Mr. Kadam spoke quietly. “It appears Ren has regained his memory, Miss Kelsey. He’d like to see you. Do you feel up to it, or should I tell him to wait until tomorrow?”
I hesitated and didn’t reply for a few seconds.
“Miss Kelsey? Are you quite alright?”
I sucked in a breath and mumbled. “I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”
Kishan sat by me, caring and constant. “I’ll support whatever you decide, Kells,” he said.
“Okay.” I nodded maniacally. “I should see him, right? You think I should see him, don’t you?”
I stood and took a few steps and then turned. “No. Wait. I can’t. What do I say to him? How do I explain everything?”
Kishan said, “He knows everything. He still remembers everything since we found him, but now his other memories have surfaced. If you don’t want to talk to him, you don’t have to.”
I bit my lip. “No. It’s okay. I’ll see him now.”
Mr. Kadam nodded. “He’s waiting for you in the observation lounge.”
I took another shaky step and then stopped. “Will you go with me, Kishan?”
He kissed my forehead. “Of course.”
We left a worried Mr. Kadam, who told us he would take over watch in the wheelhouse as we were otherwise occupied. I told Kishan I wanted to change first. I washed the makeup off my face and took off my fancy dress. Slipping on a pair of jeans, I pulled a T-shirt over my head. I removed the flower and brushed out my hair, then tugged on a pair of sneakers. Kishan waited for me outside, still in his silk shirt and tie.
I took his hand, and silently we made our way to the observation lounge. We started toward the couches. The room was dark; only the moonlight coming in through the window lit our way. I saw a shadowy figure rise. His form was silhouetted by the moon. I stopped.
Kishan wrapped me in a hug and whispered, “It’ll be alright. You go on, and call out if you need me.”
“But—”
“Go ahead.”
Kishan’s comforting presence was gone before I could issue another protest. I forced myself to take a step forward and then another. I was frightened, but I didn’t know what was scaring me. I finally reached Ren. He watched my every move with an awareness that made me nervous. He must have sensed my fear, because he dropped his intense gaze and gestured that I should sit. I perched nervously across from him and clasped my hands in my lap.
After a long quiet moment, I said, “You … wanted to talk to me?”
Ren sat back in his chair, studying me silently.
“What did you want to say?” I stammered.
He tilted his head. “You’re scared. You don’t need to be,” he said softly.
I dropped my gaze to my hands.
He went on, “You’re acting like you did when I first revealed myself to you at Phet’s house.”
“I can’t seem to help myself.”
“I don’t ever want you to be frightened of me, priya.”
My eyes met his, and I took a deep breath. “You said you remember. Is that true?”
“Yes. I was … triggered.”
Shocked, I asked, “What was the trigger? What brought back your memory of me after all this time?”
He looked away. “It’s not important. The important thing is that it’s over. I remember you. Us. Kishkindha. Oregon. I remember being taken, handing you to Kishan, the Valentine’s dance, fighting Li, our first kiss … all of it.”
I stood and walked to the window. I pressed my hand against the glass and kept my back turned to him.
Ren continued, “Phet was right. I did this to myself.”
I clenched my fist and touched my forehead to the cold glass. My breath fogged the window lightly then disappeared between breaths. “Why?” My voice broke. “Why did you do it?”
He rose and stood behind me—close enough that his nearness affected me. It was warm and calming, and yet at the same time, my nerves stood on end, prickling my skin until I was sensitive to everything around me. He touched a strand of my hair and his fingers brushed the back of my neck. I jumped but stayed where I was.
“Durga offered to help me block you out and even planted a subliminal aversion to being near you. The idea being that if somehow I was rescued, even then I would stay as far away from you as possible.”
“That included you not being able to touch me? The burning you felt?”
“Yes. That way, I’d avoid you, and Lokesh couldn’t use me to find you. He was making me say things that I didn’t want him to know. He made me hallucinate with some kind of power. He was obsessed with finding you. Forgetting you was the only way I could really protect you. The only way to save you.”
A tear splashed on my cheek. Others followed, and I sniffled softly.
He took a step closer and put a hand against the glass near mine. He leaned in and said quietly, “I’m so sorry, iadala. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I’m sorry for the things I said. I’m sorry about your birthday, and worst of all I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want you. That was never the case. Ever. Even when I couldn’t remember you.”
I laughed wetly. “Even when Randi was here?”
“I detested Randi.”
“You sure could have fooled me.”
“‘If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?’ I pushed you away on purpose. When Kishan gave you CPR, and I couldn’t, I knew you needed someone who could take care of you and be there for you. I couldn’t be what you needed.
“Kelsey, I can remember every moment I spent with you. I remember the first time you touched me as a tiger. I remember arguing with you in Kishkindha. I remember the fear I felt after the Kappa bit you. I remember the candlelight shining in your eyes at our Valentine’s dinner. I remember the first time you told me you loved me right before you left India, and I remember handing you to Kishan in Oregon and letting you go. I thought that was the hardest thing I’d ever experience, but then Durga offered me the chance to save you. I almost didn’t do it.
