I nodded, agreeing that it was time to go before grabbing my jacket that was draped over the back of the chair. I removed my tie, undoing the top button of my light blue work shirt, and popped it into my jacket pocket. Picking up my briefcase, I shook Rishi’s hand. Wishing him luck for his date with Latika, I walked out into the night. Monsoon season was over, and the weather was beginning to become cooler, or as cool as a Mumbai night could be. On the ride to our usual meeting spot, I sent Sakshi a message to let her know I was on my way. This time, she did reply; there even seemed to be affection in her tone. I hopped off the bus feeling a little lighter about our meeting and saw her waiting for me outside our usual restaurant. I embraced her and gave her a light peck on the cheek, our usual greeting. I didn’t know if I was being paranoid, but I was sure I felt her body stiffen when I touched her.

‘Come, let’s walk a bit before dinner tonight,’ she said, taking my hand. We walked one block down, hand in hand, looking through the stalls, dodging night-time home-goers and beggars. The night air was thick with city smog, but I sensed something was hanging between us as well. On a quieter street, Sakshi turned to me.

‘Look, Ashray. There is no easy way to say this. We can’t see each other after tonight. I’m sorry.’ Her eyes were sad, too sad for a woman who didn’t care for her boyfriend.

‘I don’t understand,’ I muttered, unable to tear my eyes away from hers. Tears began to fall from her eyes, and I could see her breathing deeply, trying to control the emotions welling up inside her.

‘My parents don’t approve, Ashray. This is not what they have in mind for me. I just … I …’ she trailed off, trying to control her sobs. I pulled her into me, her head on my chest. I wanted to join her, wanted her to know my sorrow was as great as hers, but I couldn’t. My tears seemed stuck in my chest.

‘Surely I can explain it to your parents. My Maa can meet them, and we can start talking about getting married. I am sure that, given a chance, they will see that we are a perfect match.’ Her sobs became audible; I swallowed down my own.

‘It’s not that simple, Ashray,’ she said, pulling back from me. ‘They have already found me a husband. Hell! They have found me three husbands. I just need to choose one.’ I recoiled at the thought of her meeting with other men while we were dating.

‘I … I just don’t understand why you would agree to go out with me, knowing that your parents expected you to marry someone else.’