The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,52
Indian community shunned me. They judged my choice and found me lacking. And in those days, locals weren’t so welcoming of foreigners, so being cast out of my social circle left me with no friends, no family apart from Sindhu, and treated like a leper by the people I’d come to depend on.”
“That’s why you invited all our neighbors over for meals.” Samira squeezed her mom’s hands, hating the overt pain evident in every crease of her lined face. “I always wondered why you interacted with virtual strangers more than the aunties. And we didn’t socialize with them much beyond the big functions.” Samira hung on tight to her mom’s hands. “I thought you were introverted. I wish I’d been more observant and less self-absorbed.”
“I didn’t want you to see my pain.” Kushi managed a wan smile. “You were my world, and I didn’t want you to suffer their judgment like I did. Love isn’t enough in the face of ostracism like that, and while I adored your dad, I didn’t want that for you. It is easier, culturally, if marriage partners come from the same background, and that’s why it is preferable you have an Indian husband.”
While she understood her mom’s rationale, she didn’t agree with it, because Samira had felt just as isolated as her mom growing up. She’d watched the aunties dote on one another’s children at functions and always wondered why she’d been on the outside. Her school had been multicultural, and she’d craved friends with a mixed Indian background like her, but the aunties’ daughters had virtually ignored her. It all made sense now, but she needed to couch her objections carefully.
“I understand you’re coming from a position of caring, Mom, but things are different now. Intermarrying is common, especially here in Australia and the US.”
Kushi’s eyebrows rose, and shock made her reel back. “You’re thinking of marrying this Australian man you barely know?”
Samira sighed. “No, but I told you about him so you understand once and for all that I won’t bow to expectations again like I did the first time around.”
Kushi’s expression fell further, if that were possible, as she released her hands. “But I thought you were happy with Avi. You seemed so in love.”
“Honestly? I think I was more in love with the concept of being in love rather than any real, deep-seated emotion for Avi.” Samira shrugged, as if how far she’d fallen for Avi meant little when in fact she’d been gutted when their marriage fell apart. “I wanted the Bollywood fairy tale, and I thought I’d got it. But being pushed toward Avi all the time, having you wax lyrical about his many good traits even before I’d met him, built him up in my head so it almost seemed inevitable I’d fall for him.”
“You are still blaming me.” Tears filled Kushi’s eyes, and Samira’s throat tightened with emotion.
“No, though I have to admit I did for a long time, and that’s a major reason why I stayed away for so long. But I understand now. You did it from a place of genuine caring, not wanting me to go through what you did.”
Ironically, she had anyway, as the Indian community had looked down on her for divorcing Avi almost as if it had been her fault. Her new start in LA had a lot to do with feeling alienated within her community, and she hadn’t looked back. So why did her mom think she’d welcome being dragged back into all that traditional expectation rubbish now?
“I hope you understand, Mom, there’s no future with Manish beyond friendship, and you need to let me live my life the way I want to and with whoever I choose to live it with.”
Kushi visibly deflated, her shoulders slumping, her torso appearing to fold in on itself, as if all hope had been driven from her. “I don’t understand, Samira, but I will respect your wishes.”
“Thanks—”
“But you need to know I wasn’t joking earlier when I said love can grow from friendship, so I will continue to hope you see sense and pursue a relationship with that lovely Manish.”
Samira bit back a laugh. Of course her mom wouldn’t give up. But for now, with their revelations and some kind of acceptance, it would have to do.
Twenty-Four
Rory arrived for the audition thirty minutes early. Interesting that the small, nondescript studio tucked away in the back streets of South Melbourne held the key to his future. More to the point, the future of those