Suresh Desilva never imagined himself buying someone an engagement ring.

His dream life included an impressive law school degree and a cushy job in corporate litigation that allowed him plenty of money and time off to travel the world with whichever pretty girl he felt like bringing along. And it was all going to plan.

That was, until he started seeing Catherine. And all the visions of wedding bells and picket fences that seemed to follow her around. 

They'd met at a bookstore in the science fiction section. Classic meet-cute. Suresh had been there buying a novel as a gift for one of his nerdier friends from law school but seeing Catherine had made him want to pretend to care about the books she was browsing just to impress her.

He was smooth, asked her out in the same way he did with other girls, and she'd accepted his number despite a skeptical attitude. It had helped that he bought the book she’d wanted for her. Otherwise, she might not have looked his way at all.

Over coffee a week after the bookstore, Suresh learned that Catherine was a Junior Doctor, specializing in cardiovascular surgery. He was thrilled to have met someone as dedicated to their work as he was to his. A doctor and a lawyer, he’d joked, they’d make a great pair.

Suresh had always thought of himself as charming, but getting to know Catherine made him realize that he’d been doing things all wrong. He was charming in a one-size-fits-all way. He walked into a room like a forest fire, expected the world to bend to his will just because it always had.

Catherine, on the other hand, was a slow burn. A pilot light. Reliable but oft overlooked. A tiny flame just for those that bothered to venture close enough. She didn’t charm strangers just by nature of being, she charmed those she cared to charm with painstaking effort. Learning this, like everything else with Catherine, took some time.

She was busier than he was—a first for him, he'd always had girls on his schedule and not the other way around. Many of their dates happened on carefully planned coffee runs in between meetings (Suresh) and during rare lunch breaks from the clinic (Catherine), but they made it work.

It took a beat for Suresh to realize that Catherine taking the time to get to know him at all was a sign of interest and an act of service. Her schedule didn’t allow for frivolous dating and neither did her personality. He kicked himself for not realizing sooner and planned an elaborate dinner to celebrate the milestone of him overcoming his ignorance.

He asked her to be his girlfriend that night and she’d accepted on the grounds of a contract they drew up on a bar napkin. A contract according to Catherine, that is. Suresh refused to endorse the legality of her shoddy document, even though he agreed to the terms wholeheartedly. The bar napkin vows were simple. They would both put their careers first unless things became serious enough to revisit. They would both do their best to communicate problems as they arose. Most importantly, they were exclusive as long as Suresh wanted to be. Catherine didn’t have time to worry about whether or not he was being loyal to her, so she gave him an easy out. They would separate painlessly if they needed to separate.

It had pained Suresh to see such a manifestation of relationship anxiety from Catherine. But he understood her hesitation, humored her, signed his name along a dotted line drawn in pen.

Turned out, the secret to getting a guy like Suresh to want to settle down was an equal match. Catherine worked like a foil to Suresh in all the best ways.

His old tricks didn’t work on her, and her occasional coldness wasn’t enough to keep him at bay. Both of them, though, knew the value of something that took a bit of effort.

After they became official, the relationship took on a whole new form. Catherine slept over after dinner that night and they’d had sex for the first time. Subsequently, she began sleeping over regularly. Often she would visit him late—early, she argued—after long hours of hospital rotations. It helped that Suresh lived near by the hospital. Catherine enjoyed the plausible deniability of a good excuse.

Six months passed without either of them really noticing.

In that time, Suresh learned that he enjoyed the slow burn. He learned that he liked letting her surgeon-steady hand stoke the flames. He learned that things didn’t have to flare up and fizzle out after a thrilling chase at a bar. They could build and rest, wax and wane. Live, breath, settle in.

It frightened and amazed Suresh all at once the way this thing between them felt built to last. And despite both of their reservations, things were beginning to get serious. Which brought him to the engagement ring.

They’d just wrapped up a two week holiday in Bora Bora. And while the trip had been idyllic, perfect days and exciting nights, Suresh found that he was excited to return home to the routines he and Catherine had settled into parallel each other.

It was fast for an engagement—lightning speed for a playboy like Suresh—but he’d heard the old adage. When you know, you know. And, fuck, he knew.

He paid for wifi on the plane to order the ring. Smiled at the secret as Catherine dozed with her head on his shoulder.

