TRS khatam hone ki khushi mein 😭✨

-• your head on my shoulder •-

Sara stands back and watches as the crowd swallows her best friend the moment they step outside of her car. To interview the world famous architect for your magazine is not a small feat to achieve. The entertainment industry is ran mostly by connections rather than discovery and hardwork. Sara knew that as soon as the doors of this field were opened to her. She was an immigrant in a foreign country and had to tackle a lot of obstacles because of her identity secret. Getting a job wasn't easy, impossible even. The only way was through strong social and professional connections. When she first reached out to Leigh on Facebook, the latter was already an established name in the architecture business. People trusted her decisions. So when she recommended Sara to the CEO of Muse, he hired her after a virtual interview.

The company was in shambles when Sara first started to work. It took her ten years to bring Muse and herself to the top of the game. Employees at Muse only knew her as a Gamechanger. That was her identity, that was what she was famous for. Nobody knew her personally, but they were aware major decisions went through her after the CEO and Chief Editor. She had to work her way up through intense dedication and commitment as a newcomer in this business at the age of twenty seven. It wasn't easy. But she wouldn't change a thing of it. She owes her career to her resilience and their beautiful friendship that sustained through years of ghosting, hardships and physical barriers.

"I can't believe we're interviewing Leigh Jamison for our next month's edition. I knew our CEO was close acquaintance with her but I never knew you two were friends!" Shreeja speaks animatedly, brown eyes glowing with excitement.

Sara sighs, looking at the scene unfolding in front of her. Turns out, the nearest architecture college somehow found about Leigh visiting Muse office in India and swarmed at the gates early in the morning for a small glimpse of her. Now the woman is clicking pictures and signing autographs for her young, ambitious fans who gush about how they worship and aspire to become like her. The guards barely manage to evacuate the office premises and escort the blond woman safely back inside the building where Sara stands waiting for her with two cups of coffees.

Leigh beams. "Thank you!" Grabbing the cup, she takes a sip of the cream frappe and breathes out in content. "Nothing hits you in the right place like a cup of coffee does."

Sara chuckles, taking a sip of out of her own cup. "By the way, this is Shreeja, my immediate junior and the head of our editorial team."

Shreeja quickly dries her sweaty hand to her pants and reaches out to shake hands with the woman. Leigh smiles, reciprocating the welcoming gesture. "Hi, Shreeja. I'm Leigh!"

"Of course, I know. I stayed at your famous prairie houses in Vietnam. Expensive than my God damn kidney but so worth it." She exclaims. "Especially the waterfalls right next to the balconies on both sides. We stayed there for only two days but we loved it. We're actually saving up to go again next year, this time with our kids."

Leigh's smile widens. "Thank you."

Shreeja blushes, curbing a grin.

"Let's go to my office now?" Sara suggests.

Shreeja and Leigh nod in response.

She leads the ladies towards the elevator and presses for the seventh floor. The doors close swiftly, filling the quiet box with soothing, classical Indian music until they reach their desired floor. As the ladies walk out, the motion sensor doors slide open, revealing them to the eager faces of the remaining editorial team. Leigh gets busy appeasing another flood of pictures, selfies and autographs. Sara excuses herself to her office, again, left unheard over the chaotic commotion in the main lobby.

She drops her bag on the desk and sits down, rolling her neck around to get rid of the tensed muscles. She had fallen asleep at five in the morning after sobbing her heart out in her best friend's arms, and then woken up as usual by her alarm at seven at the crack of dawn. Leigh opposed the idea of going to the office but Sara knew, if she is not working, she'll be thinking of her loss, losing herself to the inevitable pain even more in the process.

While the computer boots up, she uncaps her coffee cup, throws the straw in the trashcan and takes large sips of the coffee, checking the pending work on her desk in the meanwhile. The door opens and Leigh enters, occupying a seat across from the desk.

"You should go and finish your meeting with the Chief Editor first." Sara advises her.

Leigh leans back in the chair, legs crossing at the ankles as she drops her head on the head rest and looks up at the ceiling. "I came to India thinking I'm going on a vacation. But aren't you a Zalim, making me work on my supposed holiday!"

Sara gives her a look.

"I know what that look says!" Leigh points, eyes squinted studiously.

Sara tilts her head to the side, as if curious.

"It says stop wasting time and run along, I've many other important things to do than pretend to be interested in your bullshit." Leigh parrots. "Am I right?"

"You should be a part-time mindreader." Sara suggests.

"I know. This is more my thing."

"Anyone can make houses." Sara shrugs.

"True." Leigh nods. "Mindreading is no juvenile game. Takes years of experience and an emotionally unavailable best friend."

"I'm not emotionally unavailable. I'm just not emotionally expressive."

Leigh leans in, touches the back of her palm tenderly. "It's the same thing, Sara. Did you skip your English classes again?"

"Yeah, I was busy making money."

"I'm richer than you." Leigh smirks.

"Your daughter loves me more."

"Ah fuck," Leigh grunts. "You lost me there."

Sara chuckles.

Leigh laughs too. "By the way, Masie sent you a video message and her handmade cookies, warning me over and over again I'm not to touch or eat them."