“There was a void in my heart after she took my memories. I felt them drain out of me, and there was nothing I could do to hold onto them. I desperately grasped at each one as they vanished, faded from my mind. The last thing I forgot was your face. That last image of you was so real, I tried to cup your face with my hands and hold on. I refused to let you go, but that image of you faded too until I held nothing. My heart was broken, and I couldn’t remember why. To live like that was horrible. I wanted Lokesh to kill me. I actually began to look forward to the torture. It was a distraction for my mind.”
He leaned his head and shoulder against the glass so he could see my face.
“Then one day, the three of you came and saved me. I didn’t know who you were. I felt like I should know you, but I couldn’t stay around you as a man without great pain. Being around you filled the emptiness though. It was worth the physical pain. I don’t think Durga expected that. That the emotional pull of you would override the physical discomforts of being close. So we came together again. But this time I was limited, blocked. As a tiger I could be close, be your companion, feel you near, and I fell for you again.
“Because a part of me sensed we belonged together, I was at peace. I would have been content to be your lapdog for the rest of my life. You asked me at the Star Festival if I would want more than that. The answer was no. There was nowhere else, no one else who made me feel like you did.
“Then when I broke up with you, I tried to prove to you and to myself that I didn’t need you. I avoided you. I hurt you. I paraded other women around, so you would believe I didn’t want you. But it was a lie. I had ten women surrounding me, and all I could think about was that cowboy having his hands on you. All I could see was the hurt I’d caused you. I convinced myself I was doing it for your own good. That you would be happier and would have a normal life without me. I selfishly pushed you toward Kishan knowing that if you were with him, at least I’d get to be near you sometim
es.”
“And you knew he could protect me.”
“Yes.”
I turned to the side to face him. “And now?”
“And now?” He laughed sadly and ran a hand through his hair. “And now I’m worse off than I was before. At least before, I didn’t have the memory of kissing you in the kitchen between batches of chocolate-peanut-butter cookies. I didn’t remember what it felt like dancing with you in Oregon. I didn’t remember what you looked like in your blue sharara dress. I didn’t have the memory of fighting for you or fighting with you. Of dating you or seeing you for the first time in months on Christmas day and how I finally felt … whole again.”
He sighed. “I know I caused you pain. I know I hurt you. I know I broke your trust, your faith in me. Just … tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this. How to make it right. How to win you back again. If I could take all the pain I caused you into myself, I would. You are more important to me than all the world, and I would sacrifice all of the world to make you happy, to keep you safe. Please believe me when I say that.”
I sniffed and moved in front of him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him fiercely. “I do believe that.”
He pressed me tightly to his chest and stroked my hair, quietly. We stood that way a long time. He seemed content to just hold me close. Finally, emotionally spent, I steeled myself and stepped away.
I patted his arm and said, “We can talk about this more tomorrow, Ren. It’s way past midnight now, and I’m exhausted. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight?” he asked, puzzled.
“Yes. Goodnight.” I took two steps away from him and felt his hand on my arm.
“Wait. I’ll walk with you.”
I quickly glanced away from his confused face and hesitated briefly before I spoke. “Umm … you’d better not. Kishan is … waiting for me.”
His face darkened. “You’re … still going with him?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“But didn’t anything I say make a difference to you? Kelsey—” He grabbed my hand and cupped it between his. “I can be with you again. I can touch you.” He brought my hand up to his cheek and pressed it there. “I can hold you. I can stay near you.” He pulled my palm down to his lips and closed his eyes as he kissed it.
He opened them slowly, and I gulped. “I know, Ren, but … it doesn’t matter. I’m … I’m with Kishan now.”
He dropped my hand as his blue eyes turned icy. “What do you mean you’re with Kishan now?”
“Kishan and I are dating now. You remember that, don’t you? Look, we’ll talk about it more tomorrow, okay?” I turned around.
He stepped around me and with a tightly controlled voice said, “I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, Kells. I want to talk about this now.”
“Ren, I don’t have the energy to fight about this right now. I need some time to process all this. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
He snagged my hand and tugged me lightly toward him. He pulled me closer and closer until my nose was an inch from his and my back was bent as I tried to keep some distance from him. He leaned toward me and I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. I panicked thinking he was going to kiss me, but instead, he pressed his lips against my cheek and said, “Fine. Go sleep now, but understand one thing. I will not lose you again, meri aadoo.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled and whispered, “It means … my peach.”
He straightened and let me go. I turned around and headed quickly for the door. Kishan waited for me near the exercise equipment and when I came closer, he held out his hand. I smiled and took it while he stared over my head. I turned and saw Ren was casually leaning against the door. He watched as Kishan led me off.
