I nodded. Clear indication she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Noted.
“I don’t need a man or a house or a family to be fulfilled.”
“Of course.”
“Just like buying a house, I have standards. Why waste the time and energy and money on anything less? I’m not going to buy a place just because society or family says I should, or any reason aside from knowing it’s the one, the house that makes me happy and makes me excited to go home every night. Similarly, I want a man who does the same and makes me feel loved.”
“You’ve never felt loved before?”
“My exes have said they loved me, but it was more that they really, really liked me. I want…romance; unbridled passion would be nice.”
“Same thing Sejal said.” I spoke before thinking.
“I mean, look at you. Why did she expect you to be something you’re not?”
My chest spasmed. Talk about a hard-hitting jab.
“Oh, no. I don’t mean…Sunny.” Bane swallowed her words and gnawed on her lower lip. “That was insensitive of me.”
“It’s true.”
“But you’re not that guy, and that’s okay.”
“Yet you want what she wanted.”
Bane shrugged. “I don’t mean flowers and dates and candles and parties and vacations. I want to feel like I’m meant for him, and he’s meant for me. Like rom-coms.”
I eyed the yellow book haphazardly left on the foot of her lounge chair. “Rom-coms are cheesy and unrealistic.”
“Rom-coms remind me of what real love can be. Not simply feeling adequate in a relationship, but feeling amazing, thriving, belonging. Maybe that’s not the norm, but no one should have to settle for something because it’s common. I’m not dating anyone because I’m not settling for anything less. But I wouldn’t force anyone to be that way. Defeats the purpose.”
“Tell me what you want.”
She watched me for a second before calmly replying, “I want hugs from behind.”
Now I was the one waiting for her to go on, to know more.
“Kisses on the forehead. Little things to show that he cares and thinks of me. Texts or calls during the day to tell me dumb jokes. When he knows I’m not feeling well and brings me something to cheer me up. Sees my social anxiety and takes action.”
Ah, so I’d guessed correctly. Bane did have social anxiety.
“Looks at me like there’s no one else. Makes me feel alive, happy to be around him, miss him when we’re apart. Someone who misses me when he’s gone, like really, truly, deeply misses me. Someone who makes my stomach lurch, my skin tingle, my toes curl.”
“That’s impossible. What the hell are you going to do with curled toes?”
She glared at me.
“Continue. Please.”
“Someone who helps with cooking and cleaning because he knows I’m not his maid. Who holds conversations like an adult and does not throw tantrums or make assumptions. Someone who supports my career ambitions.”
“Even if it takes time away from couple things?”
She nodded. “Because I would support him if he wanted to do something to become better or change course to be happier, fulfilled. We both need growth.”
I mulled over her words. “So…let’s say if we were dating and I chose to study new coding languages instead of going to a party with you—”
“You know me, right? Parties exhaust me.”
“Okay, not a party. A family dinner?”
“I think family time is important. I’d ask if you could come for a little bit, and everyone would understand why you left early. They’d also understand if you missed dinners once in a while and would make extra for leftovers. It couldn’t be missing every family dinner, but if you did, we would discuss why. There has to be a reason other than you having other obligations. I’d hope that you would be happy to have family dinners and try to make them. If not, then there’s something bothering you about them and we should approach that.”
Hmm. Definitely not a Sejal answer. I leaned toward her, my elbows on my thighs. “What if I stayed awake all night to work?”
“I’d encourage you to have better work-life balance, but I do the same thing. Just be in the other room with sufficient lighting, and make sure you’re hydrated and exercising and eating healthy. Munch on a salad while you’re working.”
“So we’d just enable one another?”
She thought for a moment, pensive. “I’d say, maybe we can work out a system. Limit ourselves. No work after midnight. At least seven hours of sleep. No extra screen time one hour before sleep or within thirty minutes of waking up, preferably longer times on both ends. And…let’s read together. Or walk. Whatever. Build heathy habits, but together. But mainly, I’d want to make sure you’re in a healthy place.”
I cracked a smile. “And hold each other accountable?”
“Yes. As long as you bring me treats.”
“Treats?”
“Didn’t you make cookies when you came to my apartment for a work party last year?”
