It had only been a week, but already their evening walks had become a comfortable ritual. Every day after the practice they'd meet up, Magic's leash in Vritika's hand as she waited with a smile. As soon as they'd start walking, Magic would trot ahead, occasionally glancing back to make sure both of them were following.

Rohit looked forward to it more than he'd expected. 

It had a homely feel to it. And it was so much better that the club his other friends had dragged him too. They had urged him to let loose and "live a little  by putting forward a glass of alcohol. One sip was all it took for him to regret it—bitter, burning, and nothing like he'd expected. He'd barely managed to keep from grimacing as his friends cheered him on, claiming it would "grow on him." 

Poor people.....kadwa hai phir bhi pite hai...arey usse achha kadha pee lete....

Rohit looked around himself and smiled. Now this was life. Not some dark, loud club with a drink he could barely stand, but here—with a glass of aamras in hand, wearing shorts and hoodie in a pleasant evening breeze, Magic trotting happily beside them, and Vritika's laughter filling the air. There was no loud music, no packed dance floor, no pretending to have fun. Just them, strolling under the evening sky, sharing stories and laughter in a way that felt genuine.

She'd point out little things along the way and Rohit found himself appreciating them just because she did. And he was starting to notice the way she'd tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, or the way her eyes sparkled when Magic did something silly.

But it soon had to come to an end. 

Rohit had to leave for Kolkata the day after for a the Duleep trophy. Virat was also leaving with him. Vritika was happy that they both would play in one team but was sad at the same time that they both had to leave.

That evening they arrived at Vritika's home just as her father pulled into the driveway. The sound of the car engine caught their attention, and Vritika's smile faltered for a moment. Her father stepped out of the car, briefcase in hand, his brow furrowing slightly as he caught sight of the two of them.

"Vritika," he called, raising an eyebrow. "And who's this?"

Rohit felt the heat rise to his cheeks as Vritika introduced him. "Papa, this is Rohit. He's a friend from college and Veer's teamate."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Rohit said, trying to keep his voice steady as he extended a hand. Vritika's father shook it firmly, assessing Rohit with a thoughtful gaze.

"I see, I think I have seen you somewhere...." he replied, his tone neutral. 

"Papa don't you remember the match we went to...this is that Rohit Sharma.."

"Ah, yes! The one with the big sixes!" He chuckled. "You were impressive on the field. I've heard a lot about you."

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot"

"Why don't you come inside for a bit? I just brought home some sweets. Mithai khakar jaana bhai, inni khushi ki baat hai, my daughter has secured a really good rank. IIT to mil hi jayega. Bataya ki nahi isne?"  Vritika's father said with a proud smile.

"Bataya na sir. It's really great. She has done amazing."

They entered the house.

"Sit, sit!" her father urged, pulling out a chair for Rohit. " Have some gulaab jamuns..while I go freshen up."

Lounging on the couch with his phone, Virat caught sight of them entering. He immediately raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. Silently, he began to tease his sister, raising his hands to mimic an applause and then placing a hand over his heart in admiration.

"Tuh toh badi tej nikli, yaar.....," he whispered in her ear, winking at her. "Aaj woh there family se mil raha hai...kal tu uske milegi.....phir shaadi hogi.......phir bacche..bhai tu toh superfast nikli ekdum, huh huh..."

Vritika's eyes widened in disbelief, and she playfully shoved Virat's shoulder. "Stop it! You're being ridiculous!" she hissed, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson. 

"Ab jo dikh raha hai use kya chupana..." Virat smirked, enjoying her embarrassment.

"Shhhh... Chup kar, Rohit sun lega, pagal..." she shot back, glancing nervously at Rohit, who was now enjoying a piece of gulaab jamun.

"Matlab tune use bataya bhi nahi... jabardasti shaadi karegi usse? Buri baat, Vri..." Virat continued, clearly not ready to let her off the hook so easily.

Vritika shot him a warning look. "Shut up, Veer! It's not like that at all!" she protested, her heart racing at the thought of what her brother was implying. "We're just friends!"

