Uncharted (Jersey Girls Book 3)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  She turned to Ravi with determination. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this. You have to leave.”

  33

  Ravi – The Email

  Ravi strode back to his apartment in confusion. Why had Nandita reacted that way? Why had she kicked him out so quickly just for a phone call? Who was she talking to?

  Over the last week, he had sensed her distance. She was pulling away from him, and he didn’t know why. Maybe he had moved too quickly. What did he know? He’d never had a relationship before; he wasn’t sure on how it should progress naturally, so he respected her distance and tried to give her space, even though it was nearly impossible. Nandita was like a half-full glass of wine for an alcoholic: you were desperate to take a sip. He'd managed, though. Tonight was the first time they had kissed since the picnic; he had hoped they were moving forward, but then she got a phone call and he got kicked out. She hadn’t even said goodbye and just waved from the couch while she answered the phone.

  He kicked open the door to his apartment, relieved that Tammy was out tonight and he could make some noise. After charging into the living room, he threw himself on the couch, kicking his shoes off to land haphazardly on the floor in front of him. He glanced at his laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of him and waved his hand over the touchpad to wake it up. He had an email; he’d been ignoring them for over a week. The last one he’d opened had given him the address for Nandita’s interview, and the last one he’d sent gave only a few sparse details about their meeting on his front porch.

  He stopped communicating because he realized he didn’t need to do this job. He didn’t need to persuade Nandita to return to India because she had no choice. They discussed her struggle with job applications daily; there wasn’t a chance that she would get a job and a visa before the summer was over. He avoided the emails, because it reminded him of the fact that he was in love with a girl who would leave soon, and it was going to break his heart. Even if her influence and support were enough to help him betray his parents and withdraw from U. Penn, he couldn’t go to India with her. It was a pipe dream.

  Perhaps he should send the email that would put his blackmailer out of his misery. Don’t worry, she’s coming back—she has no choice. He clicked on the email in front of him.

  I’m not sure what you are doing, “Hank,” but it is unacceptable. You cannot marry her. We are all in agreement that she must pay for her abandonment and serve her family. Please explain yourself.

  Hank? Who was Hank? What did he mean he couldn’t marry her? Just the word “marry” was enough to send him spiraling into glorious daydreams. Nandita curled up on a couch in a cozy row house somewhere in this neighborhood, waiting for him to finish cooking her dinner while she studied for an upcoming exam. Nandita dropping into the animal shelter, where he would be working as a vet, to bring him a packed lunch. Nandita stepping from his bathroom in her cute. ducky pajama bottoms and not much else before climbing into their bed.

  Suddenly, the daydreams came to a grinding halt. She must have been seeing someone else. It must have been Hank who called her and ended their evening so abruptly; apparently, they had discussed marriage, too. His heart swelled with panic. He was going lose her. Was it possible that she could keep such a big secret from him when they were so close? They had talked about everything and shared their dreams, desires, and frustrations.

  Remember, he thought, you are keeping an even bigger secret yourself—one that could devastate what you have created together.

  There were too many secrets.

  His phone buzzed with a text from Nandita. Awake?

  He picked up his phone and dialed her number. He needed to hear her voice. “Is everything okay?” he asked when she picked up. Her answer had sounded shaky.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I kicked you out—I miss you already. I had to eat a whole pizza by myself.”

  Ravi couldn’t help smiling. He'd seen Nandita eat, and although he knew she was joking, he didn’t doubt that it was possible. He shouldn’t ask the next question, but he needed to know if he should escape now. “Can I ask who was on the phone when you kicked me out?”

  He heard Nandita sigh. “It was Satish. We’re having a fight.”

  Was she telling the truth? Did he believe her? “What about?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “Do you think I should go back to India, Ravi? You said before that you thought I should go back, but that was before you knew me. Do you still think that?”

  Ravi struggled with his thoughts. There were so many things he needed to ask her, but every question would reveal that he had his own secrets. He wouldn’t risk exposing them if he couldn’t be with her, because he knew he wouldn’t make it. He didn’t have the strength to fight the expectations of others without her by his side. He would go to medical school, marry a girl his parents suggested, and live someone else’s life. Maybe it was time to let go of the dream.

  Why was she asking his opinion on returning to India? Why did she care what he thought? It must have been Hank. She must have been considering whether to marry Hank or return to her family. Ravi couldn’t bear the thought.

  “I don’t think you have an option, do you, Nan?” he said carefully, trying to keep his voice as steady and neutral as possible. “Your visa expires. What are you going to do?”

  “So, you think I should go.” Her voiced cracked with the threat of tears.

  Ravi stared at the email. “Yes, I think you should go.”

  “Okay, that’s what I needed to hear. Thanks.”

  Nandita hung up the phone. He held the dial tone to his ear for a few seconds before he put it down and squeezed his eyes against the tears. She could never be his anyway; she was Nandita Bhatt.