"Imagine birthing a daughter and she makes cookies for your bestfriend."

"Because you spoil her with gifts and cards. The girl hasn't even met you and still raps about how you're her idol, best friend and the most amazing woman in the world!" Leigh snorts in amusement. "The last time her homeroom teacher asked her to write an essay on the person who inspires her the most, she wrote it all about you. I even sent you the pictures of it, remember?"

Sara nods, feeling lighter, better, almost happy at the mention of the little girl she's now godmother of.

"Daniel was not happy about it. He envies you."

"He needs to step up his game." Sara says smugly.

"He says he's going to train your future kid to be his greatest fan like you did with Masie." Leigh adds, "I told him I'm in. So you better be careful. Your daughter or son is gonna love us more than you and your future husband."

Sara rolls her eyes. "Sure, dream on."

"What? We are!"

"I'm never getting married again. Once was more than enough."

"What if a good man comes along? Teaches you love again -"

"I've never fallen in love before."

"Teaches you love for the first time." Leigh corrects herself. "Teaches you the meaning of a partner, of being a better half, of sharing responsibilities and dreams and problems and sorrows and happiness? Love is one of the rare resources, Sara, you gotta grab it when it comes your way."

"I'm happy alone."

"You'll be different kind of happy with them. It'll be a different kind of comfort, a different kind of sufficient, a different kind of warmth, and it'll be all worth the risk."

"Or it'll be a different kind of tragedy. A different kind of loss. A different kind of grief. A different kind of regret." Sara smiles wryly. "Trust me, it's really not worth the risk, especially for people like me. But that doesn't mean I've stopped living. I'm fine. I'll be fine always."

Leigh breathes out in defeat. "If you think so. I'm always with you anyway. Also, it's good that Masie won't have to compete with a midget for your attention or inheritance."

Sara shakes her head in amusement. "Now leave. Mrs. Krishnamurthy must be waiting for you." She ushers the woman out.

"Oh yeah, I gotta go." Leigh gets up and fixes the chair in its place. "I'll head home directly. See you in the evening."

Sara nods, handing her car keys to drive herself back home.

Leigh exits the office and heads upstairs to the internal first floor within the office, meeting the Chief Editor and proceeding with the details of their collaboration.

Sara gets to work, reviewing the articles and blogs shared with her through mail, fact checking the information, shortlisting options for next month's format and signing the necessary documents waiting on her desk.

She gets a call from her cousin at five in the evening.

"Hello,"

"Shivam Khatri scheduled an appointment with me as you expected. I have a meeting with him in an hour." Rudra informs.

Sara leans back in her chair, clicks her retractable pen, hums thoughtfully. "He owns two percent of shares in Sehgal Hotels. Withold the idea of investment and push the shares agenda more. He might give in."

"Do you need to get on the board of Sehgal Hotels?" Rudra inquires.

"No." Sara shakes her head. "I only want to buy Shivam Khatri's shares."

I need him to see me, notice me, pay attention to me.

"Let's say he agrees to sell the shares, do you have enough money? I can lend you some if you're short on funds."

Warmth fills her heart. "Don't worry about it. I'm not worried about it anymore since I lost Rajawat palace anyway. I've enough money."

Rudra hums. "I'll recommend you as a potential buyer once I convince him to sell his shares."

"Thank you." She says genuinely.

"I-" he hesitates, "I don't know what you're doing. I've an intuition, a faint idea, and for some reason it makes me anxious. Sara, I've been alone all my life. Never had someone to protect or look after until I met my wife. And I was prepared to spend my life making her my whole world but then came the Rawals, then Shourya, now you and Da- Dad. We don't have memories. We don't have a past. And we might not be the typical siblings like Chauhans but always remember I'm here. I'm still your brother whether you like it or not. So you want my help? Ring me a call. I'll try to help you to the best of my abilities. Okay?"

Sara blinks back the tears. Nose stuffy, she sniffles, whispering a soft, broken, barely audible, "Okay."

"Good. That's all I wanted to say. Take care. Bye."

"Bye," she hangs up and puts the phone down, taking deep breaths to calm down. She had been feeling at her lowest ever since yesterday, so much vulnerable than she has ever allowed herself to feel. She never knew all it takes is to have people around you, just being there for you to make you feel whole again, strong again.

Exiting her office to use the washroom, she splashes some cold water on her face to freshen up. Then she rummages through her make-up bag to transform her sullen and tired face lively again. When she returns to her office, she finds her phone ringing on her desk. The unsaved contact flashing on the screen strikes as familiar to her, pausing her briefly. Why is he calling her again? The last time they met, they parted ways on quiet amicable terms. Did he find something against her? Countless questions flow through her mind. She hushes them all by answering the call. "Yes, officer?"

"Please come to the police station, Ms. Rajawat. I've someone you'd like to meet."

"Now?"

"The sooner the better."

"Alright, I'll be there." Sara hangs up and grabs her bag from the desk, booking an uber on her way to the ground floor. The conceirge at the entrance opens the door for her. She thanks the old man and slides in, repeating the OTP to the driver before leaning back in the seat.