-

Suresh had never taken anyone home to meet his family, but he invited Catherine to Christmas in Edinburgh without a second thought. It had been a month since their trip to Bora Bora and Catherine had yet to mention any holiday plans with her own family.

“Come home with me,” he said, muting himself on the call with his mum, “for Christmas, I mean.”

Catherine shrugged, looking him up and down from her favorite place on his couch. Sitting, like she usually did, with a coffee in one hand and a patient file in the other.

“I haven’t got any plans.”

Suresh beamed as he returned to the call with his mother. “Yes, Catherine’s coming.”

He was a changed man, holding her hand under the table as they ate Christmas dinner with his family. Proposing on Christmas was a cliché that Suresh couldn’t bring himself to stoop to, but he was tempted as he watched her chat with his little sister. Laughing behind her hand, trading jokes with his dad and recipes with his mum.

The ring was in Suresh’s suitcase. Gold with stark white gems. A classic, just like Catherine herself. He carried it with him everywhere, even if he wasn’t sure when he intended to use it.

“This food is amazing,” Catherine told Suresh’s mother, dabbing the corner of her mouth gingerly with a cloth napkin, despite there being nothing there. “You’ll have to teach me how to make it.”

“I’ll send you the recipe.” Suresh’s mom beamed.

As much as he loved Catherine in particular, Suresh imagined that his parents would have been happy meeting any of his girlfriends. He could tell that they were just excited to be let into his life. He’d been guiltily aloof since moving out for school. Not quite estranged, but something approaching it.

The scene before him was pure familial bliss, a perfect contrast to the mercurial years he’d spent alone, flitting between bright office buildings and pretty girls and exotic destinations.

He squeezed Catherine’s hand under the table. He loved her. He’d told her so, weeks before, but he was still in awe at how much he meant it.

He loved her.

“I’ve got to get better at cooking,” Catherine said. “My older brother loved cooking when I was younger, so my parents didn’t have as much time to teach me.”

“I’ll tutor you any time.” Suresh’s mum tipped her wine glass in Catherine’s direction. “The door is always open. You’ll need to learn before you’re married!”

Catherine blushed, shifted in her seat.

“Amma,” Suresh groaned, feigning annoyance to save Catherine but feeling warm inside even still. “Don’t be like that. I wouldn’t mind cooking for us.”

He cooked for them plenty already, loving anticipating one of Catherine's visits and providing a hot meal when he knew her hospital days were fueled completely by vending machine snacks and cold cafeteria sandwiches. 

“Maybe Suresh can teach you.” His mum winked, not missing a beat. “I’ve taught him well enough.”

Suresh’s cooking ability was a side-effect of his older sister’s tendency toward feminism and nothing else, but he was glad for it in that moment. Aashvi had rebelled against the idea that she’d have to learn how to run a household just because she was a girl, so their parents thwarted her by becoming egalitarian. Suresh, just a year and a half younger than his older sister, had learned to cook right alongside her.

He was a better cook than Aashvi, now. And more tidy than his younger sister, Dayani.

Catherine, on the other hand, had been raised by parents almost too progressive for their own good. She hadn’t shown an interest in cooking like her brother, so she wasn’t taught. Most of her meals at home came from beginner-friendly meal subscription kits. And, even then, her abilities were questionable.

Suresh didn’t mind, though. Completely antithetical to his stoic nature, he liked the idea of caring for Catherine like his mother had cared for his father and sisters.

As Catherine helped Suresh’s mother clear the table, Dayani held back, giving Suresh a meaningful look as she pulled him aside. His younger sister was in high school, now, but he still saw a child whenever he looked at her. He wondered when she’d started carrying around an iPhone and sending memes to her friends via Snapchat rather than reading children’s fantasy books alone in her room.

“I like her,” Dayani said. That much was obvious, she’d been holding court at the dinner table all night, trying to impress Catherine.

Suresh pinched her cheek. “I know.”

“Whatcha talking about?” Catherine rejoined them, giving Dayani a sly look. “Any good gossip?”

“Desilva business,” Suresh said. He threw an arm over Catherine’s shoulders. “Maybe we’ll get married someday and let you in on all the family secrets.”

“Hah,” Catherine deadpanned.

“Until then…” Suresh mimed zipping his lips and throwing the key toward Dayani, who caught the invisible key out of the air with a flourish.