  34

  Nandita – The Realization

  After hanging up on Ravi, Nandita gripped the phone in her hand and held back her tears. She wouldn’t give these controlling men the satisfaction. First, she'd had a long argument with Satish, who had used the words “I forbid” in his conversation with her. He forbid her to marry someone she had just met that he didn’t know. His arrogance had just riled her more, and the conversation had devolved into blame and recriminations. Satish blamed her for not considering how her choices might affect the family, and she blamed Satish for not considering that she must have her own life. This was the controlling behavior she had run from in the first place.

  There was Ravi, too. She had sworn to herself that she would break things off with him, but then he had shown up at her door tonight, and she had started questioning everything. Maybe Ravi could help her. She didn’t think he could solve her visa problem, but she had realized tonight, after his lips had melted her into the couch, that she didn’t care. She'd go back to India if Ravi wanted to be with her, and then they could figure out a way to get her back to the US. She would do anything to be with him if he felt the same about her, but she didn’t know how he felt.

  She had fallen in love with him—truly, madly, deeply in love. She'd been trying to resist it by plowing forward with this crazy plan to marry sweet Hank and trying to convince herself that he was her only option. He wasn't, though. Her other option was to give in to these feelings for Ravi, even though they terrified her. She'd never been so frightened in her whole life. Could she risk everything for love? Did he feel the same, or was he happy with the knowledge that she’d be leaving at the end of the summer? Did he just consider their relationship a summer fling? There was only one way to find out.

  She would ask him if he thought she should go back to India. If he said yes, then this was only a fling and her heart would break. If he said no, don't go back to India and stay here with me, like he had that day outside her front door when he had kissed her so passionately, she would do anything for him. She would even give up her dream of Princeton and facing up to her horrible father. So, she had asked him, and now she had her answer.

  Ravi didn’t want her, and without Ravi, she only had one choice.

  Ha
nk was a good guy. They'd been getting along well and enjoying each other’s company. He was attentive, sweet, and gave no indication that he expected anything from her. She'd kept her thoughts and feelings to herself, but Hank had shared many of his concerns and worries. She'd been happy to play the confidant, listening closely and giving him carefully considered advice. Maybe Hank was developing feelings for her—she wasn’t sure—but she knew she would never see him as more than a father figure. He would get her a visa and into Princeton, though.

  Ravi had made it very clear that he didn’t see a future together. He had told her she should return to India, and she knew he had no plans of following her there. Maybe he had just told her the truth—the glaringly obvious truth that she had no choice. Of course, he didn’t know that she did have a choice, and if she had anything to do with it, he would never find out. Even if he didn't want her, she couldn't stand the thought of hurting him. She would just let him believe she’d vanished into thin air and was back in India, kowtowing to her selfish parents.

  It was so ironic, really. She'd run from her parents to escape an arranged marriage, and now she was running toward one. The idea of not marrying for love had been repugnant to her back then. Even Satish had believed the marriage her parents had arranged for her was the right one. She knew the boy, Praveen, through letters, but they'd never met. How could she marry someone she had never met?

  She had used the excuse that “love conquers all” as her call to freedom, but she had been so young and naive. Nandita had loved her boyfriend, Sachin, in a way. They'd made naive promises to each other: she would only stay in the US to get her education and then she would return, so they could be together. The young, superficial love she’d felt back then wasn’t strong enough to hold her and Sachin together, though. As she had grown older, she’d realized she hadn’t run away in the name of love, after all, but in the name of freedom. Choice trumped obligation, and here she was, considering an arranged marriage just so she could keep that freedom.

  That day nearly five years ago, the day she’d run, the tension between her and her father had climbed to unbearable levels. He had called her names, berated her incessantly, and told her she was a disappointment. Satish had arrived, then, like a white knight on a white horse—except this horse had engines and flew. She'd been so relieved when he had stepped through the door into their family home. Satish would fix it and change their father's mind, but her father had been furious with him. He blamed Satish for not forcing her into the marriage with Praveen and for putting strange ideas of America in her head. Satish had sat quietly and listened, but nothing changed. On that day, she’d realized nothing would change. Her only option was to run—unless her mother could help her.

  When Nandita had told Claire she hated her mother, she'd lied. She had been everything to her. It was her mother who had soothed the emotional scars from the verbal abuse heaped upon her by her father. It had been her mother who had quietly and secretly passed tiny amounts of cash from her housekeeping budget to Nandita for as long as she could remember.

  “For an emergency, lovey. Don’t spend it—save it. One day, you might need it.”

  Her mother had given Nandita an opportunity that she'd never had for herself. Instead of being dependent on a man for money, she had a bundle of cash secured under her mattress for when an emergency arose. That awful day when Satish had arrived and she’d realized even he couldn’t protect her right to choose, she'd gone to her mother, hoping she would intervene. Her usually soft and kind mother had been hard and dismissive, though. Nandita still remembered her words.

  “I have had enough with you, Nandita. You will follow the rules, or we will make you follow the rules. Don’t you understand that your life is not your own to plan?”

  Nandita had taken that money stuffed under her mattress and ran. At this moment, sitting on her balcony in the wet heat of an American summer, she had an epiphany. For years, she had blamed her mother for not standing up for her on that day. For years, she had nursed resentment over the words her mother had spoken. She had made a terrible mistake, though. Her mother hadn't refused to save her; she had given her the words to free her! Her sweet mother had been doing for Nandita what she couldn’t do for herself: giving her choices, permission to plan her own life, and an entire world full of opportunities. She had meant for those words to hurt, and she had meant for her daughter to run. It had been her secret plan all along.

