaze flitting around the room to find something else to busy myself with.

She scowled. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“I dunno. When we first met, he seemed great. That perfect Indian guy, so to speak, who has an established career, takes charge at mandir, is respected by everyone and adored by my parents. He didn’t seem to care about my past or what people said, which is always a relief. But there’s no connection. No sparks. Maybe I was hoping for a whirlwind romance, or some butterflies in anticipation of seeing him again. I just expected to be more excited.”

“It doesn’t always happen that way,” Sana said. “How many people do we know who weren’t in love with their spouses before marriage, or were more nervous than excited? All of our parents were matched and didn’t know the other person. All of my cousins. Some of Preeti’s cousins. Lots of your cousins, Liya.”

“Yeah, I just think there’s something wrong if the man you think you’re supposed to marry doesn’t incite some enthusiasm when we all know it’s possible for a man to do that for you,” Liya said, looking pointedly at me. Subtlety was not her forte.

Sana got quiet, knowing full well that Liya was referring to Daniel. Sana had been there for all the love and drama and breakup tears.

“By the way,” Liya continued, “I told Daniel that you come with the apartment and he said, and I quote, ‘Perfect.’ Guess you two will be living together for three weeks.”

Sana swerved her head toward me. “Um, what?”

I groaned. “Can we not discuss that?”

“Wait a minute. We most certainly need to discuss you living with your ex. What’s happening?”

“It’s nothing. Just a weird, temporary living arrangement. Can you please not tell anyone?”

“Of course I won’t tell! But I need to know every detail.”

Liya grinned. “Methinks that even the most traditional of us is Team Daniel?”

“Yes!” Sana squeaked. “As if there was ever a doubt. Listen, I might be traditional in many ways, but love is love, woman. You make things work with him.”

“But Yuvan—” I protested.

She waved him off. “I don’t even know Yuvan.”

“Oh, boy.” I glanced at Liya, who was trying not to laugh. I checked my watch dramatically and said, “Oh, no. Look at the time. Sana, you’re going to be late for mandir.”

Her excitement fell flat as she announced, “I’ll help get these boxes into the car, but don’t think I’ll forget this whole thing.”

I gave her a quick hug on her way to the car, grateful for the out. “Thanks for helping.”

With the strength of womanpower, we loaded my car and Liya’s, made one trip to my new place, and lugged everything inside. Who needed men?

About three hours later, we had everything in my temporary place and had unpacked quite a bit.

“Here are the rest of your things,” Liya said as she brought the last box inside. I was hanging my clothes, all while ignoring the suits and men’s shoes on the left side of the closet. Just knowing that my clothes were going to be alone with Daniel’s felt naughty.

I stepped back and bit my nail. Daniel had several suits and slacks and a few shirts in here, but probably not all of his clothes. He must’ve left some in storage for now.

My items didn’t take up much space in the walk-in closet. There was plenty of room to spare. Lots of shelves helped organize folded clothes and shoes. I only had four pairs of shoes, but Daniel? Why did he need so many shades of brown and gray?

There was even more room in the tall five-drawer dresser and the longer but shorter dresser with a mirror. His watch and cuffs were on the tall dresser. Seemed as if he’d moved in already. Maybe he was with his family right now.

“Thanks so much for letting me stay here,” I said to Liya.

“I should be thanking you. I won’t have to worry about someone breaking in and stealing my stuff.”

Both of our phones went off, and Liya checked hers. “Oh, shoot. Reema’s flight is delayed. They won’t get in until one a.m. and her parents will pick them up from the airport.” She pouted. “I was really hoping to see her and Rohan.”

“Oh, no. That sucks. I can’t stay up that late. Guess I won’t see them today, either.”

“But you have tomorrow. I have to get back to Dallas and prepare for a meeting.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Welcome to international affairs. The client is fourteen hours ahead and wants the meeting first thing their Monday morning.”

I didn’t have much time on my hands between work and studying and family and mandir, but I absolutely loved hanging with my girls. At the end of our too-short visit, I sent Liya off with a little bit of Grandma Thompson’s leftovers and a slice of pie and set out to organize my things in my new place.

I walked through the roomy apartment and glanced around.

All alone.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t living with family or friends.

The place was quiet. And so big. All I really needed was a corner to study in, a decent bed, a bathroom, a small fridge, and most importantly, a microwave to reheat leftovers.

I checked every room and closet and triple-checked the locks to the door and the balcony. Everything was secure. Then why was my skin itching and my nerves on edge? What was I so afraid of? Of being alone? In the dark? Of facing Daniel? Or all of the above?

To calm myself, I finalized the resident holiday schedule, realizing I’d have to pick up extra shifts here and there. But that was fine, seeing that I was able to accommodate everyone. I sent it off in an email to my colleagues and boss.

After a quick shower, I slipped into pajamas and wiggled. I loved comfy clothes, and this was the best part of the day. Another lock check and I turned off the lights. One by one. The darkness grew.

I shook my head and muttered, “You’re a grown woman. You can’t be afraid of sleeping alone.”

Then I crawled into bed, pulled the covers to my chest, and glared at the door.

Just waiting for Daniel to walk in and wreck my world.