Gabriel and Gyan were college sweethearts, and they thought they had found the love of their lives. Then Gabriel got an opportunity in Australia, and he left behind a heartbroken Gyan.
It's been more than five years, and Gabriel finds hims...
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"You've gone too far this time, Gyan," Nila said from across the line, the irritation clear in her tone. "How dare you confront Ishaan?"
"He finally told you? Little bitch," I muttered the last part.
"Watch it," she said. "That's my husband you're talking about."
"A husband who disrespects you."
"This is my problem," she reminded me. "Stay out of it."
"I'm your brother," I said. "I'm supposed to be here for you. I can't stand by and let a guy like Ishaan cheat on you with another woman. I'm supposed to protect you and Alisha."
"Stop trying to protect everyone," she said. "We can take care of ourselves. Sometimes, you need the protection, and that's okay."
She reminded me of Gabriel. The thought of him made me smile. Things were great between us, and I hadn't been this happy in a while. I could only imagine what our live would have been like if I was out to my family and didn't have to marry Anushka. It would have been bliss.
"Gyan," Nila said, bringing me back. "Are you listening to me?"
"Yeah," I lied. "Can you repeat it, though?"
She sighed. "You're not seeing this situation from my perspective. You're seeing this as an opportunity to be a heroic brother, but it's not about you."
"Then tell me your perspective."
"I struggle," she said, "in the workplace. Not because I'm not good enough but because I'm not taken seriously, but I have a family. I can work and be a mother at the same time, and that's a source of pride for me. If I struggle at work, at least I have my family." She went silent for a couple seconds. "I can't struggle with my family, too. At the end of the day, they're all I'll always have."
I never saw it like that. Nila was always a business woman, even when she was younger. Some people were surprised when she got married and had kids, thinking she would only prioritize work. Nila proved them wrong and had been juggling both for years now. I admired her for it. I admired my sister for a lot of things.
"I'm sorry for intervening without your permission," I said. "I just hate the idea of you doing nothing about it. It makes it seem as if his behavior is okay."
"I know," she said. "It's not very feminist of me, but I don't feel like I have many choices right now. I don't feel a strong sense of autonomy. I feel like you're in the same boat, too."
I hated to admit it, but I was. I felt like a puppet being manipulated by its master. Everything was being laid out for me, and it seemed as if my whole life had been preparing me for these arrangements. I was groomed from the beginning to act like the son my father wanted. He chose swimming for me. Many of the "girlfriends" I had were Indian girls who were daughters of family friends. He chose my bride and my career choice.
