The Wrong Woman

42. Mouna

My arms were bumpy with gooseflesh and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I paced back and forth as I waited. It had been a while since Dhruv had gone out to speak to Anish and I was waiting for Sandra to come out of the toilet so that we could talk.

I wasn't used to this. Sandra and I...the real me, weren't close so how was I supposed to approach a subject like this? I didn't know what any of this was about or what it involved or how to delicately come upon the topic without sounding heartless.

I expected to break out into cold sweats under my armpits and upper lips as I normally did but I was sweat-free in that area, except for my forehead. I wiped the dampness away with the back of my hand and wrung my hands in front of me.

You can do it Mouna, I told myself. It's for Sandra. Her own good. Then Dhruv's words came back to me. Should I be the one telling her this? What if I caused another fight to break out between them because I meddled? I shook my head. No, there was no way for me to tell if Anish would ever tell her the truth. I was looking out for Rani's friend and if this was the way I had to do it, I would do it.

I had Dhruv's support, after all.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sandra asked, braiding her hair into one thick French braid as she came down the stairs. "You're so pale and sickly that it physically hurts looking at you."

I ignored her concern with a forced dismissive wave in the air. My stomach churned and I sat down on the kitchen stool. She took a seat at the dining table, chair facing me.

"Soooo," she drawled, "what's up? I've been here for like an hour and you've been acting super shady."

"Have I?" Even I could tell that that sounded fake. At her raised eyebrows, I glared down at my exposed legs from the satin shorts I was wearing. This was going to be the most difficult thing I would ever do in my life but it had to be done. "I saw Anish and Frankie the other night." Silence stretched between us for what seemed like decades. Dread overcame me, determined to choke me. Could I take back what I said? "B-But then again, I don't know the situation behind it. You and Anish should talk it out but I wanted to let—"

"So, it was Frankie." Her voice was level. Calm, even. That scared me more than what I had pictured in my head. She had her chin in her hand, elbow on the dining table. There were no tears in her eyes, no twist of scorn or anything.

Only curiosity.

"I knew he was cheating. It was so obvious. He barely spoke to me when we were alone. He made excuses not to touch me and all around seemed disinterested in everything to do with me. I just couldn't figure out who it was." She scoffed. "I missed several days of work to follow Anish around like some spy that I ended up at the rescue centre the other day pretending like I'd meant to be there. Pathetic, huh?"

"You're not pathetic," I croaked. I didn't know what to say. What could I say? Things were happening so quickly, that my brain had short-circuited. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." She lifted a shoulder to her ear in a light shrug. As she turned to look up at the ceiling, the light caught the glossy sheen in her eyes; she was holding back tears and it made my own water. "I guess I wished if it was anyone, it wouldn't be Frankie."

I rolled my lips in to keep from crying at that dialogue but I couldn't help it. A tear had escaped and I bent my head down so that she wouldn't see it.

"Why're you crying, you idiot?" she said, forcing a laugh as she swiped at her own tears with two fingers. I got up and wrapped her into a hug, my head on hers while she rested her head against my stomach. Her arms wrapped around me. It was an awkward position but I wanted to help somehow. I felt useless.

"I wish this never happened to you," I whispered. It was times like this where wishes really would help someone. I wondered why this didn't happen to Sandra. Why me and Rani? Why not her?

She sniffled, pulling away from me. "We can wish all we want but that's not going to change things, is it?"

I remained silent. We stood there, not knowing what to do or say until the noise of the front door opening reverberated off the walls. Panic clawed at me—what if Anish was with him? Would this cause a fight? I let out a sigh when I saw Dhruv was alone, eyes zeroed in on Sandra sitting limply.

"Sandra," he said softly. He didn't need to say anything else. She burst into tears, as if she couldn't control herself anymore, jumped up and went into his arms. I was a mess, trying not to cry again at seeing her break down like that. I didn't know why this hit me so personally when I had never been through such a thing before. Her pain, her grief—it hit me in a way nothing ever had.

Dhruv rubbed her arm over and over, remaining silent. The atmosphere was so thick, it was enough to strangle all three of us at the same time. Neither of us said anything or even moved. I wanted to grab a tissue to give Sandra and to use myself but I feared this delicate situation needed to be handled with the utmost precision.

And that meant not moving.

"I don't know what to do," sniffled Sandra as she pushed herself away from Dhruv to get her bearings. She swiped at her cheeks and fanned herself. "God, I feel like an idiot for sobbing into you like a child."

"You're the exact opposite of an idiot," I exclaimed. "It's normal to feel upset."

"She's right." Dhruv ruffled her hair that had come out of the braid. "Whatever you decide to do, we'll respect it. We're not turning our backs on either of you just because of what's happened. But," he stressed, "not right now. Right now, I think you need space."

Sandra shrugged. "You're right. I do need some space. From everyone."

"Call me or Rani if you ever need anything. We're always here."

It was tough watching her break down like that and then acting like she was put together again. She hugged us and left, but the atmosphere didn't fade away with her departure.

It hung over the both of us like an ever-darkening cloud that wanted to suck our souls dry. Why had I been the one to swap? I thought again. Sandra's life could have been changed if this had happened to her. What was there in my life that needed to be changed other than my selfish desires and wants?

Maybe this was the lesson I needed to learn. That not everyone got what they wanted and some things were just destined to be, no matter how much you wished for it to change.

Reality was incredibly cruel.