Then There Was You

by Mona Shroff

  Daniel looked away and grunted. “She should move on.”

  Anil shrugged. “Probably.”

  “She hasn’t? But I thought you and Auntie were keen on Sajan.”

  Anil chuckled. “We were. But Annika is not. And when was the last time Annika did anything she did not want to do?”

  A spark of hope lit Daniel’s heart. The way he’d left her, he’d thought for sure...and that day, in Nilay’s room. The way she had looked at him, as if he’d better not dare ask for her back. He thought for sure she’d started seeing Sajan.

  Daniel looked Anil in the eye. “She’s not why I’m here.”

  Anil raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, I’m not getting help just to get her back.” Daniel sighed. “Quite frankly, I believe she can do better.” The daydream be damned. He should put it to rest. There would never be a baby for them.

  “That’s quite possible.” Anil grinned. “Why are you here, then? What do you hope to gain?”

  “Peace. I want to put my agony and fear to rest.”

  “And?”

  Damn it. “And I want her back.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ANNIKA

  ANNIKA SQUIRMED IN her childhood bed, avoided opening her eyes. The smell of masala chai floated up to her from the kitchen, mixed with the clean scent of her sheets, and took her back to her childhood, where everything was warm and soft and sunny. No one was disappointed, no hearts were broken, big evil men hadn’t punched her brother, and no children had been shot.

  Annika wanted to live in that moment for as long as she could, because when she opened her eyes, she would have to acknowledge all those things. And the pain from that was too much today. But today was the day she had to face. It had been a year ago today that she and Steven had gone to the emergency room. A year ago today that Daniel had held her for the first time. A year ago today that she lost her baby. Her heart ached, but she had no more tears. Just as well; she had shed too many this past year. Time to move on.

  Was that coffee she smelled? She opened her eyes. Her parents always had chai in the morning. They hadn’t wanted her to be alone today, so they had insisted she come home for a few days. As it was currently spring break in Baltimore County, she had agreed. The truth of it was that she was grateful to be near her family today. She sat up in bed. The day was going to come whether she faced it or not. Better to face it. She washed up, donned an old Towson University sweatshirt, and followed the scent of chai and coffee to the kitchen.

  “Jay Shree Krishna.” The automatic greeting of praise to God fell from her lips without thought.

  “Jay Shree Krishna.” Her parents responded in unison. Her father glanced at her and went back to his chai. Her mother studied her.

  “Where’s Nilay?”

  “School. A friend drove him,” her mother answered. “How are you, beta?” Annika cringed at the caution in her mother’s voice.

  “I’m okay, Mom. Don’t worry, I’m not going to crumble.”

  Her mother smiled. “Well, I should hope not. I raised my daughter to be strong.”

  “So, then, why are you so afraid to say anything?”

  “We don’t want you to yell at us,” her father stated simply.

  “I do not yell at—” She stopped because she was yelling. “Oh. Sorry about that,” she finished, sheepishly. “I smell coffee.”

  Her mother brightened. “We made you some.” She pointed at a brand-new coffeepot in the corner, filled with the life-giving liquid that Annika craved. She poured herself a mug and found her favorite creamer stocked in the fridge. Jay Shree Krishna, indeed.

  She sat down with her parents and took that first, life-changing sip of coffee. Amazing. She sensed them watching her, but she said nothing. Her father spoke first.

  “I’m glad you came home.” He rested his hand on hers. “It’s been too long that we saw you wake up in this house.”

  Her heart swelled. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until he said it. She squeezed his hand and smiled. “It really has.”

  Her father stood, taking his empty mug to the sink. “I must get to work.” He kissed the top of her forehead, then her mother’s cheek, before exiting the kitchen. He turned back as he left. “Annika, my car is in the shop, so I’m taking Mom’s car to work. Tonight we both have meetings. Mom will drop me off. Do you mind picking me up from mine?”

  Annika shrugged. “Sure. Text me the address.”

  Her father beamed, a little too happy about getting a ride from her. Whatever. Maybe she had been a bit extra difficult lately. “Great. See you then.”

  He left her alone with her mother. Her mother smiled at her and stood. “Toast?”

  “Yeah.” Annika stood as well, heading for the fridge. “Got any avocado?”

  “Of course. In fact, I’ll join you.”

  Her mother grabbed an avocado and began cutting it in silence. Annika put two pieces of bread in the toaster oven, then grabbed a lime and the salt. She waited for her mother to say something about her meeting up with Sajan.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you and Daniel.” Her mother looked up from the avocado.

  “What?” Annika didn’t have a moment to even hide her astonishment.

  “Well, it was clear how you felt about each other—”

  “But you and Papa—I thought you didn’t approve.”

  Her mother shrugged. “We didn’t. Not at first.” She sighed as she scooped the avocado into the bowl. She put down the spoon. “We were wrong, beta. But we didn’t realize how wrong we were until that day in the hospital.”

  Her heart was in her throat; she couldn’t speak. She truly loved Daniel and was certain that kind of love would not come for her again. Tears sprang to her eyes. Ugh. She was done crying.