"Paagal samaj ke rakha hai kya mujhe?"  Virat shot back, unable to contain his laughter.

"Ugh, you're the worst!"

 "What did I miss?" Rohit asked, wiping a bit of syrup from the corner of his mouth.

"Nothing! Veer is being his annoying self," Vritika said. "Don't worry about it."

Virat crossed his arms. "Yeah, just talking about how Vritika is a big fan of early marriages," he added with a wink.

"Virat!" Vritika groaned..."Ro, ignore him! He's just doing time pass so that he can avoid packing his bags so we'll do it for him. Veer, go and do it now! You have an early flight tomorrow!"

 "How could you accuse me of such a thing? I'm just here to enjoy some sweets and the company of my sister and her... friend," he said, shooting Rohit a playful glance.

"Stop it, you big baby!" Vritika laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Seriously, though, you need to pack. It's not going to do itself!"

 "Fine, fine!" 

Now they were alone in the room.

Rohit cleared his throat. "Hey, Ritz, I actually have something for you," he said, reaching into his backpack.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned forward. "Really? What is it?"

He pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box, the deep blue wrapping contrasting beautifully with the golden ribbon. "I saw this and thought of you."

A smile spread across her face. "You didn't have to get me anything, Rohit."

"I wanted to, you have achieved something very few do" he insisted, handing her the box. "Just open it."

With delicate fingers, she untied the ribbon and peeled back the wrapping, revealing a small jewelry box. As she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. 

Nestled inside was a stunning bracelet adorned with intricate patterns and tiny, sparkling stones that glimmered in the soft light.

"Oh, Rohit, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, lifting the bracelet delicately. "I love it!"

"I'm glad you do," he said, feeling a rush of happiness at her reaction. "It reminded me of you—elegant and unique."

Vritika beamed at him, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Thank you so much! This really means a lot to me." She clasped the bracelet around her wrist, admiring how it caught the light.

"Looks perfect on you," he complimented.

"Wait, I have something for you too!" Vritika said suddenly, her eyes alight with excitement. She reached over to the table and retrieved a neatly wrapped package.

"Really?" Rohit asked, surprised and curious. "You didn't have to!"

"Just open it!" she urged, handing it to him.

Rohit carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a stylish case. He opened it to find a pair of cricket polarized sunglasses inside. The lenses were a sleek shade of dark green, and the frame had a sporty look to it.

"Wow! These are awesome!" he exclaimed, slipping them on to check the fit. "You know me so well."

"I thought they'd come in handy for the Ranaji trophy," Vritika said, her eyes sparkling with pride. "I know how important this tournament is for you."

"Thank you! These are perfect," Rohit said, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. "I can't wait to wear them during the match."

Rohit didn't have to wait long to put the sunglasses to use. Just a few days later, he and Virat were off to Kolkata for the Duleep Trophy, while Vritika found herself diving headfirst into the whirlwind of college applications and forms. Her incredible results had secured her a seat at IIT Bombay, and now there was no shortage of paperwork and preparations to be done.

A few days later she had to leave Delhi to go and report to the college in Mumbai to secure her seat which she quickly went and did. 

She got back home to an empty place. 

"Maa...Papa..." She called but no one answered. It was weird and worrying because the front door was wide open.

She set down her bags, moving cautiously through the rooms. "Maa? Papa?" she called again, louder this time.

There was no response, just the soft rustle of curtains from a gentle breeze.

Trying to quell the rising anxiety in her chest, she picked up her phone and dialed her father. The call rang once, then twice, before going straight to voicemail. She tried her mother's number, but heard the ring inside the house.

She followed the sound and found her mother's phone lying on the kitchen counter where it had likely been left behind.

 She quickly scanned through her messages, hoping to find a text or some clue about where they might've gone.

Nothing.

Her phone rang. It was an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, haan Vritika beta, Tripathi uncle bol raha hoon."

"Ji boliye."

