You're Invited(26)

The aunties’ chatter downstairs drifted up, Mrs. Fonseka’s voice the loudest and most assertive of them all, and I knew I would be safe for a few minutes at least.

I tiptoed down the hallway. Not a particularly easy feat with the wooden floors.

His door was closed, and I raised my arm up to knock but couldn’t bring myself to. I looked around for a sign, but there were no clocks. 10:38 on my own watch. Not great. Kaavi should be done getting ready any moment now. I’d better just head back to her room.

I was about to turn around but the door swung open.

Mr. Fonseka almost slammed into me, but I just managed to jump out of the way.

“Oh goodness, please excuse me,” he called out cheerfully, until his entire face changed when he realized who it was he had barreled into.

“Amaya? Is that you?”

“H-hi. Uncle. Sorry, I was—I was just . . .” but the words didn’t come.

“Did Fiona see you?”

“Y-yes. Downstairs.”

He ran his hand through his hair, which was much grayer than I remembered.

“Ah, I see. So she knows you’re here?”

I nodded.

“Come, come. Come inside.” He ushered me into his office. Looks like he wasn’t expecting me either. Why would Kaavi lie to me?

Unlike Kaavi’s room, I hadn’t been in Mr. Fonseka’s office very often. But I was in here the last time I was at this house—the moment where my life changed. I pressed my thighs together just remembering. I hadn’t been prepared for that much pain.

Unlike Kaavi’s room, nothing in here had changed. There was a large desk in the center of the room, with a framed sepia-toned portrait of a stern-looking gentleman, Mr. Fonseka’s father, hanging behind it. The walls were lined with bookshelves that held more framed photographs of Mr. Fonseka accepting various awards than actual books, and as always, everything felt very dusty.

He didn’t sit down. Instead, he turned to face me and spoke in a low voice.

“You know we had an understanding, Amaya. Why are you here?” His hand grazed my upper arm lightly, but he seemed to think better of it and tucked it away into the pocket of his linen trousers.

It wasn’t like I could tell him the truth. That I was here to make sure this wedding never happened.

“Kaavi invited me.” It was becoming increasingly obvious that Kaavi had pulled one over on all of us. But this was the simplest excuse, even if it did violate the terms of our agreement. It’s been five years—would they still hold me to that? “She asked that I come. I didn’t want to let her down.”

He sighed.

“But still. I would have thought you would’ve at least—”

He ran his hand through his hair again.

“I—I’m sorry. I should have checked. But I thought she would have cleared it with you before she invited me.” At least, that was what I was led to believe. I couldn’t imagine why Kaavi would do this. “I—I don’t know what—or how much—you’ve told her.”

He looked directly at me then. The same expression he had when I told him about the teacher who made a pass at me in school, or when I asked him what I should study in college. The same face he had five years ago when I promised to stay away from his family. From him. From her. For the rest of my life.

I blinked back tears. I was an idiot for coming. This was too much. I should have stayed away from their home. I should have figured out some other way to stop the wedding. Some other way that didn’t involve me dragging myself and Kaavi’s entire family through all the tears and pain from five years ago.

But something in his face softened when he saw me cry. He could never stand to see me sad. I guess that’s where all his troubles started in the first place.

He started to lift his hand, maybe to touch my arm again, but the door to his study burst open.

“Thaththi!” a little girl screamed, launching herself at Mr. Fonseka and wrapping her arms around his knees. A disheveled nanny followed behind.

“Sorry, sir. Duwagena awa sir ge kata handa ahunama.” She came running when she heard your voice.

But Mr. Fonseka didn’t seem to mind. He picked her up and swung her onto his hip. I was frozen on the spot. He didn’t meet my eye.

“Kohomada mage Nadia patiyata?” How’s my little Nadia doing?

“Thaththi, ada beach ekata yamuda?” Can we go to the beach today, Dad?

I turned toward the window, to give them some privacy. The moment was too tender for me to lurk around, a voyeur to a life that I could never have. It felt hard to breathe.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

“Thaththa, Amma wanted me to ask you whether I could take the BMW at four? The Merc has been put for a service, and I don’t know if I’ll have it back in—oh! You’re here.” This time it was Tehani who came barging into the study. The Fonseka’s middle daughter, who I’ve never been particularly close to. I don’t think she liked me taking up so much of Kaavi’s, and her family’s, time. I remember once, it was Mr. Fonseka’s birthday and they were meant to do a quiet family dinner. An anomaly, and only because Mrs. Fonseka had just finished throwing a huge gala for Fonseka Jewellers winning some award that year, and everyone was exhausted. Mr. Fonseka had flung his arms around the three of us—Kaavi, Tehani, and me—calling us his three girls and saying this was the best birthday ever, but Tehani had been so sulky when she realized I was coming too. She spent the whole evening glaring at me from behind her phone, and I heard her complaining to Mrs. Fonseka in the bathroom, although they both stopped talking the moment I went in.