Goosebumps rise on my flesh that have nothing to do with the dampness of my skin.
Thrown off guard, I manage to say, “Me, too. I, um. I’ve been very busy.”
“Too busy to shoot me a text?” Pravat’s tone is teasing, but I sense his underlying hurt.
“I just…I…” At a loss for words, I fall silent.
“Out of sight, out of mind?”
“You’re never out of my mind.” I clamp my mouth shut.Oh, my God, shut up, Rama!
The line’s silent so long, I look at the screen to make sure we’re still connected.
“Half-way there,” Pravat murmurs, his tone somewhere between longing and sadness. A tremble runs through me, and I suddenly want to be beside him so badly I could cry. But then he peps up, launching into something about his art, sounding so natural I wonder if I imagined what I heard before.
“I can’t wait to see everything you’ve done,” I tell him. He asks about my work, and before I know it, the sun’s much higher in the sky and a group of chattering women are approaching the pool.
Gathering my things, I walk toward the entrance. I’m still talking to Pravat when I enter Pete and Alex’s apartment, so I put him on speaker phone so I can introduce him. When they fall into a conversation about theater, I excuse myself to pull on some clothes.
“Someone came to his door,” Pete tells me when I return to find they’d disconnected with Pravat.
Hiding my disappointment, I nod and begin making a sandwich.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Alex says.
“He is,” I reply.
“He said he hopes you’re taking care of yourself.” Pete hands me the lettuce from the refrigerator.
I glance at him. “I am.”
“Working too many hours and hardly sleeping or eating isn’t taking care of yourself.”
“I hope you didn’t tell him that,” I say, appalled.
“Well, you won’t listen to me.”
I cluck my tongue. “Now he’s going to worry.” I don’t want that. He spent years worrying about his family.
“I also told him you never have any fun,” Pete says unrepentantly. “Last time you visited, you went to the clubs with us.”
“Last time I visited, I wasn’t working,” I retort, sitting down at the table with my plate. “I shouldn’t have let you talk to him.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Pete says teasingly. “Alex and I have been worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” I say through a bite of my sandwich. I might as well be eating cardboard for all the taste it has.
“You’re having nightmares,” Alex says, and Pete gives him a quelling look before turning to me.
“We’ve just heard you a couple of times.”
“Sorry,” I say, embarrassed.
Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands, I suddenly realize how exhausted I am. By the time I finish eating and lie down on the bed, my eyes are drooping. Huddling under the comforter, I sink into a nap that lasts half the day.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: Pravat
After my phone conversation with Rama, time seems to drag, the days passing with infinite slowness. What Rama’s cousin told me about him concerns me. As I was afraid would happen, my stubborn friend is working too hard and not sleeping or eating well. If Rama were here, I would take him his favorite meal and coax him out for some fun—maybe hiking or to a movie. But he’s thousands of miles away, and I’m helpless to do anything for him.