"Your father had fallen unconscious at the court so we had to take him to hospital. "

A wave of shock washed over Vritika, gripping the phone tighter as she tried to steady herself.

"Hospital? Kaunse hospital mein le gaye unhe?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"City Hospital, beta. He had complained of dizziness earlier, but we didn't think it was serious until he collapsed. Your mother is there with him."

"I'm on my way," she replied, already grabbing her car keys.

Vritika rushed into the hospital, the sterile smell hitting her as she looked frantically around for someone, anyone, to give her answers.

She found her mother in the waiting area, sitting in stunned silence, her eyes red and vacant, hands clenched together in her lap.

"Maa..." Vritika whispered, her voice trembling.

Her mother looked up slowly, tears spilling over as she took Vritika's hands in her own. "Beta...," "Your papa... he... he didn't make it."

Vritika's knees buckled, the words hitting her with a force that left her breathless.

Everything after that was just a blur to her. The relatives came and she watched as her mother clung to her maasi and cried..

This is not real. It cannot be.

Her mother's cries cut through the haze, and Vritika's heart twisted painfully. She wanted to comfort her, to be strong, but she felt so small, so utterly lost.

She moved and found her father, lying still on the hospital bed. The sight of him—so lifeless—sent another wave of disbelief crashing over her.

"Papa," she choked out, her voice trembling. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand, feeling the coolness of his skin. "Please... wake up. I need you."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched his hand, desperate for some sign that this wasn't the end. Memories flooded her mind—his warm hugs, his laughter, the way he had always been her biggest supporter. 

"You promised to help me with college... to be there for me when I start at IIT and oh papa what will I tell Veer...," she whispered, each word breaking her heart a little more.

A nurse came in. "I'm so sorry for your loss," 

Vritika barely acknowledged her. "What had happened to him?"

"He collapsed at work. We did everything we could, but... it was too late. He suffered a cardiac arrest."

 "No... it can't be. He was fine just a few days ago. He was so excited about my admission to IIT..." Her voice cracked.

"I know this is incredibly hard," the nurse continued, her tone softening. "But it's important to take care of yourself and your family right now. If you need someone to talk to, we have counselors available."

"Thank you," Vritika managed to say, though her mind was reeling. 

She was numb. It seemed like a horror movie. She out and again saw the relatives surrounding her mother. She was thankful. At least her mother wasn't alone. She wanted to be with her mother but the reality hadn't sunk in yet. 

She walked past the sea of relatives, and sought refuge in a quiet corner of the hospital hallway. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh glow on her tear-streaked face. Vritika slid down the wall, her back pressing against the cool surface as she curled her knees to her chest.

She looked down at her hands.

They seemed real. Maybe this was a really bad dream?

She pinched herself hard and found herself wincing. 

Shit! It was all real. How could God be so cruel? What had her mother done to deserve so much pain?

She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to block out the world, wishing she could escape the pain that had settled deep within her chest. Sobs started to wreak her body. The hiccups came frantically shaking her frame as she struggled to catch her breath.

God is so very cruel...how could he do something like this to Veer?

Veer!

She scrambled through her purse to find her phone. She fumbled with the zipper, her hands trembling as she finally pulled out her phone. The screen lit up with notifications, but she ignored them, focusing solely on dialing Virat's number.

Her heart raced as she waited for him to pick up. Please, please pick up, she thought desperately.

He didn't. He was probably on the field. Still she kept trying. After what felt like an eternity, someone finally answered. "Hello?"

It wasn't Virat. "Who is this?" Vritika asked, her heart sinking.

"Hey Vritika, It Mahi."

"Where's Veer..I mean Virat, Mahi bhai?"

"He's on the grounds scoring runs, why?"

"Papa... he's gone. He didn't make it," Vritika managed to choke out, the words feeling like shards of glass in her throat.

Silence fell on the line. "Oh no, Vritika, I'm so sorry. I'll go get him right now. Just hang in there, okay?"

"Thank you," she managed to say, her voice trembling. "I just... I can't be alone right now."

