Song - Chahun mai ya na

Riya

A few years ago, I asked my friends a question when Sia declared she was falling in love with Rudra and passionately pursued him. The question was, how did you know you were falling in love? Sia answered that the world around you keeps spinning, but you get centered by the presence of this person—the one who tethered you in the middle of a storm. Ruhi answered that it was like drowning—excruciating—quite macabre.

I knew why that conversation kept revolving in my mind again and again.

The slow realization was equal parts exciting and scary. It was as if I was perched over the end of a rollercoaster about to go down.

I looked at the mural again. To distract myself, I asked both of them to paint their palms and add the prints in the corner. It was a gift from both of them to their mother. It took a lot to convince Abhay, which I had expected.

But I realized one crucial thing. Saying please with a sad face worked wonders with Abhay. I learned it from Veer and used it successfully. It came with the embarrassment of the triumphant feeling when he agreed to do as I requested. I was doomed.

I looked at Abhay, who was engrossed in his phone, his brows all furrowed in deep thought, leaning against the wall. Veer's excited chatter came from outside the room. He had run downstairs to bring his mother to show the artwork.

"Close your eyes, mamma." He said in his soft voice.

"And how would I walk if I closed my eyes?" Meera replied with amusement.

They stood in front of the door. Veer told her to keep her palm over her eyes, and she followed the orders. All the while, Abhay pretended to be engrossed in his phone. His tensed shoulders told me his whole attention was on the duo.

What went through his mind when he saw all this? Was he jealous? Angry?

"This is...beautiful." I turned to see Meera looking at our work, amazed. She walked closer to it, observing the wildflowers. "These are flowers from my garden." She stated.

"I saw you have an amazing garden. So, I thought of going forward with this design." I said, walking towards her.

"That is so thoughtful of you." She replied, her eyes still glued to the wall.

"I made these." Veer pointed towards the grass, puffing his chest out. "And bhai made these." His fingers turned towards the flowers he had painted. "It's your birthday gift."

At his declaration, Meera looked at Abhay, who was still on his phone. I wanted to scream at him, but I realized he was...awkward.

Emotions swirled in Meera's shiny gaze. Maybe a mix of joy and disbelief.

"Yeah, Abhay said these were your favorite flowers. So, he added these." I said, pointing towards the flame lily he painted.

He looked sharply at me, finally out of his phone. I gave him a saccharine smile in return.

Meera looked at him, her tears clinging onto her lashes, "Thank you."

"Why are you crying? You didn't like it?" Veer asked, all worried.

"People cry when they're happy too." She replied softly. Veer, happy with her answer, dragged her closer to examine the things he painted in detail, rambling about the things I taught him along the way.

I watched as Meera leaned closer to the wall, her fingers lightly tracing the painted petals. Her teary smile tugged at something deep within me. The way she looked at Abhay wasn't just joy. And it felt too personal for me to give a name.

I glanced at him, still leaning against the wall, his phone now forgotten in his hand. His jaw tightened slightly, and his brows furrowed. He wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at the mural, either. He was staring straight ahead as if trying to hold himself together.

She didn't say anything else, nor did she look at him again. She wasn't dejected either. She knew her son was allergic to all things love and affection.

When Meera and Veer stepped out after insisting I stay for dinner as it was already evening, I found myself standing next to him.

"You're allowed to say something, you know," I teased, breaking the silence.

Abhay turned his head slightly, his gaze sharp. "I didn't do this for a reaction."

I rolled my eyes, though the warmth in his voice didn't escape me. "Right."

He looked away, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. "Don't push it."

"That's my duty as I bear the title of Ms. Saviour," I said. A small smile slipped, and my heart skipped a beat. A person's smile shouldn't affect you this much.

My fingers tingled, and I looked around to see the mess we made to distract my mind. "We need to clean it," I said. The realization, in my opinion, was the most dangerous thing ever. Ignorance is bliss, which I was deprived of.

We decided to clean up the space. The mopping was to be done by the house helper. They had house help in uniform. My eyes widened a bit when I saw that.

A household came with a tray full of tea and biscuits, and she put it down on the table.

"Tea." I looked at the tray, happy.

"Yeah, it's time for your tea time, isn't it?" He said, picking up some paintbrushes and putting them in the box. My hand froze mid-way to the cup.

"How do you know that?" I asked casually, picking up the porcelain tea cup, pretending his comment did not affect me. I sat on the sage green sofa in the corner.

"You drink a lot of tea in the evening at your cafe." He said and looked at me. "I don't think that's healthy."

"Like you're one to talk." I rolled my eyes, a giddy feeling spread through me, and I crushed it down. I had indulged in the thought a bit too long.

"Toche." He said, picking up the cup and sitting on the bed facing me.

As we silently drank our cup of tea in peaceful silence, I caught the way his gaze lingered on the mural for a moment longer.

We went down after a while as he had to take a call, so I thought of helping Meera out. She stood in front of the stove, stirring the pan as I entered the kitchen. I had expected some house help to be here, but it was only her.

The kitchen was huge, and the marble countertop in the middle had veins that felt like beautiful brushstrokes. Glowing lights hung above the countertop, and it gave the kitchen a warmth.

Meera turned around and felt my presence.

"Do you need any help?" I asked.

"No, no. I'm almost done." She replied with a polite smile. "I do need help in plating these."

"Sure."

"So, Riya, Abhay's told me a bit about you. You're into painting, right? That must keep you busy." She asked as we kept the plates on the dining table.

"Yeah, I guess it does. I...find it easier than talking sometimes." I laughed softly.

She nodded like she understood exactly what I meant. "I can relate. Sometimes, expressing yourself through art is simpler than using words. Abhay's always been more of a quiet type, though in his case, it's mostly by choice." She chuckled lightly, but it had a sad tinge to it.

