YOUR NEXT LIFE IS NOW

Chapter 1

The only moment you can’t relive is this one.

—From the newsletter Your Next Life Is Now (YNLIN)

Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts, present

It is the genius of the universe that the biggest questions in life are answered with the smallest words. Yes or no. There are no qualifiers. No in-betweens. A simple response that comes from the soul. Are you fulfilled? Do you believe in God? Will you marry me?

“Yes.” Nikki Parekh stared into Jay Mehta’s dark-brown eyes.

She surprised herself with the quick response. Too soon. Too casual. Too spontaneous. A decision like this needed more thought. They hadn’t even taken a compatibility quiz. Nikki still did not keep the bathroom door open when he was in her apartment. Yet, she was at home in his arms. His hold was strong enough for her to feel safe, but not so tight that she couldn’t set herself free.

“Yes?” he asked, for confirmation.

She laughed. “Are you shocked?”

He nodded. Then touched his forehead to hers. “Speechless.”

She leaned away, stepped out of his arms. “You did ask.”

“I did.”

Nikki turned back to the vanity mirror mounted on the wall of her bedroom. Her chaotic thoughts crawled around her brain, made her short of breath. She wasn’t built for impulsive acts. Nikki had modeled her entire life around intentionality. It was her brand, her mantra, her way of being . . . up until she saw Jay’s smile, the one that had made her approach him at a Halloween party last October. Six months! Their relationship was still in the “getting to know each other” phase. But her soul had already spoken.

Jay moved to stand behind her, his warmth against her back. This was his superpower, the way he touched her, held her. He’d become her comfort, even though she’d always prided herself on being a self-soother. Nikki leaned against him, making it easier for Jay to rest his chin on her shoulder. Gently he brushed his lips against her jaw. This. He’d become an addiction she never wanted to break.

His hands gripped her waist, a gentle pressure requesting she turn around, chest to chest. He loved to look into her eyes, which was unnerving. His own eyes showed every emotion—desire, joy, love—with an openness she’d never experienced.

She knew the texture of his smooth skin, slightly rougher than hers. Nikki wasn’t someone who needed physical contact. Yet from the first time he’d held her hand in his, she’d begun to crave his warmth, the feel of his palm against hers, the slight pressure of his grip that made Nikki remember she didn’t have to walk alone. Through the mirror, Nikki saw a version of herself that she liked. Since Jay, she was softer, sexier, slightly demure—words she would never put in her bio. With great effort, she removed herself from his hold.

“I’ll call a Lyft.” Nikki left her bedroom to grab her phone from the kitchen island.

“We have time.” His bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor. Jay hated socks because he said his toes were jealous of the freedom his fingers enjoyed. He wore them only when the weather or the occasion required.

“Traffic.” Nikki kept her eyes on the phone screen, swiping to search for the app even though she couldn’t recognize a single icon. She’d said yes.

“We have time,” he repeated. Then Jay tugged the phone out of her hand and placed it face down on the counter.

“Evening rush. You know it takes forty-five minutes to drive three miles within Boston.” Each word came out rapidly, as if she were running to catch the T before the doors closed in her face.

Jay took her arm, brought her closer, face-to-face, and Nikki inhaled. His aftershave still lingered from this morning—wood, smoke, and a hint of pine. His hold helped to slow her heart. He was attractive in a conventional way with angular cheeks, a prominent jaw, and thick eyebrows below his wide forehead. His lashes were the envy of every woman and framed the deep brown eyes that held no secrets.

“What’s going on in that busy brain?” Jay asked. “Talk to me.”

She leaned her head on his chest. “Did we just?”

He lifted her chin with his finger. “Remember when we went skiing up in Stowe a few months ago?”

“You insisted you could hang with me down Upper Goat,” she said. “After one lesson.”

“You were so worried,” he said. “And I’m still in one piece.”

Nikki laughed. “How’s that wrenched shoulder?”

“A souvenir,” he said. “Sometimes you have to take a risk.”

Except this was marriage. A lifetime. She backed out of his arms. Jay leaned his body against the edge of the granite kitchen countertop. He was comfortable with silence, let it permeate the space between them. It was the lawyer in him. Nikki, having grown up with a mother who wielded it as a weapon, rolled back her shoulders to let him see that she could stand in it.