  “I really miss him.”

  Her mother shook her head and drew Annika into her arms. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “And those aunties. At that party. What they said—it was so horrible.”

  “They are ashamed—I know this for a fact, because I told them off myself.”

  Annika pulled back to look at her mother. “You did what?”

  “I told them they should be ashamed to say such things. My daughter should not be ashamed of something she has no control over. They always were gossips, those two. Kaki and I have decided they are no longer welcome in our homes.”

  “Mom!” Annika was shocked that her mild-mannered mother had been so forceful.

  “Don’t be so shocked. I might be quiet, but no one messes with my children.”

  The tears were coming down for real now, and Annika could not stop them.

  Her mother held her close. “You have cried so much this year, beta. Get it all out.”

  As if permission from her mother had been all that she needed, Annika collapsed into her mother’s arms. The scent of cinnamon and cloves enveloped her, and she found herself getting comfort from where she’d always gotten her comfort. Her mother held her close and whispered soothing motherly things as Annika sobbed out every last tear she had for the baby she’d lost and the man she loved.

  * * *

  IT WASN’T UNTIL she pulled into the parking lot that Annika realized which meeting her father was attending. Or running, rather. She had the windows down, the fresh scents of spring tickling her nose. It was past 7:00 p.m., but the spring sun was just starting to set. Thank you, daylight saving time. She pulled out her laptop to tweak next week’s lesson plan.

  Voices carried to her on a warm breeze, and she looked up to search for her father. That was when she saw him.

  Daniel.

  Walking out of the community center in a fitted black T-shirt and jeans. She told herself she didn’t care, but her heart thumped in her chest, ready to betray her in a second. He continued talking to the man beside him. Her fat
her. Her heart raced faster. What was happening here?

  She froze, her gaze fixed on him. They were deep in conversation. Clearly Daniel had attended the meeting. Was this his first? How long had he been attending? So many questions she wanted answered. She was out of the car before she knew it.

  Daniel turned his attention toward the parking lot and stopped walking. She knew he’d seen her. He was as frozen as she was. She couldn’t move. She wanted to talk to him. No. She wanted to throw her arms around him and feel his arms around her, and hear him say—what? That he loved her? She already knew that. Or did she? He was clearly getting help to deal with his loss, but he hadn’t contacted her. Maybe she was too much of a reminder. Or maybe she was wrong and he didn’t love her the way she thought he did.

  Her father seemed to have noticed that Daniel was no longer beside him, so he turned. Daniel nodded to him, then the two men shook hands, and her father walked toward her.

  Her heart dropped into her stomach as she watched Daniel standing there, not approaching. He hadn’t moved from his spot, his gaze still as intent on her as ever. As soon as her father was in the car and had shut the door, she got in as well, her eyes never leaving Daniel’s. Once in, she quickly started the engine and pulled out of the spot. She couldn’t just watch him not come to her. And she couldn’t bring herself to go to him. Not if he didn’t want her.

  Her father chattered on about this thing and that, his voice becoming background noise. She pulled into their driveway with no idea how she had gotten there.

  “He’s in your group?” It was almost an accusation.

  “You know I can’t answer that, Annika.”

  “Yeah, okay. Fine.” She needed answers. Damn her father’s integrity. She glanced at her father. “How is he? I saw you talking to him, so you can at least tell me how he is.”

  “He’s fine.” He turned to face her, making eye contact. “Better.”

  “So, he’s—he’s moving on, then.” Without her. Her heart sank. “That’s great. I’m happy for him.” She truly was, but she had thought... It didn’t matter what she had thought. Maybe she had thought he would come back for her when he was in a better place. But those were her hopes. He had promised no such thing.

  “Oh, I don’t know about moving on, but he’s better because he’s getting help.” Her father’s smile said everything that he could not. His face held all the answers Annika was looking for.

  Annika’s apprehension vanished as she smiled and hugged her father. “Thanks.”

  They got out of the car and went into the house together. Annika felt lighter than she had in weeks. Daniel was getting help. And from her own father, of all places. Good for him. She put her hand on her heart and let happiness flood her. Good for him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  DANIEL

  DANIEL STOOD, FROZEN to the spot, as Annika jumped out of the car. For a moment he thought she was going to approach him, and he had willed her to come to him, since his own feet seemed to be glued to the spot. But she did not, though her gaze never wavered. He hadn’t contacted her to tell her he was getting help. He hadn’t known what to say—and the truth was, after the way he’d left her when she had needed him, he didn’t think he had a right to talk to her, anyway.

  What would he possibly say to her? Sorry I broke up with you? It was the biggest mistake of my life? I want you back? I will always love you?

  Absolutely not. Especially not today. Today, she was hurting.

  So he had remained frozen to his spot until she’d driven away.

  She had looked amazing. Had her eyes been red from crying? He couldn’t tell from where he stood. How was she coping with today? The anniversary date was never easy. She must be staying at her parents’, or else why would she have been in Columbia today? He smiled to himself. She was with her family, surrounded by people she loved, who loved her, too. She would be fine.

