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Sarfaraz pinches the bridge of his nose, and when he drops his hand, all the anger and tension has left his face. “Maya, you’ve had a string of bad luck, especially in love. Do you really think it’s because bad things just happen to you? Or is it because you’re already so convinced that only bad things can happen to you that you just accept it?” He grabs my arms, giving them a light squeeze. “Look. No one knows better than I do the pain of loving someone who ends up leaving you,” he starts, and for the first time since we met, he allows all the raw emotion burning him up to flood his features. Anguish sears his eyes. Agony ripples across his cheeks. His lashes are wet, clumping them together. Pain, whole and unbridled, fills every inch of his face. “But being here the last couple of days, seeing my family again, seeing your family... It’s made me realize how much I was missing love in my life. I’ve been wandering around with an emptiness in my soul. I thought I could live without love, that I was better off without it, but I was wrong.” He uses two fingers to tilt my chin up. “If I can admit that love is worth paying the price of pain, then you can, too. Pain is always going to be a part of the package when it comes to love, Maya. You can’t miss out on it just because you’re scared.”
I stare up at him in utter disbelief. If you told me a week ago that The Jerk sitting next to me on a plane would be giving me a speech about how love is worth it, I would have laughed until I choked. But now, looking into his deep brown eyes, eyes that I’ve found so much comfort in, that light me up whenever I look into them, I can only bury my face into his chest.
Sarfaraz stumbles back, but he quickly regains his composure and holds on to me tightly. He presses his face into my neck, and I feel him shudder against my body. I reach up and cling to his jacket, fisting the material. I expect my breaths to come out in heavy sobs, but to my surprise, my tears are silent.
After what feels like only a minute but forever at the same time, I slowly pull my face away from him. I tilt my head back, and Sarfaraz dips his chin. Our lips are so incredibly close; I would only have to push up to my tiptoes, or he would only have to lower his chin for our mouths to meet. It’d be the easiest thing to move forward, to forget everything that keeps us apart.
Easy in theory, but cruel in practice.
Sarfaraz curls a damp strand of hair behind my ear, and I twist the material of his jacket between my fingers. My heart stutters, and the words spill out before I can stop them. “If you can give me one reason...” I start “...only one, why I shouldn’t marry him...” my voice drops “...I won’t.”
Sarfaraz’s chest stills, his fingers freezing over the shell of my ear. He searches my face, though I don’t know what he’s looking for. He moves his fingers to my chin, runs his thumb along my lower lip. Just when I think he’s about to kiss me, he says, “You should marry him. Get your independence and live how you want to.”
I drop my chin. I don’t see his face as he lets go of me, as I take a step back from his embrace. When I look up, I won’t be filled with disappointment. I’ll be stronger. I’ll be okay.
I tilt my face up and force my chest to cool, my breath to calm, my tears to stop. Sarfaraz’s face is undecipherable. His fingers clutch the handle of his suitcase. “Where are you going to go?” I ask. “It’s late.”
“I’ll find some hotel for the night,” he responds. “Shouldn’t be hard.”
“And tomorrow?”
“I’ll quietly leave on a flight home.”
I grind my teeth. “Okay.”
Sarfaraz rubs his fingers together, and at the last second, he extends his hand to me. “Good luck with my brother. I know he’s going to make you happy. And I hope that you can accept that happiness someday.”
I don’t know how many goodbye handshakes I’ve exchanged with Sarfaraz. Every time I’ve said goodbye to him, we somehow end up crossing paths again one way or another. But I have a feeling that this time, the goodbye to what we shared will be permanent. The next time we see each other, we’ll be in-laws.
Drinking in a steadying breath, I place my hand in his. I picture him pulling me in, wrapping his arms around me, kissing me until I can’t think anymore.
But all he does is gently shake twice. Then he lets go. “Well. Khuda hafiz, then.”
“Khuda hafiz,” I reply, my words as numb as the rest of me.
He grabs his suitcase again, then puts his back to me. He steps past the gate and heads toward the back of the Uber to put his stuff away.
I stand there, staring at his retreating form, wanting to call him back, but I push the urge down. I watch him open the trunk, put his suitcase in, and then walk to the back door. He briefly hesitates, gripping the handle. He looks over at me. “I’ve been meaning to say something,” he starts.
My face brightens. “About what?”
“Your laws,” he explains, and that light dims again. “I know you say that you use them to make sense of the world...but that’s what you did as a kid. You’re an adult now. Maybe...maybe some laws are meant to be broken, if it’s going to help you grow.”
I blink to keep my tears from falling. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Right.” A storm of emotions brews in his eyes, ranging from pain to longing to regret, but he gives one final wave before he slides into the car.
Once his car rounds the corner, once I’m sure he’s gone, I head back inside. I grab the dirty clothes that I dropped on the floor in the hallway, then head to my room to put them in the laundry basket. I don’t bother turning the light on; I just go inside and dump the clothes in the corner. I head for the door again but stop in my tracks when I notice something on my dresser that wasn’t there before.
It’s the snow globe I bought Sarfaraz in Switzerland. The one that I snuck into his suitcase and hoped he’d see when he returned home and unpacked. The one that I hoped he’d look at every now and then and remember our impromptu trip. That I hoped would make him remember me.
My heart falls from my chest to my feet. Slowly, I reach out and pick up the globe. The tiny flecks of fake snow immediately swim around in the dome, showering the happy couple inside and providing a romantic background for them.
First, I thought that the little man and woman inside were happy, that the vibrant colors and the breathtaking backdrop provided them with the perfect scenery for a perfect life. Then I wondered if they were sad. If one of them was cheating on the other, if they were hiding their pain behind artfully hand-painted grins.
Now I know the truth. I don’t know what they’re feeling. They’re putting on the faces of a joyful couple, but no one truly knows what’s going on behind the scenes. The smiles so lovingly crafted on their mouths could be faker than the snow in their tiny world, or they could be realer than the glass that encircles them. Their gorgeous backdrop prevents them from living in the real world, but it also protects them from the harsh reality that those of us on the outside have to live in. Maybe they chose each other. Maybe they didn’t. But no matter what, this is their reality.
I step back until my spine hits the wall. I cradle the snow globe carefully as I slowly slip down to the floor. I stare at them the whole time. The man and woman living in their perfect bubble. I let out a quiet sob, then press the snow globe to my chest as tears roll down my face.
