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.

I shook my head. "I'll stay here, dad. This is home."

"The offer still stands."

That night I didn't move, not even when my stomach grumbled in protest for food. I couldn't help but think over dad's words and the way they resonated with me, tugging at me. No, no. I was going to stay right here; I didn't need to go anywhere. Nothing was going to help. I'd be just fine in due time, and everything would die down soon enough.

***

I wore my pig black puffer jacket over my woollen turtle neck sweater as I waddled over to the mailbox. I went out drinking last night after my parents had left and my head was pounding.

I had asked for a day off from work today and thank God Amber was an angel enough to grant it.

God, it's cold out here. I pulled the coat over me tighter. The gloves covering my fingers didn't help; I could feel the iciness of the wind cutting through the fabric and wetting my skin.

The mailbox creaked as I lifted the top hood and grabbed out some envelopes. One stood out from the others. It was red, square-shaped, and had golden trimmings. I opened it right then and there, glancing around to see who had put it in there.

As my eyes fell on the peach pink card and the black font that was inked into it, my heart sank into the deepest pits of my stomach.

Claudia + Varun
Request the pleasure of your company to celebrate their wedding on
Saturday 20th August 2022
7'o clock in the evening

I wanted to punch someone. My gloved hands trembled holding the card right in front of me. They were getting married? Already? I guess they had been together for...what, four years now?
And now that I was out of the way, they could do whatever they wanted, like get married, clearly. In August as well, which was only a few months away. I tried to shove the card back into its now creased envelope when a flimsy paper fell out.

Grabbing it before it could drop onto the pebbled, gravelly ground, I flipped it over. In chicken scratch which I knew was Varun's, the note said:

We don't blame you if you don't show up, but both of us would like it if you did.

Both of them. Varun was a dick and Claudia didn't even have the fucking courage to look me in the face or even talk to me after that.

"Ha!" I accidentally snorted, grabbing the attention of a passerby who shot me a weird look. I ignored them and the tightening of my chest as I turned my attention back to the stupid note.

The fact that they thought I was so desperately hung over everything that happened—which, okay, I was but they didn't need to know that—made me pace up and down my driveway. Should I go? No, I wasn't going to go and show them how...how alone I was. If I showed up by myself they'd be laughing at me, I knew they would.

With a low growl, I allowed the redness I was seeing to rip the little note in half as well as the envelope. The card was much harder to rip but I did it, and the relief that floated through my now loose gut briefly was enough to calm me down.

But that didn't stop me from turning on my heels and storming back inside my house. The white-hot surge to destroy something flew through my veins. My eyes frantically bounced from one thing to another and landed on the pizza boxes and the takeout boxes. I grabbed the bin and slammed it to the floor. I grabbed the boxes that fell out, ripping them in half, not caring that my hands were turning sore with exertion.

The salt in my mouth from the tears mixed with the pure venom that escaped through my heavy breathing. It wasn't until everything was ripped into tiny squares floating around me that I fell back onto the kitchen floor.

Staring at the white ceiling allowed the cold to hit the exposed parts of my neck and calm me down. I didn't want to hurt anymore. The throbbing in my heart never stopped and it wasn't going to but I wanted it to. I just wanted the pain to go away. To leave me the fuck alone.

Get revenge, my mind whispered. Find another guy. Move on. I didn't want an actual boyfriend but I could ask someone to be my fake one, right? Like in all the books and movies that were out there now. I tried to imagine walking up to a stranger at a cafe...and immediately shook my head.

No, that never worked in real life. What if they called the cops on me for being a creep? That was the last thing I wanted to worry about.

I sighed. You know what, I was just going to go with what my mum suggested and get an arranged marriage. I was lonely. Spiralling into depression. It wasn't ideal but my mum would nag me until I died to get married and probably have a breakdown that I lied to her face when she was in the hospital.

Wallowing over Varun was a pain, anyway. And besides, maybe having a tamer guy with values and tradition around would be good for me. I mean, really, the only benefit for me would be that I wouldn't be lonely anymore and I would have my mum off my back for the rest of my life about this.

There wouldn't be love but at least there would be a companion.

And that was how my parents met, too, so surely they could find something for me.

"It could work," I breathed out, my chest contracting just at the thought.

God, it sounded so stupid and silly when I entertained it out loud. Did I really want to go through all of that? Waste my life away by tying the knot with a stranger just to fulfill my mum's wish and to show Varun and everyone else that pitied me that I was okay? Because I was lonely and I didn't want to be lonely anymore?

Fuck yeah, I did.