When Dimple Met Rishi
Page 65

Dimple nodded, like she got that. “But weren’t you too late to apply for admission?”
He rubbed a hand through his hair and forced himself to hold her gaze. “Leo Tilden spoke to them. They’re big fans of his, so . . .”
“So he e-mailed you?” That big grin was back, but then she tamped down on it again, cheeks flushing a deep burgundy, and looked away. “That’s great.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Dimple looked at Rishi. “For what?”
He was still looking at her in that unfathomable way. His honey eyes were speaking volumes, but she was too afraid to guess what they were saying. “For sending him my pictures. He e-mailed me a couple of weeks ago. He was actually the one who helped me show Pappa how important this is to me. And he helped bolster my courage so I could take this leap. That was an incredible thing you did for me. And I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I didn’t see a lot of things.”
Did he mean . . . ? Was he talking about . . . ? No, of course not. Dimple blinked, her throat tight. “It’s okay. It would’ve been a disservice to the world if you hadn’t pursued it, you know?”
He smiled, a gentle, soft thing like fading light. “And what about you and your app?”
“Jenny’s been incredible. We’re nearing completion; maybe another month or two.” She adjusted her glasses. “Thank you for doing that for me. I don’t think I was very grateful at the time, and I’m sorry too.”
Rishi nodded slowly, sadly. “Maybe we were both too caught up with other things we needed to sort through.” He took a deep breath. “What are you doing here, by the way?”
Dimple flushed and looked away, hands tightening around the iced coffee cup. “Nothing,” she said quickly. Then she took a breath and tried again. She’d come all this way. She’d wanted a chance to make this right. Well, this was it. This was her chance. Maybe Rishi didn’t feel the same way anymore, but she still owed him an apology. “Actually, the truth is, I, um . . . I went to the airport first. I thought you’d be there.”
Rishi’s heart began to trip along in his chest. She’d gone to the airport to find him? “I wasn’t there,” he said, stupidly.
Dimple smiled a little. “Yeah, I see that. You weren’t going to MIT after all.”
“But why . . . why did you want to find me?” he asked, his breath speeding up. He tried to calm his pulse and was only marginally successful.
“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.