the weight of such beauty is sometimes overwhelming. And although I yearned for such affection, it scared me. To mean that much to someone, to be her every dream, her desire, her deity was something I was quite sure I didnât deserve. But love isnât about deserving. Love is a haphazard thing that blows like the wind this way and that and then, having found a nook to nestle in, quiets down and beats in a heart full of haphazard hope.
âSo stop fucking with her. Or let her go.â
âI love her,â I said, âButâ¦â
âBut?â
I wanted to tell Tiffany about my squatting stranger but I felt foolish. I didnât even know her name. And what would I say anyway? I saw a girl in the park, bought a photograph and now I want to see her again. And what would come of such a dialogue? The more I replayed it in my mind, the more foolish the words felt, the more my heart cowered. So I kept quiet about my squatting photographer.
âI could be faithful again, even after you,â I said.
âBut just not to Anjali?â
âI donât know,â I said as I sipped again, âI just donât know. Sometimes I love her so much I canât imagine someone else. Sometimes I feel trapped and think there has to be someone out there for me. I donât know what I feel.â
âMaybe if you knew, youâd be a lot happier.â
âItâs complicated.â
She said nothing.
âNow what are you thinking?â I asked.
âNothing.â
âSeriously?â
âJust thinking how complicated relationships are. Wondering if thereâs an easy one out there.â
âWell you have it simple, donât you?â
She laughed.
âAm I missing something?â I asked.
âIf you only knew, Jess.â
I would never tell her but secretly, I wanted her relationship to fail, wanted retribution. I wanted her to miss me, to long for me, to want me because I wanted her to feel the same hurt that I felt when I caught her in our bed with another woman. Not even an attractive woman at that. I always waited for her to tell me that she had made a mistake. She never did.
âI have to go, Tiff.â
âWhy? I talk about my relationship and suddenly you have to go?â
âNot something I want to discuss. For obvious reasons.â
âOkay, I mean I canât stop you. But just remember this conversation. What is it that you want? What are you doing to achieve it?â
I laughed.
âYou sound like one of those inspirational speakers.â
âWhen everything boomerangs back your way, all the good and bad of it all, youâll understand.â
âDid it boomerang for you?â
She sighed. Her eyes were resigned.
âOne last toast,â she said softly.
She raised her glass.
âTo you, Jasbir Banerjee.â
âThanks.â I said as I raised my glass to her and then swallowed the rest of my wine in a gulp. Then I got up and quietly, amid thoughts of faithfulness and Anjali, left to find my squatting stranger.
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Chapter Six
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When I stepped outside, there was still light, but the sun was low in the sky. I thought of Tiffany with her hand in her hair, an almost imperceptible smile upon her lips. I stopped. Maybe I should have asked her about my nameless photographer. But then I almost knew she would tell me to stay away. But then I also knew that Tiffany, of all people, knew about falling in love away from love, the ways of a wayward heart. But I wasnât in love. I couldnât even explain the attraction. I thought again of my squatting strangerâs smile, uninhibited and unafraid. Instead of returning into the restaurant, I walked towards Central Park.
I didnât know why I was so fascinated with finding her again. Part of me thought it was because she was so elusive to me. But that wasnât totally true. Anything a woman had worth chasing another woman would give me freely.