When Dimple Met Rishi(112)

"I . . ." She swallowed, an audible gulping sound. She looked into his eyes. "I . . . made a mistake, Rishi." Laughing a little nervously, she held out the iced coffee. "And if you want to throw this at me, I'll totally understand." Then, softly but firmly, she added, "I was a total idiot. I love you." There was a pause, because Rishi couldn't think of a single thing to say. His brain had iced over or overheated or something. "I get it if it's too late," Dimple hurried to add. "I just wanted to say I was sorry. And that, you know, I should never have said all those things to you. I was afraid, and . . ." She shook her head and looked away, biting her lip like she was afraid she might cry.

Was this real life? Was this really happening? Surely this was a dream. . . . Rishi pinched his forearm, hard. "Ow!"

Dimple frowned and looked back at him. "What the heck are you doing?"

Rishi shook his head a little, still utterly in shock. "Wait, but . . . but I texted you from the lobby of your dorm. And you never texted me back."

Dimple looked startled. "I . . ." Then she hit her forehead with an open palm. "My phone fell off my seat while I was driving, and I couldn't get to it, so I left it. It's on vibrate, so I didn't even hear it. And when I got here, I was in a hurry to see this place, and I totally forgot." She smiled suddenly, big and wide and bright, as if she'd just realized what he'd said. "Wait. You waited for me in the lobby of my dorm? Why?"



       
         
       
        

Rishi stepped toward her, his heart pounding like it was trying to make an escape. He circled his arms around her waist. "Because, Dimple Shah, I am stupidly, idiotically, annoyingly in love with you. You were right about so many things. I was afraid. I was terrified of doing what I wanted and of hurting my parents. I was carrying this huge weight on my shoulders without even realizing it-without even needing to. You've made me braver. It's like you have this paintbrush, dipped in brilliant mauves and teals and golds, and you just totally redid my monochromatic life. I need you; I need your paintbrush." He pushed a shaky hand through his hair, terrified and exhilarated and breathless. "Wow. I'm not even sure if that made any sense."

Dimple tipped her head back farther and smiled up at him in a way that made his heart do some very interesting things. "It makes total sense. I was the same way. I said you were cowardly, but I was just as terrified, Rishi." She shook her head, sunshine glinting on her glasses. "I was so afraid of going down the same path as my parents, of ending up in the same domestic life, that I forgot to consider one thing: This is our life. We get to decide the rules. We get to say what goes and what stays, what matters and what doesn't. And the only thing I know is that I love you. It hurts too much to be apart from you." She stopped, her eyes glittering with tears.

Rishi breathed deeply, the loneliness and the doubt and the brilliant pain of the last month finally dissipating. "Same," he whispered. And then, louder, "I'm sorry it took me the rest of the summer to realize it and come after you. But I'm here now. You're here now. So what do you say we do this the right way this time around?"




Dimple grinned, her ears pounding with the rhythm of a thousand Bollywood love songs. "Yes, please."

And she closed the gap between their lips.