The Direction of the Wind: A Novel(60)

“I understand. You can take your time doing what you need to do here, and we can see where things stand after that. My parents are eager to marry me off, so maybe they will have someone new waiting when I return home,” he jokes.

“It would not be the strangest thing,” Sophie says with a smile, knowing it would not be unusual at all.

Marriages in their community are arranged practically overnight. Her own parents had known each other only four days before marrying. In the end, maybe that had been the problem for Nita.

He walks her back to the hostel and then hails a taxi to his hotel near the airport. As Sophie stands on the street, waving him off, she wonders if she will ever see him again. This man who is meant to be her husband has left a strong impression on her, and, in this moment, it seems less crazy for her to become his wife. She can’t believe that he did not turn away from her in anger upon learning the truth. Most men she had grown up with would have, and she can’t say she would have blamed them. Perhaps it is because Kiran and his family have spent time outside of India that he has a different perspective on life and marriage. That he wants to be with someone who isn’t docile and demure is unheard of. Sophie and her friends had spent their lives grooming themselves to be the perfect doting wives because that is what society expects of them, and she had never challenged it. She had never considered that there could be any other way. It was not until she left her comfortable world last week that she started questioning whether there could be a different life and different path. Nita certainly had. And she is a part of Sophie, so now Sophie questions everything she has ever desired for her future.





38


NITA


1999


Nita stared at Simon, whose eyes were searching hers for answers. His expression implored her to speak, to know if he had offended her. Instead, she leaned forward until her lips were on his. After a second, she felt his shoulders relax, and he took her face in his hands.

She knew this was wrong, but in that moment, it didn’t feel wrong, and the wine kept her mind free of the usual thoughts and consequences that would have filled it. Kissing Simon was different from kissing Mathieu. Simon was tender rather than forceful in the way he approached her. It was almost like those first kisses she and Mathieu had shared outside Julien’s studio. The night everything changed for her. She was surprised by how comfortable she felt on the couch with Simon, their arms around each other. She and Mathieu had not been like that for so long now.

The spilled wine on the floorboards was long forgotten as their breathing grew heavier and their arms began to clutch more tightly around each other. Simon’s shoulders and chest were broader and heavier than Mathieu’s skinny frame. Nita felt as if she were holding on to a strong board, and she felt protected, having it so close to her. Without her even realizing, her fingers had moved under his sweater and were sliding up the sides of his torso. He pulled slightly from her again, searching her eyes.

Her vision wasn’t entirely clear, given all the alcohol.

“Are you . . . ?” he began.

Her cold fingers were warming against his skin. She nodded and leaned in to kiss him, her hands now moving from his sides to his chest, and she felt him inhale sharply. With hesitant gestures, he moved his hands from around her back to her sides, staying on the outside of her sweater, and then eventually to her chest, cupping her breasts with both hands. It was her turn to take a quick breath. They stayed like that, kissing and exploring each other’s upper bodies with their hands. Nita’s pulse was racing at the anticipation of feeling his skin closer to hers, and she leaned back and pulled her sweater over her head so that now the only barrier between his hands and her was her simple black bra. She tossed the sweater behind her and pushed her body against him until she was lying on top of him.

They continued searching each other’s mouths with their tongues while their hands roamed softly across each other’s bodies. When her fingers rested against the fabric of his jeans, he broke from her and propped himself up on his elbows.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He kissed her forehead. “Nothing. But I don’t want to do this on this old couch like teenagers.” He swooped her up in his arms, carried her to the bedroom, and then gently placed her on the covers of the bed.

As he stood over her, he asked again, “Are you sure?”

She nodded and pulled him toward her. Their remaining clothes flew off, and he took her in his arms and brought her under the covers before resuming his task of covering her entire body with kisses and gentle caresses. Nita had never before felt this kind of arousal, where her body was aching to be closer to his but also not wanting what he was currently doing to ever stop. She wanted to remain in those moments, where she felt both desired and safe. Everything about his movements felt like he was in control and wanted to give her whatever she needed.

She willed him to continue but he paused suddenly, frozen. Frustration crept across his face, and he buried his head in a pillow.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t have any condoms.”

She didn’t want him to stop. She and Mathieu did not use condoms. When she had once suggested it, based on Dao’s advice, he’d said he didn’t like the way they felt and had trouble maintaining his erection with them. She hadn’t pressed because she was unfamiliar with them, too, having been only with Rajiv and Mathieu and not having used them with either.