  He got onto his bike and headed for Sheila’s. Aaron was all of three months old and one of the happiest babies he’d ever seen. He’d promised Jim and Sheila a night out while he babysat his godson. Annika didn’t need him. He suppressed the ache in his heart as he realized this and focused on thoughts of Aaron. He’d been looking forward to this all day.

  * * *

  DANIEL WORKED AN overnight after watching Aaron for the evening. Note to self–don’t do that again. He’d forgotten how much work an infant could be. In any case, by the time he arrived at the soccer field that night for his nephew’s game, the match had started and Charlie was on the field. Charlie was quite intense on the ball for a ten-year-old boy, and his footwork was impressive. Daniel’s heart filled with pride. The sensation wasn’t new, just a bit rusty.

  Ten minutes in, the coach made a substitution, and a tired and sweaty Charlie grinned and waved at Daniel from the sidelines. Daniel waved back and turned to find a place to open his lawn chair and sit down. His stomach clenched when he caught sight of his father standing just a few feet away, watching him as intently as he had been watching Charlie.

  He walked over to his father. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk; it was that Daniel never knew what to say to him. It was easier if his sister or mother were around, though it hadn’t always been that way. They’d had their share of father-son disagreements, but those were mostly growing pains. Things had really changed after Sara died. His father had supported him by telling him that it was his responsibility to take care of his wife. Men didn’t need time to grieve. They simply moved on.

  Except that Daniel had just shut down. And because he still felt the pain of Sara’s death as keenly as if it had just happened yesterday, he knew he had failed, not only Sheila, but his father, too.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Daniel.” His father nodded. “See the footwork on our boy?”

  Daniel smiled. “Yeah, kid’s a natural. Where’s Em?”

  “She got held up at work. Michael, too. That’s why I’m here.”

  Daniel nodded, trying not to be obvious in his discomfort of having to be alone with his father. He considered standing elsewhere, but that seemed extreme.

  “Nice that you made it to the game. He’s talked about nothing else all day.” His father was starting a conversation. Weird.

  “He’s a good kid.” Daniel tried not to be too obvious as he looked around. Maybe Ba was here? “Sorry I was late. Got held up at the hospital.”

  “Happens.” His father shrugged and looked Daniel square in the eye. “He’s really happy you’ve been coming around.”

  A long-forgotten gentleness in the older man’s voice jerked Daniel’s attention properly to his father. He was met with that familiar green gaze but there was something softer about the older man, something—hesitant.

  “He, uh, really missed you. Probably could have benefited from you teaching him some foot skills.”

  “He’s got Michael.”

  “Michael’s a baseball player. He doesn’t know soccer.” His dad’s grin belied the mischief in his eyes. Soccer was clearly the better sport.

  Daniel chuckled at what his father wasn’t saying and shook his head to dismiss it. “I’ve missed him, too. Maybe I’ll come around a bit more, give him some tips on those ball-handling skills.”

  The older man’s shoulders relaxed, and a familiar twinkle entered his father’s eye. “I think he’d like that.”

  “Yeah.” A sense of calm fell upon Daniel, one that he hadn’t experienced around his father in years. “Me, too.”

  Coach put Charlie back on the field, so Daniel watched his nephew in companionable silence, side by side with his father. His father commented on Charlie’s strengths and pointed out areas for improvement. It reminded Daniel of when he and his father would analyze his own games, and whatever tension remained in him started to melt away into the ease that fathers and sons could share.

  “So, whatever happened to that girl?” his
father asked with the air of someone who already knew the answer. “I was hoping that going to group would have you running back to get her.”

  “You know about group?” Daniel was incredulous.

  His father shrugged, looking out at the field. “I hear things.”

  Daniel just stared at him, aghast.

  “You seem more—relaxed or something.” A quick glance in Daniel’s direction, then back to the field.

  “I am.”

  “So where is Annika, then?” This time his father turned to face him.

  Daniel’s heart clenched at the mere mention of her name. “It wasn’t going to work, Dad.” His turn to stare at the field.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yeah, Dad. I do.” It seemed that whatever peace he’d come to with his father wasn’t going to last.

  “I’m just saying that you’re not the same person you were a few months ago.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Dad. I left her while her brother was in surgery. While her parents were terrified. When she needed me, I wasn’t there. She deserves better.”

  “Why did you leave her?”

  Daniel waved his father off. “Never mind.”

  “Look at me, son, when I’m talking to you.”

  You’re never too old to have to listen to your parents. Daniel turned and faced his father.

  “Danny, you’re going to have to face it sooner or later. Why did you leave her?”

  “Because... I was terrified, okay?” Daniel’s heart sank as the truth hit him. “Terrified that I’d have to be a father again—that I’d have to give my whole heart to someone—that as much as I wanted to, I hadn’t given my whole heart to her. And she deserves better than that.” An admission to the man who wasn’t afraid of anything.

  His father remained silent for so long that Daniel was convinced he hadn’t even heard. Just when Daniel was disgusted enough to walk away, his father spoke.

  “I almost left your mother once.”

  Daniel must have heard wrong. His parents were deeply in love. “What did you say?”