Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(63)

“I think with the careers we’ve chosen, and some of the pressures we feel in our community, burnout is a real problem. But burned out or not, I’ll still fight for my patients.”

“I’d fight for my clients, too,” Kareena said. “And my family and friends. I’d even fight for the things that mattered to my mother. Her memories.”

“That’s a lot of fighting, Rina. Do you ever get tired of doing it alone?”

“Yes, but some people are worth the burnout.”



Kareena tapped on Prem’s name in her phone and closed her eyes as she pressed her phone to her ear.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm and intimate. “I’m a few minutes from the train station. Are you there yet?”

She shook her head, then tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Why was this hard? This shouldn’t be difficult. They were just messing around. Getting to know each other. Exploring a, what was it? A connection.

“Prem,” she said, her voice croaking. “I-I’m not coming tonight.” She desperately wanted to be with him, to talk to him, to tell him how fucked-up it was that she was doing all this. And that desperation for Prem was exactly why she couldn’t go.

There was a pause. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that—”

She’d cut herself off right before she could tell him that she was supposed to help her sister with wedding planning. No. No, she wasn’t going to lie to him.

“Rina, honey? What is it?”

“I . . . I can’t tonight,” she said. “My father met with the real estate agent, and I realized how little time we have. I need to at least try—”

“You don’t have to!” he burst out. “You don’t have to date anybody. That’s the whole point! Just be practical for once, Kareena.” His voice was taking on an edge. The sound of a car horn echoed in the background.

She could feel her own anger beginning to surface. “I don’t think it’s fair for you to judge me when you’re obviously biased.”

“I’m not judging you for saying no,” he said.

She had to pause at his strange choice of words. “But you’re still judging?”

“Kareena, maybe you haven’t found love yet because your understanding of love doesn’t exist. Your mother died when you were really young. Are you sure what you remember is love between your parents, or just a few choice memories of happiness because your mom had you?”

The question was like a knife digging below her rib cage. “Just because your parents have a shitty love marriage doesn’t mean that love marriages can’t happen, Prem. That they can’t sustain a relationship.”

“And just because your parents had a great love marriage doesn’t mean that love kept them together for so long, Kareena.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against the seat back. “Look, I’m calling to cancel because I need to figure out what to do. I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again. If I agree with your plan, it’ll make it a hundred times harder for me when we’re done. You know what desi men can be like. Hell, men in general! And the desi community? They don’t forget anything, and they’ll remember that not only did I publicly humiliate myself on YouTube, but Dr. Dil and I didn’t work.”

“Who cares what people think, Rina? None of them matter!”

“No, none of them matter, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to subject myself to more ridicule when I’m already so tired from fighting.”

The line went quiet.

“I’m going to Veera’s. It’ll give us some time to cool off, too.”

“I don’t need to cool off,” Prem replied. His voice was calmer now. “Not when I know exactly what I want, and you want the same thing, but you’re too stubborn to see it. Call me when you’re ready.”

With those final words, he hung up the phone.

Kareena had to stop herself from calling him right back. Instead, she sent a text message to Veera letting her know that she was heading her way.

As the car raced down the Jersey Turnpike, Kareena’s argument with Prem circled her mind. Damn it. She was going to miss him.





Chapter Twenty

Prem




Prem had never been the type to reach for his phone, but he kept checking his messages in hopes of getting something from Kareena. He’d scrolled through his notifications before his show and then again whenever he had a commercial break. His producer shot him a funny look halfway through his newest segment, but Prem didn’t care. This woman made him irrational, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He stood at his marker and waited for the signal that the playback reel was over, while the heavy weight of his cell sat snugly in his breast pocket. “As you can see, takotsubo cardiomyopathy, or broken heart syndrome, is really an extreme stress response. This is prevalent in women, especially South Asian women, who are often younger when they get broken heart syndrome than other races and ethnicities, which means that we as a community need to do better in providing the support women need to thrive.”

His producer, Varsha, began counting down, and Prem closed out his show, rattling off his script as quickly as it appeared on the teleprompter. “Tune in next week, when we discuss how communication can lead to positive health benefits. Thanks again for watching.”