"You're not alone. I'll make sure he gets there as fast as he can," Mahi reassured her before hanging up.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within her. Soon, Veer would be there, and she knew she had to hold herself together, if only for him and for their mother. She could not crumble now. 

She stood up and made her way to her fathers room and arranged for her father to be taken home. A nurse handed her some paperwork, and as she signed the documents.

She found her mother in a chair, lost in her own world of grief, shoulders trembling as quiet sobs wracked her fragile frame. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her tightly .Her mother clung to her, breaking down fully, tears flowing freely as she buried her face into Vritika's shoulder.  

"Maa, Veer will be here soon. He's on his way. You're not alone. We're all here, Maa... we'll get through this together."

******

Rohit walked off the pitch, his bat raised in celebration as the crowd roared for his well-fought century. He was expecting to see , Virat, waiting to congratulate him. But as he scanned the area, he found only somber expressions, and Virat was nowhere in sight.

"Mahi bhai," Rohit called out. "Where's Virat?"

Dhoni  placed a heavy hand on Rohit's shoulder. "There's something you should know, Rohit. Virat had to leave urgently. His father passed away."

Rohit's heart sank, the thrill of his century vanishing in an instant. "What?" he whispered, unable to fully process the news. Thoughts of Vritika filled his mind. How was she coping with this unimaginable loss? He knew how close she was to her father, and he could only imagine the pain she must be going through right now.

"I need to call her," he muttered, fishing out his phone with trembling hands. He dialed her number, but it went unanswered.

"I can't just sit here and wait. Mahi bhai please, let me go for the day. I can't focus on the game right now."

"I get it, but you also have a team to think about. You can't just walk away in the middle of the match. They need you out there too."

"Mahi bhai..."

 "I promise you, once this match is over, we'll make sure you can go to them."

They did eventually win but hardly celebrated. 

Their house was heavy with quiet, broken only by the murmurs of relatives offering condolences. Vritika moved through the gathering, ensuring her mother was settled, guiding guests to where they could sit, all while holding back her own sorrow for the sake of her family.

Then, she saw him.

Virat stood at the doorway, his eyes unfocused, face pale, as if he'd lost a part of himself in the hours it took to get there. The weight of grief in his expression mirrored her own, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Slowly, she walked over and wrapped her arms around him. He didn't say a word, didn't make a sound, but his shoulders shuddered as he pulled her close, holding onto her as though she was the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

 Someone softly called his name, reminding him of the duties he needed to fulfill. Virat nodded, taking a shaky breath before pulling away.  Vritika gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, urging him forward.

It was time for the antim yatra. Virat took his position and the men left taking the body with them chanting the name of god.

With her mother weeping softly in a corner, Vritika busied herself with attending to the guests, pouring tea, offering water, and checking on her mother from a distance. 

The men came back soon enough but Vritika couldn't spot Virat. She went out to the park and saw him sitting alone on the bench. His head was hung low. 

She approached him slowly and wound her arms around his neck from behind. He grasped her hands tightly and sobbed. She tightened her embrace, resting her cheek against the top of his head, offering what little comfort she could.

They stayed like that for a long while, neither saying a word. The loss was too raw, too consuming for words to fill the empty spaces their father had left behind.

Finally, Virat whispered, his voice breaking, "I don't know how we're supposed to do this without him, Vritika. He didn't do it right Vri...he went away too soon."

Vritika bit her lips hard to stop the tears. Shee managed and took a deep breath. "Don't blame him...I think he went away happily. He saw his favourite child get into a dream college and his little mouse playing for India....He had all his dreams fulfilled Vri."

Virat closed his eyes, letting her words sink in.

"And also, he is gone. I hope he is happy wherever he is but he is no longer with us. He is with Dadu and Nanu now. Do not pity the dead, Veer...pity the living. "

 "You're right," Virat wiped away his tears roughly. "I have decided Vri, I will leave Cricket and find a job. I can get a nice government job in the sports quota and

Vritika gave a hard pat on his head. "You will do no such thing, Veer. You're an incredible cricketer, and Dad would want you to keep playing. You can't just give it up just because we are in need of money."

