Chapters (64)
“Of course,” I say quietly. “Good night, Ma. Good night, Baba.”
“Good night, Myra. Remember what we told you.”
Like I could forget.
They hang up, and I set my phone down. It takes two seconds for tears to slip free from my eyes, and I start sobbing, burying my face in my hands.
Nothing I ever do is enough.
My door cracks open and Dadu comes inside, sitting on my bed and wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry, my dear,” she whispers, holding me tightly. “I wish they weren’t so hard on you.”
I can’t manage a reply, my cries muffled against her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault, Myra,” she says, stroking my hair. “I’ll talk to your dad when they get back. I know you’re just trying to help Alistair. If I thought he was a bad influence, I wouldn’t have let you go with him today, but he’s very sweet and he’s a good friend to you.”
“Dadu, I—I don’t know what to do,” I say, nearly choking on the words. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. I can’t—I’m not the daughter they want. I’m never going to be.”
“Oh, my darling,” Dadu murmurs, holding me even closer. There’s a pained expression on her face. “Don’t ever think that. You’re perfect as you are.”
“Not to them,” I say and burst into another round of tears. Dadu murmurs comforting words against my hair and keeps holding me until my sobs subside.
“Myra,” Dadu says, using her saree to wipe the remaining tears off my face. “No matter what, I want you to know I’m proud of you. You are enough. You are more than enough.”
However, she looks even more pained than before and it makes my own chest hurt. “Are you upset with me, too?”
“No,” Dadu says quickly, her expression fierce, but it subsides into something more melancholy. “I just wish I wasn’t failing you. Failing our family.”
“What? You could never,” I say, roughly scrubbing my face. “This isn’t your fault.”
Dadu’s mouth twists and she looks away. “Your Dada would be so sad to see this current state of affairs. All of you are going through so much, and there’s nothing I can do.”
“Dadu, it’s not your fault,” I say more firmly. She’s been my rock through this whole thing. I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly to get my point further across. My heart still throbs like an aching bruise, but this is more important. “I love you. Thank you.”
She kisses the side of my head, but her voice is somber when she says, “I love you, too.”