Page 235 - The World's Best Boyfriend

sober.
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ his father said. He held Dhruv’s arm,
firmly. ‘Sit,’ he said.

Dhruv sat down.
‘I really loved your mother.’
‘You sure did. It showed.’ Dhruv felt the fury find its roots again.

‘I did. I was in love with your mother from the first day I saw her,’ Dad said,
his eyes liquid. ‘But she was never in love with me.’
‘That’s so typical of you. Still shirking responsibility! Blaming her! That’s a

cheap shot, Dad. Even for you.’
‘Listen to me.’
‘Fine,’ said Dhruv, leaning far back into the chair, and looking outside the

window. The room depressed him.
‘We were really young. Our marriage was arranged by your grandparents and
we were supposed to fall in love. And I did.’ Dad sighed. ‘But your mom didn’t.

Not when we got married and not in the countless days we spent together. But
she never complained about it. She was always the good wife. At first, I really
tried hard to make her love me as much as I loved her but realized it doesn’t

work that way. You can’t force someone to be in love with you.’
‘So you gave up?’ asked Dhruv, exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

‘Yes, I did. It was hard not to. Years went by and it started making both of us
unhappy, her more than me. I thought things would change when we had you.’
‘Did they?’ asked Dhruv, leaning forward, obviously interested how his
conception was just a ruse to make his parents happier.

‘Your mother and I loved you more than life. You brought joy and love into
our lives. You were this little cute ball of happiness.’ Dad’s eyes lit up. ‘Those

years were the happiest for us, your mother and I. But slowly the sadness, the
lack of love crept in again. It took me eight years to realize your mother would
never love me. I realized I had to let her go, sooner or later.’ He shook his head,
a sad smile on his regretful face. ‘Can you pass the water?’

Dhruv poured out a glass and gave it to him. ‘What are you talking about?
You were married. How does anything else matter? You can’t just . . . ’

Dad started to smile. ‘You have to, Dhruv. You have to learn to let people go
for their happiness and for your own.’
‘So? What did you do?’