"Little? We have a home loan to pay, my academy fees, ghar ka kharcha and oh my god your admission fees..." Virat's voice rose.

"I know it's overwhelming right now, but we can figure it out together. Dad wouldn't want us to give up on our dreams because of money. We can look for scholarships, financial aid—there are options, Veer."

"Options?" He scoffed, anger bubbling up. "What options? We're not in a movie where everything magically resolves itself. This is real life, Vritika. We need to be practical."

"I am being practical. And we have our savings remember..."

"It's not enough Vri..I checked the accounts."

"Veer, don't worry about that. I have everything figured out. Veer, look at me..." She reached for his chin, gently lifting his head so their eyes met. "I have everything figured out. Your fees will come out from he savings and I spoke to my college advisor today," she continued "There are scholarships available for students from families that have faced hardships. I can apply for them, and I know I can get some financial aid. It will help cover my admission fees and give us some breathing room."

"And the home loan? Somebody needs to be on a job to pay the interests Vri. I am not a permanent player yet and there's no guarantee I will be in the future. So I can leave..."

"No Veer! That isn't necessary. Because soon I will start freelancing and you know the amount of projects and opportunities an IITian would get? They are hung amounts. And we don't have to have huge money. We just have to pay little sums every month and we will be okay. You just focus on your game. You're an incredible cricketer, and Dad would want you to keep playing. You can't just give it up because he's gone. He believed in you—he was your biggest fan."

"But I can't focus on cricket now. Everything feels different without him here. What if I can't perform?"

"Then you perform for him," she insisted, her voice firm. "Every time you step onto that field, you carry his spirit with you. Let that drive you. Don't let his absence hold you back—let it propel you forward. You owe it to yourself and to him."

"But what if I still failed?"

"You won't. "

"I don't think I can handle the pressure."

"You don't have to take any pressure. Promise me you won't because there is only one simple thing you have to do."

"What?"

"Just play. Play for the love of the game, for the joy it brings you. Don't think about the expectations, the future, or the losses. Play like you did when you were a kid—without fear, just pure passion. And try to forget everything but the game on the field. Can you do that?" 

He nodded slowly, the weight on his chest feeling a bit lighter. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

"Good," she smiled, "And don;t worry about Maa. Sarita maasi has promised me that she would take care of her. Now, let's head back inside and you get some rest because I can feel your jetlag from here."

"I guess I do look like a zombie right now."

" I'll make sure to keep everyone entertained so you can sneak in a quick nap. Just don't forget to eat something, okay?"

"Sure, I'll grab a snack later," he replied, giving her a grateful nod.

They stepped back into the house, the atmosphere was heavy with the scent of incense and the murmurs of relatives. 

"Hey, Vri?" Virat paused, his voice quiet.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She managed a small, grateful smile, even as her throat tightened. " I wouldn't know what to do without you either."

"I hardly did anything."

"You are here, aren't you? It's enough."

He looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. His heart ached, not only from their father's loss but from seeing his sister shouldering the weight so stoically, trying to keep everything together. He wished he could do more—to lighten her burden, to give her a space to grieve freely. But he knew Vritika was holding herself together for them, staying strong because she felt she had to.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Virat sat up the next morning and rubbed his face, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness in his chest. Through his window he noticed someone. Rohit was here. 

They locked eyes through the window, and Rohit gave him a solemn nod.

A few moments later, Rohit found his way to Virat's room. "I'm so sorry, bro."

Virat nodded, struggling to find words. "It's fine. Are you looking for Vri?"

Rohit nodded, and without another word, Virat led him down the hallway to Vritika's room. He paused at her door, glancing back at Rohit. "She's been trying to hold it together for everyone," he said quietly.

Rohit gave a small, understanding nod. Virat took a step back, watching as Rohit softly knocked on Vritika's door and then slipped inside.

There she was.

"Ritz"

"Ro."

******