Catherine smiled. “You two are so cute. It’s a shame Aashvi couldn’t make it, I was looking forward to meeting her.”

“Right.” Suresh grimaced. His relationship with the older of his two sisters was much less fun. Strained at best, soul-sucking at worst. He hadn’t told Catherine much about it, but it was probably for the best that Aashvi hadn’t made it to celebrate Christmas with them.

She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Maybe next year.”

“Ew,” Dayani joked, “get a room.”

Suresh laughed. “Will do.”

“Gross.”

The room in question was Suresh’s childhood bedroom, now made into a guest bedroom. The single bed had been upgraded to a double once Suresh had gotten a good job and a nice flat and his parents accepted that he’d probably not be moving back in for a very long time. He was grateful that he and Catherine didn’t have to squeeze into a twin bed or sleep on an air mattress in the living room like Aashvi and her partner had done in the past.

Though the bed was different, the rest of the room had remained pretty well intact. His posters from high school had been replaced with family photos—overflow from Mum's scrapbooks, surely. His bookshelves, though, still held rows of mystery novels and textbooks, as well as trophies from debate club and souvenir trinkets from various breaks visiting his parents’ families in Sri Lanka.

“Aw, you didn’t tell me we were staying in little Suresh’s room!” Catherine made pouty-eyes at him and exaggerated the sentence with a cutesy voice. She lingered at the bookshelf, ogling a framed debate club photo.

Suresh rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t sure we were.”

“You haven’t been back here much, have you?” She asked, voice approaching a more serious tone. Catherine was always just one errant thought away from a serious discussion. She didn’t have the time nor desire to keep her anxieties to herself now that she trusted Suresh to hold them.

He turned, knitting his brows at her. “What makes you ask?”

“Your family treats you a bit like a celebrity,” she said, “like maybe this is a special occasion.”

Feeling caught, Suresh took his usual tact for when he didn’t have the words to help her feel better. He pulled Catherine into a loose embrace, turned his voice to silk. His presence was soothing enough, so long as he wasn’t the reason for her fears.

“It is a special occasion, baby.”

“Okay, yeah, it’s Christmas.” Catherine laughed. “But, I mean.”

“No.” He pulled her closer, kissed above the neckline of her red sweater. “Because you’re here.”

“Ah.” Catherine hummed, leaning her head to the side to allow him access to her neck. Her pensive look remained when Suresh pulled back, though, so he resigned himself to the truth.

“I’ve never brought anyone home before,” he admitted, “I’ve never felt the need to with anyone else.”

“Oh.” Catherine examined him with a frown. The stethoscope was missing, but he half expected her to ask him to turn and cough so she could diagnose the root of his family issue.

“I didn’t know that,” she said, finally.

Suresh shrugged. “I didn’t want to make a thing of it, but—”

“That is the kind of thing you might make a thing of, though.”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.” Catherine’s tone went defensive.

She was. And Suresh knew it. Catherine had very little experience with dating. She’d had a boyfriend in high school, but had spent most of her adult life single, sparing a Tinder fling here or there. She distrusted the notion of romance a little bit inherently.

Suresh had to remind himself not to take it as a personal indictment.

“You’re sure?” He asked.

Catherine nodded. Pecked his lips. “I’m sure. Thank you for telling me.”

“Always,” he said. He kissed her forehead, gave a convincing smile, took her to bed.

-

The next morning, Suresh woke up to find himself alone in his childhood bedroom. Catherine was a light sleeper and frequently snuck out of bed when she stayed over at his flat, but it was surprising that she’d felt comfortable to sneak away in his parents’ home.

Suresh got out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before venturing to the kitchen, where he hoped he’d find his missing girlfriend.

“Good morning!” Catherine called when she heard the door open. She was sitting at the dining room table, having a cuppa with Dayani. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could’ve.” Suresh grumbled. He didn’t like being left out.

“I’ve only really been awake for, like, twenty minutes,” Catherine told him. “Have a seat, I’ll make you a cuppa.”

Despite her reservations the night before, Catherine seemed quite comfortable navigating his family’s kitchen. He grumpily obeyed, nodding at his sister as he took a seat across from her.

“Remember when you used to stay up all night on Christmas because you were too excited for presents to sleep?” Suresh asked, trying to lighten his own mood with pointless nostalgia.

Dayani laughed. “Used to? I was up all last night.”