I gave a half-smile, unsure of how to respond. "Yeah, I can see that."

There was a beat of silence, then she leaned in slightly, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "So, do you two hang out much outside of the usual? I know how busy Abhay gets, but it's always nice to have someone to share time with."

I still wasn't sure what introduction of mine he had given to her. Or knowing him if he had given an introduction at all. I hesitated, unsure if I should be more honest or play it safe. "We...do meet occasionally at the college cafe." Not the truth, neither a lie.

She gave me a small, almost sympathetic smile. For what, I had no idea. Maybe she thought we were friends.

I found myself drawn to the hint of sadness in her tone when he mentioned him. "Was it always like that with him? Even when he was younger?" I asked before I could stop myself, suddenly wanting to understand more about the Abhay I hadn't quite figured out yet.

She exhaled softly, her gaze distant as if remembering things I wasn't supposed to know. "He used to be so open. Full of jokes and laughter. But after...after everything happened, he shut down. I don't think he ever let anyone in again, not like that." Her eyes flickered toward me, "He's a tough one to break through to."

I bit my lip, the weight of her words sinking in. "That sounds tough. For both of you," I murmured, not knowing what else to say. I realized that their relationship was frayed. But it didn't mean there was a lack of love. Love was there, somewhere simmering between the layers of their relationship.

She nodded, her smile faint but genuine. "It's not easy, but we're still here. He's a good person. You might not see it all the time, but he cares more than he lets on."

Before I could respond, Abhay entered the dining area with his brother in tow.

Dinner was quiet and peaceful, and the presence of Veer's excitable chatter made it feel more lively. Meera served dishes with the kind of care that spoke of years of practice, and I found myself seated between Veer and Abhay. Veer insisted on telling every detail of our painting session to his mother, and I could feel Abhay's occasional glances in my direction.

"Riya, you've made quite the impression on Veer," Meera said, her tone amused as she watched her son cling to my every word.

"He's a great helper," I replied with a smile, ruffling Veer's hair. "And a talented artist."

Veer beamed, but my comment drew a soft chuckle from Abhay. "You've never seen his handwriting."

"Mom!" Veer whined.

The table erupted in laughter, and I glanced at Abhay, who was looking at me. Veer caught my attention with his stories and how Abhay used to do gardening with them. When I looked at him again, his guarded expression was back, a wall erected between him and the warmth around him.

After dinner, his mother insisted on Abhay dropping me at home. I asked him to drop me off at Sia's. I was not going to take him on an hour-long drive to my place and then come back again. The prospect of staging with him in a car for an hour was too tempting, but I didn't want to bother him too much. I think he had enough of my presence for a day.

I looked outside the car window as the nightlife blurred with the gentle hum of the car engine and the soft glow of streetlights. For the first few minutes, neither of us spoke, the silence heavy but not suffocating. I stared out the window, trying to organize my thoughts. I wanted to talk to him.

"So when am I getting my flower back?" I asked finally, breaking the quiet.

"We can go right now," Abhay said with a small smile.

"That will be too late," I said, looking outside. It was too serene. This moment. "You guys should start a delivery service."

"Any other feedback, Ms. Saviour?"

"Yeah, the other instructor could be a bit polite."

"Have you tried being polite to that instructor?" He asked, a smile formed on his face. The nerve.

"I'm always polite."

He hummed, and his voice made my finger tingle. "And a joy to be around." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"I am. You just don't appreciate it." I laughed.

He glanced at me, and then his eyes looked ahead. "Who says I don't?"

His words tugged at my heart. I wondered how to respond to his words. "Maybe you should show it more." I joked.

The fear that he would ask why gripped me. Why should I show? We are not friends. How was I going to respond to his questions?

"I show things in my own way." He said softly. It wasn't dismissive, but it wasn't open either. I nodded even though I had no idea what I was agreeing to. What did he mean by that? Was I a fool to look for hope in his words?

The soft thread extended between us. I could feel it pulling me towards him, slowly and steadily. Wrapping around me like a soft blanket.

Before I could respond, his phone rang on the dashboard. It was Dhruv.

Dhruv. A cold bucket of water splashed over me. The noise of traffic started blaring, and I came out of the trance I was in. What was I doing? Falling for a guy my brother considered a family. Dhruv's and my fragile relationship was not going to survive this. No matter how bad things were between us, I couldn't afford to lose him all at once.

Abhay didn't pick up his call.

There was silence in the car. My thoughts drowned the noise outside. The right way to go was to stop here and not make it more difficult for myself. It wasn't going to go anywhere. There was no way my feelings were going to be reciprocated. My heart broke at my thoughts. I understood both Sia and Ruhi's words now.

I had made up my mind. I turned to look at him for the last time to soak up the remnants of the moment. I found him already looking at me. I froze at the intensity of his gaze. Then, he promptly turned back. He stopped the car, and I got off.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, my mind fuzzy. "Goodbye."

"See you tomorrow." He said, emphasizing the word as if reminding me, and the drumming of my heart echoed again. He wasn't even aware of how difficult he was making it for me to let go.

With his knowing eyes, as he could read each thought, he said, "Good night, Ms. Saviour."

"Good night, Abhay," I whispered, my words almost getting lost in the night air as if they were meant to linger between us, suspended in the space where everything I wasn't saying was left hanging. I turned quickly, walking away, but even with every step that brought me further from him, his presence felt closer than ever before.  

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I don't usually add songs, but this song was on repeat when I was writing this chapter. What other songs might suit their relationship? 

Also, where do you think their relationship will go from here?

Do vote and share your thoughts <3