Vows of Misfortune

4.

The door to my room was knocked on and I swiped at my cheeks, grabbing a tissue from the box I'd placed on the floor beside me.

"Come in," I said, my voice as clogged as my nose. It was dad. He squeezed through and closed the door behind him. His footsteps slightly padded across the carpet over to me. He groaned as he slowly lowered himself to the ground next to me. We both leaned against the structure of it and stared at the drawer across from me.

His large hand came to rest on my head and I crumpled all over again. Just when I thought my dry, aching eyes would be given a rest, this happened. I hung my head and tried to keep the sobbing at bay. It was embarrassing crying in front of both my parents, much less my dad.

He then pulled me closer to him, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. He didn't say anything. Only sat there, rubbing his hand up and down my arm.

"I've never felt so humiliated and unwanted in my life, dad," I whispered. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips against the skin on my forehead. It was warm, affectionate like it always was.

"You're wanted by the right people and that's all that matters." His voice sounded like he was crying himself. I hated that. I hated that I did that to him. "Trust me, you'll be okay, sweetheart. You're my daughter, after all."

I let out a choked laugh. "I'm sorry. For yelling at you and mum and throwing a tantrum like a little kid."

"We've been dealing with you and your sister's tantrums for 25 years. I think we're pretty used to that by now." He paused. "You know your mum only says the stuff she says because she cares about you, even if it does sound like she's forcing you."

I swallowed. "At this point, I'd rather do what she asks than waste any more energy defying her."

"Really?" My dad looked startled. "If your mum hears that, she'll be overjoyed."

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and laughed. "I know she's worried that I'll stay like this forever. I just need some more time. I don't know how long that will be but until then, please tell her to wait."

The thought of marriage again and to a stranger made me shudder but really, if the person I thought I'd known for most of my life had turned out to be a completely different person, then what was the harm?

My phone began ringing from its place on the bed, cutting off my laughter. Sniffling, I grabbed it and saw the second name I hated flash on the screen.

Anjali.

The hope that tickled within my chest was a feeling I hated and knew was related to Varun. I pressed the red button and turned to see that dad had seen me do that. He turned stiffly.

"You need to learn to forgive other people, Arshia, or you'll never be happy."

"I don't want to be happy if it means I can live the rest of my life cursing the people that hurt me."

"And waste a good God-given life? You want to be bitter when the only person it's hurting is you?" Dad had a point. I knew he had a point, but I couldn't make my tongue move to tell him that. He patted my knee. "We actually stopped by to tell you something else."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your mum and I are planning to go to India in a few weeks. Do you want to come with us?" Seeing my thinned lips, he continued, "Maybe a change of scenery will help you with this. And when you come back, if you want to, you can go for counselling. It's up to you, Arshia."

London was the only place I knew. I was born here. I grew up here. India had only ever been a faraway memory, a place for vacations to visit family which had stopped after Anjali pulled the stunt she had.