“Glad to see that some things never change.”

Catherine returned, a new teacup in hand. She set it in front of Suresh, her eyes darting between him and his sister.

“My family’s the same as you,” she said, “my parents are always up at four in the morning to open presents. We all take naps after, though.”

“Oh I wish! Mum is the worst, she insists on making a big breakfast for everyone before presents.”

“Actually! Hold on, one second.” Catherine left the table, scurrying back to the guest bedroom without another word.

“Where’s she going?” Dayani asked.

Suresh answered with a shrug. “No clue.”

Catherine returned a moment later with a small box, wrapped in peachy, luminescent wrapping paper. There was a little paper daisy on the front in place of a bow. Looking proud of herself, she placed the box on the table and slid it toward Dayani.

“You can open that one now, if you like,” she said.

Suresh had brought a gift card for each of his sisters, having given up on pleasing both of them long ago. Catherine had signed the cards alongside him. He had no idea she’d gotten other gifts behind his back.

“That’s from me. I hope you like it. Suresh was no help.”

Dayani beamed at her, carefully removing the paper daisy and unfolding the wrapping paper at the seams. She really was on her best behavior, Suresh had never seen her so careful with a gift from anyone else. 

“Oh, this is so pretty!”

“Let me see.” Suresh leaned over the table, trying to get a glimpse inside the box.

Laid carefully on velvet plush was a delicate rose gold necklace with a little Pisces charm. Suresh vaguely recalled telling Catherine that his sister was obsessed with astrology. It had been a passing comment, though, he wasn’t sure how she’d remembered.

“Suresh told me you liked astrology,” Catherine said, suddenly a bit sheepish, “I hope you don’t mind the Facebook stalking it took to find your sign.”

“It’s perfect.” Dayani fingered the charm, taking it in with greedy eyes before looking back up at Catherine. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” Catherine blushed, sparing a sideways glance at Suresh as if asking his approval.

He gave her an encouraging smile, again overwhelmed with affection for her. Beyond everything else, beyond the other things he liked about her, Catherine was always surprising him. It was like she was privy to some secret information about the universe, the way she always knew exactly the right thing to do.

“You’re all up so early.” Suresh’s mom strolled down the stairs at a leisurely pace, playing up the drama of her entrance. She was wearing her pajamas and a fluffy pink robe, but her makeup was done for the day.

“Amma, look at what Catherine gave me.” Dayani held up the necklace in its box for their mom to see.

While his mum and Dayani cooed over the necklace, Suresh rose from the table to slip an arm around Catherine’s waist. He whispered in her ear, “I love you.”

He couldn’t otherwise articulate all the feelings he felt for the moment—all the awe he felt for seeing Catherine’s skill for anticipating the needs and desires of others. The warmth and care he’d won from her extending now to the people in his orbit.

“I love you, too.”

“You didn’t get me a matching necklace, did you? With a Leo charm?”

“Nah, not your style.” She smiled up at him, kissed his jaw. “Sorry to throw you under the bus.”

“Eh, I deserved it.”

“Next time the presents can be from both of us.”

Next time.

Along with the necklace for Dayani, Catherine had also secretly procured an uncannily well-chosen bracelet for Suresh’s mother, a sturdy watch for his father, and something in a small box—wrapped with silver paper and secured with a paper star—for Aashvi. All of this was a sweet revelation when they finally exchanged gifts by the fire after breakfast.

Suresh overheard a conversation about the gifts between Catherine and Dayani as the two settled at the kitchen table afterwards. Catherine had offered to help Dayani with her Biology homework once her profession had been discussed.

“Could I leave Aashvi’s gift with you for the next time she visits?” Catherine asked.

She’d have better luck sending it by carrier pigeon, Suresh thought grimly. Aashvi visited home even less than he did.

“Um, you could do…”

“You ought to just let Daya keep it,” Suresh interjected.

Catherine looked up at him with a frown, reminding him that he’d yet to tell her anything about his relationship with his elder sister. It hadn’t felt worth mentioning until now.

“Or we can mail it,” he said, softening. “That’s easier.”

“Sure.” Catherine returned to her conversation with Dayani, but he knew from her expression that she’d tabled the discussion for when they were in private. He braced himself in advance for her reaction to his lackluster explanation.

It wasn't that he and Aashvi had experienced any sort of dramatic fight or falling out. That kind of direct communication was beyond both of them.

