SUSH!
Chapter 12: Coming Home
The flight back to India is long.
Paris to Delhi. Eight hours.
Delhi to Pune. Two hours.
Sush doesn't sleep.
She just stares out the window and thinks.
When the plane lands in Pune, it's 11 PM.
Her father is waiting at the airport.
He hugs her. "How was Goa?"
"Good," she says.
"You look different."
"Do I?"
"Thinner. Tired."
"I'm fine, Baba."
They drive home in silence.
When she walks into the flat, her mother is waiting.
"Sush! Finally!"
Thumki is on the sofa. He looks up, blinks, goes back to sleep.
Her mother hugs her. "Tell me everything. How was the workshop?"
Sush opens her mouth.
She could tell the truth. She could confess everything.
But she doesn't.
"It was good, Ma. I learned a lot."
Her mother smiles. "I'm so proud of you."
The words are a knife.
The next morning, Sush wakes to seventeen missed calls.
All from Priya-ma'am.
She calls back.
"Sushmita. What is this email?"
"I'm resigning."
"You can't just resign. You have responsibilities. You have clients."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Your mother works here. Do you know how this looks?"
"I know."
"Then why are you doing this?"
Sush closes her eyes.
"Because I have to."
Priya-ma'am is silent for a long moment.
Then she says, "Fine. But you need to come in and finish your paperwork. And you need to tell your mother yourself."
"I will."
She hangs up.
Telling her mother is the hardest thing she's ever done.
They sit in the kitchen. Her mother makes tea.
"Ma, I need to tell you something."
"What is it?"
"I quit my job."
Her mother's hand freezes on the teapot.
"What?"
"I resigned. I sent the email last night."
"Why?"
"Because I can't do it anymore."
"Sush, you love that job."
"I know. But it's not enough."
"Not enough for what?"
Sush doesn't have an answer.
Her mother sits down. Stares at her.
"What happened in Goa?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me."
Sush looks at her mother. At the woman who has worked so hard, who has sacrificed so much, who has always done the right thing.
And she thinks: I can't be you.
"I wasn't in Goa," Sush says.
Her mother's face goes pale.
"Where were you?"
"Europe."
The silence is deafening.
"You lied to me."
"Yes."
"You went to Europe. Alone."
"Yes."
Her mother stands. Walks to the window. Stares out at the street.
"Why?"
"Because I needed to."
"Needed to what?"
"I don't know. Figure myself out. Feel something. I don't know, Ma."
Her mother turns. Her eyes are wet.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? How reckless?"
"I know."
"You could have been hurt. You could have been—"
"But I wasn't."
Her mother sits down. Puts her face in her hands.
Sush has never seen her mother cry.
"I'm sorry," Sush says.
"Are you?"
Sush thinks about it.
About Paris and Amsterdam and Barcelona and Rome and Berlin.
About Liam and Rafael and Marc and James and the Italian guy and Lena.
About the way she felt — terrified and alive and free.
"No," she says. "I'm not sorry."
Her mother looks at her.
And for the first time, Sush sees it.
Not anger. Not disappointment.
Fear.
Her mother is afraid of her.
Afraid of what she's become.
Afraid of what she might do next.
"What are you going to do now?" her mother asks.
"I don't know."
"You don't have a job. You spent all your savings. You have no plan."
"I know."
"So what are you going to do?"
Sush looks at her mother.
And she realizes: she doesn't have to have an answer.
"I'll figure it out," she says.
Three Months Later
Sush is working at a café in Koregaon Park.
It's not a career. It's just a job. Minimum wage, long hours, rude customers.
But it's hers.
She's saving money again. Slowly.
She's looking for a new apartment. Something small. Something just for her.
She's stopped talking to her ex. Blocked his number for good.
She's stopped falling for every guy who smiles at her.
She's started therapy. Real therapy, for herself.
She's learning what she wants.
It's slow. It's hard.
But she's doing it.
One day, Rahul comes to the café.
He sits at the counter. Orders a coffee.
"You look different," he says.
"Do I?"
"Yeah. Happier."
She smiles. "Maybe."
"You ever going to tell me what really happened in Europe?"
She thinks about it.
About the sex and the cities and the way she came back different.
"Maybe someday," she says.
"I'll wait."
He drinks his coffee. She wipes down the counter.
And for the first time in her life, Sush feels like she's exactly where she's supposed to be.
Not because she's arrived.
But because she's still moving.
THE END
© 2025 Atharva Inamdar. Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. Free to read and share with attribution.