The closer they get to the police station, the more confidence she loses. She knew everything was going too smoothly for her to not hit an obstacle soon. Her grit and determination wanes as she repeatedly goes through her last plan in her head. She had made zero mistakes. But she couldn't ebb off the feeling of missing out on something, something that could have been insignificant before, might make her regret now. What could be it? Was there even anything? Is she thinking too much?

She exhales deeply.

Breathe, Sara, breathe.

Her heart stutters.

The reminder of him only unsettles her more.

"We're here, ma'am."

She pays the man online, grabs her purse and steps out of the cab, looking up at the gated government property in front of her.

"Just don't lose your composure." She tells herself and walks in.

The lady constable asks her purpose of visit. Upon getting an answer, she respectfully escorts her to their senior's cabin. The doors swing open when Sara follows in after the lady officer, finding the man leaned over his desk reading some documents.

"Madam is here, sir."

Arjun looks up, slightly starstruck at the sight of the woman standing behind his junior. "Ms. Rajawat," he gets up from the chair, stretching out his hand for a shake. Sara frowns, shakes his hand anyway. "Please sit," she settles down on his left across the desk. "Tell Gaitonde to send two cups of tea to my cabin." He orders the constable.

The lady nods, salutes and retreats.

Sara sits poised in the chair, slender fingers interlinked gracefully, her purse sitting next to her on the empty chair.

"What am I here for?"

Arjun holds up a finger and picks up his receiver. "Bring him in."

Sara blinks, perplexed as the man gestures her to wait. The doors open and another constable drags a handcuffed man inside the office. Sara looks over her shoulder, brows dipping in confusion at the sight of the stranger that she's guessing is the reason she's here for.

"Do you know him?" Arjun asks.

Sara looks back at him and shakes her head. "No, who is he?"

"Dheeraj Singh. He was hired to stalk you."

Her face scrunches in disbelief. "What!?" She looks back at the man again, trying to check if she has ever seen him around her. "Who hired him?" She asks Arjun.

"Your ex-husband. Mr. Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan."

The incredulity she was feeling a moment ago deflates hearing the answer. Honestly, expected. She sighs exasperatedly.

"Is he known for these kinds of stunts? Because you don't look that shocked anymore." Arjun appears beffudled.

Sara opens her mouth to answer when the doors open again and the main subject of the topic steps in, drenched, haggard and exhausted with his dark hair unkempt and messy.

Yuvraaj's gaze falls on his ex wife, then shifts to Dheeraj who looks at him hopefully and turns his head away, humiliation and regret coursing through his veins like parasite eating you at the rinds. He nibbles on the inside of his lower lip, avoiding looking at the people present in the room.

"Let's file a FIR first -"

"I don't want to press any charges." Sara states.

Yuvraaj's head snaps towards her.

Arjun looks at her baffled. "But Ms. Rajawat, this was a criminal offense. The perpetrators need to be held accountable for their actions. And if you're worried because they're powerful -"

"No. That's not it. I just don't want any unnecessary attention." Sara shakes her head and gets up, grabbing her purse along. "Just tell me what forms I need to fill and where to sign. I wish to end this matter right here."

"Are you sure?" Arjun asks hesitantly. "You can also receive monetary settlement -"

"I just don't wish to be associated with this man in any way. Please, help me close this matter quietly."

Arjun relents with a nod. "Alright, come with me." He exits the office.

She turns around to follow him, stopping briefly near Yuvraaj and shaking her head softly at the man's actions, not even disappointed anymore. He avoids eye contact with her in shame.

They're allowed to leave two hours later. Sara steps out of the station, glancing at the sky above, dusk swallowing all the light from the day. She sighs and descends the staircase, ignoring the light drizzle of rain soaking her as she takes out her phone to book an uber. The app shows busy.

"Sara!"

She turns around, sheltering her eyes under the cup of her palm, squinting them to look clearly. Yuvraaj strides towards her with impatient steps. "Sara," he pants roughly, cheeks flushed red, eyes slightly swollen and lips chapped. "I'm sorry about -"

"Cut it, Yuvraaj. Just leave." She mutters.

"I was going to get him off you. Trust me. I-"

"I don't want to hear your reasons. I don't even want to see your face. Please leave,"

"I made a mistake," he steps closer, loosing his footing unexpectedly, not because of the narrow footpath but his own inability to stand straight. "I'm sorry," he slurs.

Sara's brows plunge together. She looks at the man carefully. He doesn't look good. He looks sick.

"Are- are you drunk?"

He blinks. "No," he shakes his head. "I'm sorry." He leans in, his knees almost buckling. Sara stumbles back. "Shit, I need to sit..." He trails, eyelids fluttering wildly. "I- I haven't slept. I took public transport here. My car broke down in the middle. Public transport sucks." He strains his eyes open, they fall close almost immediately. "Everything is spinning, Sara. Hold me."

"Yuvraaj?" Her hand rises to touch his bicep lightly.

The touch so warm and gentle, his body caves in. His head drops on her shoulder with a light thud.

She startles.

"Hold me," he whispers.

Rain soaks them both.