No, they'd drifted apart in their slightly overlapping college years and had just never found enough common ground between them since to mend the rift.

Besides this, Aashvi resented him for reasons beyond his control. And Suresh wasn't the type to accept blame that he hadn’t earned.

He could connect the dots well enough to know what she felt, though. Aashvi was independent like him and opinionated like him. She lived for her work just like he did. Suresh imagined she resented the way their parents expressed disappointment in only one of them for being distant and disinterested in family.

But none of that was Suresh's fault. He'd support her wholeheartedly if Aashvi would just bother to ask him what he thought instead of building up walls around herself. As it stood, they would probably never again be close like they were as children.

He could practically hear Catherine's side of the conversation already. She'd tell Suresh that it was in some way his responsibility to wonder after his sister. She'd say that he was being selfish by not defending her to their parents. That they probably got caught up in a silly misunderstanding somewhere down the line and he'd regret never clearing it up.

The worst part was that for all his aptitude in building strong cases, he didn't know how he'd make an argument against any of those points.

-

Suresh was right on the mark with his predictions for how Catherine reacted to his explanation. They were packing their things that night so they'd be ready to leave the next morning when Catherine brought up the gift for Suresh's older sister again.

"Are we really going to mail this, Resh?" She held out the box, dainty and sparkling. Suresh was tempted to tell her that Aashvi didn't deserve it. The gift in its delicate, shiny paper didn't mesh with the image of Aashvi in his mind, all her rough edges and calloused hands.

"You didn't have to get her anything," Suresh countered, avoiding her question.

It was unfortunate, sometimes, the hold that Catherine had on him. Just one disappointed look was enough to make him reconsider.

Suresh sighed. "Fine. I'll call her and ask for an address."

"You don't know where she lives?"

"She moves around a lot."

Catherine frowned, reaching for his hand to pull him to sit on the bed next to her. “Would you tell me what’s going on? You've bristled every time I've mentioned her.”

Where went his brilliant poker face around her?

Suresh wondered if he'd be able to get Catherine on his side. He imagined all the ways he could shift the story around, rearranging the points in his mind as if preparing to draft a legal document.

Finding no pockets of logic to rest his frustrations with Aashvi safely within, he sighed, giving up before he’d really put up a fight. "It's silly, really. I'll call her."

He made good on his promise the next morning, left alone in the bedroom again as Catherine bonded with his family without him. He’d almost be annoyed at how much his family liked her if he weren’t also wooed by Catherine’s mere presence.

Like he expected, the call went to voicemail.

“You’ve reached Aashvi Desilva,” a recording of Aashvi’s voice said on the other line, “leave me a message an’ I’ll get back to ya’.”

Even in her voicemail, she couldn’t be bothered to pronounce her words properly. She mumbled, still, like a child.

A tone sounded. Suresh had meant to hang up, but he hadn’t. And now he had to record a message, lest his sister receive a ten second clip of him breathing. Christ.

“Uh, hey Aash. It’s me.” He cringed, wishing he’d planned what he was going to say beforehand. “Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. Give me a call.”

He hung up, tossed his phone aside to get dressed. With any luck, Aashvi would ignore his call and therefore shoulder the blame for their continued estrangement.

Suresh was buttoning his trousers when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Suresh?” Aashvi’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. Maybe he’d caught her in the Christmas spirit.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, unconvincingly.

Aashvi laughed and her voice found a sharp note. There she was. “Did Dayani put you up to this?”

“No, I…” He trailed off, unsure where to begin.

Why did he have to make caring for her so damn difficult? This is why he couldn’t ask after her, she questioned his motives every time. “Merry Christmas, Suresh. Is that all?”

“No.” Suresh straightened, leveling his voice as if treating this like a business call would make it feel less like pulling teeth. “I wanted to ask your address. To send a gift.”

“You don’t have to send me anything.”

“Just—“ He took a breath. It wouldn’t do to argue with her. “Just text me your address. Please?”

“Man, whatever’s gotten into you…” Aashvi trilled, giggling like any part of ruining Suresh’s morning was amusing. “Heart grown three sizes today?”

Suresh grumbled, "Something like that."

-

thank you for reading! please don't expect this to be on schedule, i don't even know where it came from. i blacked out at my laptop for three hours and woke up to find this. comments/reblogs appreciated <3