And yet he was right. She was Nikki Parekh, a life coach with a quarter of a million subscribers to her weekly newsletter. She often wrote about being open, accepting opportunities, doing things in spite of fear.

“I love you,” he said.

The first time he’d said those words was eight weeks into their relationship. They’d gone ice skating at the Frog Pond in Boston Common. He’d twirled her around, pulled her close, and whispered them in her ear. She’d been paralyzed. He wasn’t the first man to say them to Nikki, but he was the only one she’d believed. Still, it had taken her another two months to say them back to him. He’d been patient, never pushed. He would joke that the least she could do was say thank you, as a nod to sitcoms. “I love you too.”

He gave her a wide grin. “We could skip dinner. Celebrate here.” He grabbed her at the waist and pulled her in for a kiss.

She sank into him, became lost in his taste. After a few minutes they both retracted to catch their breath. She grabbed her dark curly hair and put it up in a bun. “Should we call and cancel? Or . . . was this dinner to celebrate?”

He shrugged.

“Why now? I mean, why tonight?” What she really wanted to say was Did you mean to propose like this?

“It feels right.” He didn’t waffle or hesitate. They were so different.

“Feels,” Nikki said, and made air quotes. “I see.”

“Air quotes? Really?”

Nikki dropped her hands. “Sorry. It’s just that this isn’t something you blurt out. We’ve never even talked about it.”

“Marriage. Come on, you can say it, it’s not a bad word.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tease. I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”

He nodded. “Look, the moment I saw you at that Halloween party, dressed in a white T-shirt that said ‘Costume,’ I knew you were the one.”

She smiled at the memory. Jay had worn a top hat with a fake bushy white mustache, a top hat and tailcoat under which was a white shirt that was marked with a bloodstain from a protruding fake knife. The blue ribbon on his lapel said, “Kill all monopolies.”

“Research shows that men marry the person they’re with when they feel ready for marriage,” Nikki said. “It has nothing to do with whether that person is the right choice.”

He laughed. “Do you know that women who say yes to a marriage proposal usually throw themselves into their partner’s arms and then spend the next hour texting all their friends?”

She wanted to bang her head against the wall. “You are exasperating.”

“Rest of your life, babe.” He spread his arms to his sides.

“No more joking. Why did you blurt it out like that? We were on our way to dinner. It’s a Thursday night.”

He nodded. “The flowers, ring, and all that feels too clichéd for us. It’s more natural this way. I was listening to you talk about your day, switching from work Nikki to evening-out Nikki. I watched you struggle with the clasp of your necklace without asking for help. Then it hit me, this is how I want to end every day for the rest of my life.”

She melted. He was right. She’d already said yes and she didn’t want to take it back. He’d shown her how to be more spontaneous, less risk averse. “I still expect a ring.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Oh, just you wait. My mother’s got an emerald that will look stunning on these long bony fingers.”

She looked at her hands. “You sure that’s a compliment?”

“I mean lithe and lovely,” he clarified.

“Wait, your mom? You told her about this?”

He shook his head. “No. I told you this wasn’t the plan. We have this tradition, goes back to our ancestors on my mother’s side. They were kings or something in Rajasthan before the colonizers. Every bride of the eldest son is gifted this emerald ring. It’s a way to welcome you into our family and that you will now be a part of this legacy.”

“I see.”

“If you don’t like it,” he said, “we’ll put it in a safe-deposit box, and you can pick something else.”

“No, I mean, it’s a nice tradition,” she said. “I hope I’m worthy.”

He brushed her lips with his. “Stop worrying. My mom likes you.”

Nikki scoffed. She’d met his parents three times, and his mother had not been impressed by Nikki. “She barely talks to me. And she definitely does not approve of what I do.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not marrying her,” he said.

She raised her brow. “I’m sorry, did you forget that we’re Desi?”

He nodded. “Fine, you’ll win her over or she’ll have to deal. Stop worrying. Have faith in us. Marry me.”

Again, her soul answered. “Yes.” This time she was steadier. The obstacles were in her head. She came from generations of people who’d married without knowing their spouses. Her parents were the perfect example. They’d met once before agreeing to an arrangement, and they’d been together for over thirty-five years. She and Jay had more. She knew his nature and his character, and most importantly, she loved him, and he loved her. They would be fine. Nikki took Jay by the hand and led him back to the bedroom. They’d order takeout, but first they would commemorate this moment in their own way.