  She felt tears flood her eyes and a small sob escaped her lips. God, she missed her mother. It was she who had given her the greatest gift of her life: choice. Now here Nandita was, all of her choices drained away.

  She would have given anything for Ravi to have chosen her. They were a perfect match, and together, they could have battled for the lives they both wanted. The thought that tonight had been their last kiss—their final touch—was killing her, but right now, it was time to stop feeling sorry for herself and move forward with the only choice left before her.

  She would marry Hank.

  Claire – The Admission

  “Who is this man?” Satish asked Claire. “I couldn’t get a word of useful information out of her on the phone this morning. She just kept spouting stupidity about how her life was up to her, and I should trust her. How can I trust a girl who gets engaged to a man she’s just met?” He was getting heated, so she gave him a look that told him to keep his eyes on the road. He dutifully turned back to his driving, and Claire leaned her head against her window, the cool glass against her cheek calming her panic.

  She had been freaking out since Nandita’s phone call this morning. All the girls had agreed she’d just been testing reactions at the dress fitting. She wasn't really planning on getting married, surely. Even Satish said she had sounded hesitant when he’d called her last night, but this morning, everything had changed. What was Nandita doing? Was she trying to punish Satish for not sponsoring her visa? Was she truly in love?

  Claire was kidding herself. The real reason was as prominent as the nose on her face: a green card. This morning, she had asked Nandita the immigration status of the stalker. Part of her hoped he was on a visa, too. He was obviously from an Indian family, so maybe he'd be returning to India with Nandita in September. It turned out that he was an American citizen, though. She’d said he was a successful businessman and that he was going to make her an American wife.

  She had emailed Mrs. Bhatt after Nandita's announcement at the boutique, wanting to prepare her for the possibility that Nan was serious. The email she'd sent before that had been full of the good news that Nandita would be returning to India soon, and her mother had been thrilled and excited, her response full of joy. The last response—the reply to the news that Nandita was in love—was not the one she expected. Satish’s mother was angry. The sweet and demure lady behind the previous emails had vanished, ordering Claire to sort this problem out. She’d used such strong language that Claire had considered cutting off all communication with her, but she realized it must have been distressing for Mrs. Bhatt. She had waited so long to have Nandita home, and the idea that it could all be snatched away so quickly was terrifying.

  This morning, she'd been harsh in return, telling her that she was not responsible for Nandita’s actions and neither was Satish. They would do their best, but for Nandita’s sake. She told her they would be meeting Nan and her fiancée for lunch today at Mediterra to try to talk some sense into them. They were young and impulsive, so surely wisdom and experience would have some influence. Nandita’s mother’s response had been muted, if not apologetic, and Claire’s desire to fess up to Satish about their clandestine communication had faded. She had no clue how his mother could speak to Satish daily and pretend she knew nothing about what was happening. Claire was beginning to believe she wasn’t the sweet, kind lady everyone made her out to be.

  Satish slammed his hand against the steering wheel and started his third rant of the drive. “I tried to discuss his background and his intentions, but she refused to say a wo
rd. Are we going backward, Claire? This feels like the Misty days, doesn't it? I thought we were past all of this with her.” They turned into Palmer Square and parked.

  Claire squeezed his thigh where her calming hand had sat for the entire forty-minute drive. It hadn’t worked. “I have a theory, Satish. Would you like to hear it?”

  He propped his elbows on the steering wheel and put his head in his hands. “Please, Claire. I love your theories.”

  “I think she’s marrying for a green card.”

  Satish lifted his head slowly from his hands as understanding dawned on his face, quickly replaced by disbelief. He shook his head forcefully. “No, she wouldn’t do that. Why would she do that? She ran from an arranged marriage—she believed in sparks and fire! She was the person who finally made me understand that you and I were meant to be together. I had to have passion explained to me by my teenage sister. She wouldn’t marry for convenience; it goes against everything she believes.”

  “Does it, babe? I think what Nandita believes in is Nandita first, everything else be damned.”

  Satish’s head turned toward her, like she had pulled it with a rope, and he frowned. “That’s a terrible thing to say, Claire. You don’t mean that.”

  She sighed. “No, I don’t mean it in the way you think I do. I don't think Nandita has a mean bone in her body. I think she was oppressed for so long by your father. All through her life, he told her what to think, what to feel, and what to do with every second of her day. Maybe that skewed her idea of what it means to have choices. In her mind, she believes she's entitled to go after what she wants and succeed—and she does have that right, of course—but she always does it with blinders on. She's only learned how to stand up for herself recently. She’s still figuring out that you can’t make choices for yourself in a vacuum and that you have to take the feelings of others into consideration. It’s almost like she’s gone too far, but she doesn’t know how to stop. It's as though life is all black and white for her, and she’s missing all those subtle shades of gray.” She took a breath. "She's still young, Satish. She doesn't need our anger—she needs our help."