Places We Will Go -- (Under construction)

Chapter 3(b)

"Here." I feel someone's warm hand on my arm, a touch I stiffen to. "Come."

Prakash pulls me behind him as he shoves the crowd aside with his shoulders and elbows. He even berates some of them who are unyielding. Their morbid curiosity, too high.

I feel like vomiting. That warm coffee I had earlier threatens to come back up.

We squeeze through the crowd, towards yelling voices and among honks of impatient traffic wanting to get home, accidents be damned.

Dani. The image of him before the car hurtling his way pops back into my mind.

"Mind your bloody language." Prakash barks back the few people foully opposing our efforts to get to Dani. "This is his wife, so back up asshole!"

Wife. That word wedges a knife in my heart. I want to be his wife... but did I cause this crash? We weren't even supposed to meet today, but I'd insisted. I had wanted to see his face. Yet, I can't force myself to look at the centre we've come into. I can't look at... him...

"Prakash?" I tug at his arm, unable to look anywhere toward Dani... the car... or the people yelling. "Is he?"

Prakash peers over my shoulder. I can't tell from his expression what he sees.

I start to shiver. I don't know why. Maybe this is shock? "Is he... okay?"

Prakash squeezes my hand and nods. "Look."

"I can't."

"Look," he says again, coaxing me to turn around. I hate it. I hate it when he turns me around gently by my shoulders.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment until I hear the familiar voice float our way. Dani!

I look at the mess in front of me. Red and yellow roses are strewn across the dusty asphalt, the car stands still with its headlights still on, its driver standing over my hunewala, my fiancé, the man I was going to kill myself for being an hour and fifteen minutes late, who's sat up on the road rubbing his leg. A leg that doesn't look right to me. His shirt's dirty, and his face has a few grazes on it from where he hit the road I suppose, but he looks okay considering.

"Oh my god." I breathe out in relief. "He's okay."

"His leg doesn't look okay though," Prakash mumbles beside me.

Legs can be fixed. That is the least of my worries. He's okay. Dani is okay.

Speaking of Dani. He turns to me then and flashes me one of his nervous smiles. "Sorry, I'm late."

I stare at him and then at the driver, who's still blaming Dani for the accident... and I suppose he's not wrong. A lot of people jaywalk in Nepal. It's our normal. And Dani did walk out without checking, without being careful. Argh. I could kill him.

"Don't smile at me!" I cross my arms, trying to contain the horror and relief I feel. Trying to contain my tears.

"I think my leg's broken," Dani says, as a matter of fact, his face contorting in pain.

"You ran in front of my car!" the driver yells. "I'm not paying for this, mate. No way I'm paying..."

I could have guessed this would happen. It often does in Nepal. If someone hits you, they have to foot the bills. "It's okay," I say, finally moving towards Dani, ready to throttle him myself. I kneel before him, my heart still in my throat, and I smack his arm. "How could you be that stupid? Herdai naheri, you just walked out?"

"I was too busy staring at a beautiful thing." He smiles up at me and it melts some of my heartaches.

"Really? You think this is the time to flirt?"

"It's the best time to flirt... make the most of life, in the jaws of death." He winches as he reaches out to touch my face.

I slap his hand away as the crowd disperses. The driver still mumbling he won't pay. I turn to the man. "You don't have to pay. Just drop this idiot of mine and me at the hospital. Thank you."

The driver narrows his eyes. "That's all?"

"That's all."

"That's all?" Dani too asks.

"You're okay and that's all that matters..." I say, wrapping his arm around my neck. "But you better hope this isn't a terrible break 'cause you're hobbling to the mandap on crutches if you have to. I'm not pushing our wedding back, whether you're at death's grip or not."

"Here." Prakash rushes to aid my efforts to move Dani to the driver's car. It's the least the asshole could do.

"Oh, shall we get some iced coffee while we're here?" Dani grunts as we pick him up between us. I struggle. How heavy is he? Damn, the man is solid. "Seriously. You want coffee right now?"

"Do you know how many tampos I had to hop to get here for that damn coffee?"

I stop, ready to drop him back on the ground. "You came here for the coffee and not me?"

Around us, the traffic that has begun to flow, like water finding an alternate route, beeps at us to keep moving.

"Of course. Why else would I come?" He gives me a sheepish wink. "All men want coffee."

Argh, I can kill this man if I didn't love him! "Uhuh. Fine, next time, go drink coffee alone. Maybe Prakash will keep you company."

Poor Prakash looks at us as if he never wants to see us again.