“Ever seen a Bollywood movie?”
Harrison shook his head, offered her the newspaper cup of spicy, crispy chickpeas, Goa’s equivalent to popcorn.
“I don’t have much time to watch movies.”
And he wouldn’t, not for a very long time. If the past seven years had been busy, his residency hours would be off the scale.
“Too bad. You’re missing out on a lot.”
“Fill me in.”
“Drama, mystery, passion, you’ll see.”
Her eyes sparkled with expectation as she scooped a handful of chickpeas, munched them, her gaze riveted to the opening credits while his gaze remained fixed on her.
He could watch her for hours, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the faintest indentation near her lips on the left, the long eyelashes, the sweep of her brow. He knew every inch of her face intimately, had committed it to memory, for who knew where the end of this week would lead them?
He had a fair idea but whether she’d agree to his plans was another matter.
“Any bad guys in this?”
“Shh.”
She waved him away, her attention focused on the screen, and he grinned, content to drape an arm around her waist and snuggle her closer.
As he read the subtitles, tapped his foot to the rhythmic beat of tablas as the actors danced and twirled their way across the screen in a flurry of colorful saris, Khushi leaning into him felt so right, so perfect, that he didn’t want this to end.
Not just this night—watching a movie on Colva Beach surrounded by other tourists, a sky full of stars overhead, a soft symphony of waves in the background—but this feeling. Feeling like he could do anything, be anyone, as long as Khushi was by his side.
Casting a surreptitious glance her way, he acknowledged what he’d refused to believe since the first time he laid eyes on her.
She was his. His to cherish, to love, to grow old with.
They belonged together and he’d be damned if he let a simple thing like an ocean between their countries stand in his way.
He had no idea how long the movie lasted, his mind a thoughtful whir as he hatched plans and sorted scenarios and envisaged their future, while the woman he wanted by his side forever sat cuddled into him, hypnotized by the movie, content for him to pass her drinks and snacks.
When the epic finally finished, she blinked like a drowsy cat, stretched and turned shining eyes to him.
“Wasn’t that fantastic?”
“Uh-huh.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me the ending.”
“The guy got the girl.” Ducking in for a swift kiss, he murmured, “My kind of movie.”
“You weren’t watching, were you?”
He shook his head, suddenly serious. “Only snippets. I was thinking.”
“About what?”
Jumping to his feet, he held out his hand to help her up. “Come on, let’s take a walk and I’ll tell you.”
Holding hands, they strolled toward the water’s edge, away from the tourists, away from the loud music spinning from a makeshift DJ brought in to entertain the post-movie crowd.
Goa had a different vibe to the rest of India, pulsed with energy at any time of day and night, and he’d miss it.
“So what’s this great secret?”
They stopped at the ocean’s edge, the waves gently lapping at their ankles and he steeled himself, about to make the most important speech of his life.
“I’m leaving on Saturday.”
“I know.”
Her soft tone wrapped around him like a wraith, filled with sorrow.
“I want you to come with me.”
Momentous words, blurted with the finesse of a charging elephant, as her jaw dropped. “Before you say anything, hear me out.”
Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding as if he’d never let go, willing her to believe in them, in him.
“I know we haven’t known each other long and you have a life here, but I think we can make a good life together in Australia. Once we’re settled, we can sponsor your aunt and—”
“She’ll never leave here.” Her eyes, wide and luminous in the moonlight, shone with the sudden sheen or tears. “I can’t leave here.”
“Why?”
“She depends on me. It’s how things are done here. Children look after their older relatives, it’s tradition.”
He understood, had seen the close family units on his travels over the past year, but had assumed Leela had other family.
“Maybe we can—”
“Don’t, please don’t.”
The tears spilled over, trickled down her cheeks and he hugged her to him, hating he’d made her cry, hating what appeared to be an unworkable situation.
“Shh…” He rocked her, smoothing her back, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the faint sandalwood scent he’d come to love.
He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t return to Melbourne without the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
When her sobs petered out, he slowly disengaged, tipped her chin up, looked into her eyes.
“I love you. And crazy as it sounds, I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Think I’m nuts?”
Her hand hovered between them, as if she wasn’t sure whether to touch him or not, before cradling his cheek.
“I think you’re incredible but I can’t leave.”
“There has to be a way we can make this work, dammit!”
She flinched at his outburst, dropped her hand and stepped away as if he’d struck her.
“Sorry, I’m just frustrated. I wish you could—”
“I can’t!”
Bristling with indignation, she glowed with an inner fire he’d never seen before and it made him want her even more.
“If you’re so hell-bent on us being together, why don’t you stay here? You’re a doctor, this country is crying out for good medicos.”
She warmed to her topic, her hands punctuating the air for emphasis, her expression suddenly alive as if she’d stumbled on the idea for the first time.
He hadn’t. He’d considered it as a viable option for all of two seconds before facing reality. He had to return, couldn’t turn his back on repaying a debt.
He held up his hands, imploring her to stop before he had to let her down any further.
“I can’t stay.”
“Why?”
He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to put his dreams ahead of her but if he didn’t tell her the truth now, he’d lose any chance of having her come with him, however slim.
“When I go back, I’m starting work for a major medical charity organization. They provide care for kids who can’t afford treatment. It’s a brilliant opportunity.”
He saw the confusion in her eyes, the hurt, that he was putting his career ahead of her, and he knew he had to tell her all of it.
“I had leukemia when I was in my teens. Like you, I was an orphan, lived in foster homes most of my life. This organization funded my treatment, saved my life.”
He closed his eyes, too easily conjuring up memories of the hospital, of watching kids he’d come to know, kids he liked, die around him one by one, while he lived.
Because of the charity organization and the special treatment they’d funded for him, which is why he couldn’t turn his back on them, couldn’t let more kids die because they didn’t have the opportunities he had.
“You feel you owe them.”
His eyes flew open, shocked she’d seen into his soul so easily. “Damn straight I do. It’s not fair that some people can pay the price for life while others can’t.”
She shrugged, pragmatic. “It’s the way of the world. You can’t save everyone.”
“I can try.”
His defensive response sounded fierce, fanatical, and he softened his tone. “There are too many underprivileged kids in Melbourne who need access to medical treatment and this organization provides it. I can help those who need it most.”
And ensure he never ended up poor again—could support himself, and a family. The family he’d never had, the family he desperately craved.
Her proud smile made him feel like a god. “You’re even more amazing than I thought.”
“It’s the cape and external underwear that tricks ’em every time.” He laughed at her puzzled frown. “Superman? Get it?”
His chuckles died as her curious gaze dropped to where his external underwear would be.
“I better add funnyman to incredible and amazing.”
“Amazing enough to leave Goa for?”
The amusement faded from her eyes, to be replaced by a sorrow echoing in his heart that there was nothing he could do to solve their dilemma.
“I can’t leave my aunt, turn my back on tradition, you can’t turn your back on what you know in here—” she placed a hand on his heart “—is right.”
Desperate, he gripped her upper arms, implored her to listen.
“There must be something we can do—”
“There isn’t.”
She wrenched out of his grasp, her face twisted in pain. “Please, if you love me, you have to let me go.”
The anguish in her tone shot an arrow straight through his heart and cleaved it in two.
Before he could react, she fled. Running across the sand, she dived into the crowd that swallowed her and as he followed, dodging people, slamming into a human wall of resistance, he realized he was fighting a losing battle.
Time to stop, rethink, replan.
This battle may be over but he was far from losing the war.
He loved Khushi, would never give up on her.
Now he had to convince her of that.
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