When we stepped into the elevator, Ren stood rooted in the same spot, watching us thoughtfully as we descended into the darkness.
When we got to my room, I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas. Kishan was sitting in a chair waiting for me when I came out. I sat on the bed and crossed my legs under me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m fine. I’d like to sleep now and talk about it later, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay. I’m going to help Mr. Kadam tonight. See you in the morning.” He stood and pulled the covers over me, tucking me in, pressed a kiss on my forehead, and gently closed the door behind him.
I turned out the light and twisted and squirmed until I got the heavy covers off and pulled my quilt over me instead. I suddenly realized that Ren knew how to tuck me in and Kishan didn’t. Angrily, I tossed Grandma’s blanket onto the chair and yanked the heavy coverlet up to my chin, stubbornly determined to fall asleep the way Kishan tucked me in. I fell asleep a long time later but moved restlessly all night.
When I woke up, I found that my feet were at the head of the bed and my arm was dangling over the side. I dragged my tired body to the shower and stared at my droopy, baggy eyes in the mirror afterward.
What am I going to do? Ren just wants to pick up where we left off. Can I do that? Can I hurt Kishan like that? Am I that kind of a person? What do I feel for Kishan? More than friendship, surely. He’s steady, reliable, comforting. Sheesh! I sound like I’m describing an old car. So what does that mean? He’s the Pinto to Ren’s Corvette? No. That’s not true either. I guess the real question here is what do I feel for Ren?
My heart thudded heavily in response as I allowed myself to picture him. The way I felt when he held me. The way my heart skipped when he touched my wrist. The way I trembled when he looked at me. I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. Set my mind apart from my feelings and analyze the situation logically.
No. I am not the kind of person to do that to Kishan. I told him I wouldn’t let him be alone again. Ren knew what he was doing even though he couldn’t remember. He had his chance and he gave me away. Kishan deserves to have his chance too. There. I’ve made my choice. My choice is to stay with Kishan.
With my decision made, I turned the key to my heart. I locked my feelings for Ren away deep inside me and left only the part of my heart open that belonged to Kishan. I felt cramped and uncomfortable, like I was trying to breathe on only one lung, but I had just enough heart left to function. More than a sliver anyway. So what if the other part of my heart was pounding like I’d wrapped a tourniquet around it? So what if it was ready to burst and undo me utterly? So what if I felt limited, stifled? I could learn to adapt to it like Chinese girls who learn to walk on bound feet. Sure, it would be painful at first, but eventually I’d get used to it.
Heartstrings fully taut, binding my emotions in place, pinching me like tight stays on a corset, I pulled on some clothes and reluctantly made my way up to the wheelhouse. I stopped at Kishan’s door and cracked it open. He was sleeping, the sheets bunched around his waist. I walked over to the bed and smoothed the hair away from his face. He smiled in his sleep and turned over. I left him and headed for the elevator.
When I reached the glass door, I found a blue silk rose with a folded note taped to it. I pulled the paper off and opened the note. Inside was a pair of pearl earrings and a poem.
Know you, perchance, how that poor formless wretch—
The Oyster—gems his shallow moonlit chalice?
Where the shell irks him, or the sea-sand frets,
He sheds this lovely lustre on his grief.
—Sir Edwin Arnold
Let me keep my pearl.
—Ren
I crushed the note and jammed it into my pocket along with the earrings. Then I rode the elevator up and went to the wheelhouse where I found Mr. Kadam working furiously on some notes.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
“Kishan and I hit upon the answer to these markings on the sky disk.”
“Oh? What are they?”
“Kishan thinks they’re obstacles that lie between us and the other pagodas. And that the path shown is a way to weave around them safely.”
/> “Obstacles, huh? I wonder what made him think that,” I said dryly.
Mr. Kadam ignored my comment. “We are testing that theory now. We will be approaching the first marker in an hour or so. That’s why I’ve sent Kishan off to rest.”
“I see.” I made myself some waffles with the Golden Fruit and sat down next to Mr. Kadam as he worked.
“Are you feeling better, Miss Kelsey?”
“I … didn’t sleep well. Ren and I talked, and he does seem to remember everything now. But that only makes things more complicated.”
“Yes. I spoke with him at great length earlier this morning.”
I turned all my attention to my plate, swirling the carefully cut bites of waffle in the syrup. “I … don’t really want to talk about it right now, if that’s alright with you.”
“Of course it is. You may speak to me whenever you wish or not at all. I am always at your disposal.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“Of course.”
An hour later, Kishan appeared with my jacket over his arm. He slipped it over my shoulders and turned to study the charts Mr. Kadam had been working on. Something crackled in my jacket pocket. I reached my hand inside and pulled out a paper. It was a sonnet. In fact, it was sonnet #116, which was usually one of my favorites.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.