BooksBarbecue
Back Side by Side Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Half Title Page
  3. SIDE by SIDE
  4. Dedication Page
  5. Epigraph
  6. Part I: Fall
  7. 1.
  8. 2.
  9. 3.
  10. 4.
  11. 5.
  12. Part II: Crawl
  13. 6.
  14. 7.
  15. 8.
  16. 9.
  17. 10.
  18. 11.
  19. 12.
  20. 13.
  21. 14.
  22. 15.
  23. 16.
  24. 17.
  25. 18.
  26. 19.
  27. 20.
  28. 21.
  29. 22.
  30. 23.
  31. 24.
  32. 25.
  33. 26.
  34. 27.
  35. 28.
  36. 29.
  37. 30.
  38. 31.
  39. Part III: Rise
  40. 32.
  41. 33.
  42. 34.
  43. 35.
  44. 36.
  45. 37.
  46. 38.
  47. 39.
  48. 40.
  49. Acknowledgements
  50. About the Author

“We had fun, didn’t we?” she asks Sunil. “There was at least something good about the last day we spent together, right?” She waits for a reply. Hears the squawk of seagulls. Grows impatient with his silence. “You could at least send me a sign, like, if a seagull shits on me, that mean ‘no.’ That sort of thing.” The seagulls squawk and squawk. “Come on, Bear,” she pleads, weakly. “Haunt me a little. I promise not to faint.”

She starts walking again. At the lighthouse, she stands on the pebbled shore, watching as she and Sunil skip stones while nestled in an easy silence. She stuffs her hands into her pockets. Feels the smooth thread of the rakhi, and winces, as though it has transformed from an object of protection into an object of punishment. She drops her gaze to the rocks.

“I see everything so clearly now.” She squeezes the rakhi tighter, wishing the barbs she imagines were real. “Can you forgive me?”

She holds her breath for a sign: a gust of wind, a rainbow, a thunderbolt. She would even settle for a milky splat of bird shit on the top of her head. Anything.

“Please, Sunil.”

Anything at all.

“Please.”

But he doesn’t come to her.

Anchor pulls at her insides.

You know why he won’t speak to you, it says in a flat, unwavering tone. He blames you. You know this. You agree with him.

I just—

You deserve this….

You deserve worse.

Kavita drops to her knees, the way she had yesterday, after the police left them with their fresh grief. The rocks beneath her shins hurt. She welcomes the hurt. She knows the hurt is all she deserves.

After a little while, she notices a dark blue stone to the right of her knees. Weathered smooth and oval, a natural worry stone. She picks up the striking pebble, and without thinking, starts rubbing it with her thumb.

“Dark blue,” she mutters. Like the meaning of Sunil’s name. She clutches the stone to her chest.

He might’ve touched this one. Her heart beats quicker with the thought.

Yes, she tells herself.

He did.

He touched this one.

She caresses the stone with reverence, pressing it to her lips, as if it still carries the memory of her brother’s hand.

As she rises to her feet, she drops the stone into her pocket, where it slides next to the crimson thread.

4.