"When you walk in a dream but you know you're not dreaming signore

Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli

That's amore"

That's Amore, Dean Martin

Neil's POV

Dhati woke up before me in the morning. That is, if she slept at all. To say that she looked bedraggled is an understatement. I opened my mouth to ask about it, but closed it when she shot me a tired glare.

"I was with George the whole night" was all she told me.

I shrugged an okay.

We were out of the house with our bags within a quarter of an hour. Nobody came to see us, and more importantly, nobody stopped us. She sought out the head of security and managed to wrangle a car out from him.

"We can drop you in New York, Mrs. Gray" the head stuttered when she insisted on a car.

"It's Hattie to you" she narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Lord Gray insisted that we-"

"Just give me the keys to my old Porsche" she sighed and my head whipped in her direction, "I believe it's still in the garage."

"It is" the Head tried again. "But-"

"Stuart" Dhati cut him again, and clasped a hand tightly on his arm, "I need to GO. Give me the bloody keys!"

Stuart, the Head of Security, trotted to the house to fetch the keys.

"Porsche?" I squawked out.

"It's an SUV, not a convertible" Dhati was smiling.

"Porsche!"

"It's just a car" she narrowed her eyes, amused at my bewilderment.

"Yeah..."

"You knew I was rich, Mr. Sachdev" she giggled at me. She actually giggled at me.

"I did, Ms. Deshpande" I managed a weak smile, "I didn't know you were Porsche-rich."

"Once upon a time, I was Aventador-rich" she looked away, although the smile stayed on her face.

"I use the public transport" I blurted out. "I mean, I have that SUV, but I use public..."

This time she laughed. Out loud, and really loudly too.

"I told you I've had a lot, and I don't need any of them" she murmured, wrapping her hands around my waist.

My eyebrows shot up at her gesture.

"You're in a good mood today, Ms. Deshpande" I smiled back.

"I spent the night thinking, Mr. Sachdev" her lips curled quite seductively, "I think I've been an idiot."

"Yes" I tried my hardest to keep a straight face as I assumed a grave tone, "you have been. But I happen to like you, idiot and all"

She hit my arm playfully, giggling again.

A loud cough came from somewhere near us, but instead of jumping away, Dhati merely turned her head towards the sheepish-looking Stuart. A keyring dangled from his hands.

"Ma'am, we can send some security along-"

"No, it's not needed" smiling sweetly, she reached for the keys, "We need to leave ASAP. I have to get my head re-dressed."

"No goodbyes?" I confirmed once as she strode towards the garage.

I saw her swallow convulsively.

"I've said them already" she whispered.

**

Arundhati's POV

It was an uneventful ride, I guess. He drove, put on the SatNav and ordered me to sleep.

"I don't need to" I pouted.

"You look like someone bludgeoned your head in" he scowled.

"Someone did" a giggle escaped my lips.

What the hell was wrong with me? I had been giggling like an idiot since the morning. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was over-exhausted.

As we hit and cruised down the highway, I wondered what would be happening in the estate right now. I hadn't told anyone about my desire to leave. Especially not Michael. I had promised my baby a week. I didn't even last a couple of days.

I sighed. I'll ask Michael later if I could have him over for holidays. It was almost September anyway.

My mind was busy with a lot of overthinking when I heard the familiar strains of an old song starting on the radio.

My head whipped towards Neil in shock when the words petered in.

In Napoli, where love is king

When Boy meets Girl, here's what they say...

I saw a wry smile on his face as he focused on the road in front of him.

When a moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie

That's amore

When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine

That's amore

I felt a smile creep onto my face too. I loved this song. Old world charm and all that, not to mention that Dean Martin had a voice to absolutely kill for.

Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling

And you'll sing "Vita bella"

Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay

Like a gay tarantella

I giggled at the lyrics, and saw Neil's smile widen at that. My giggle tuned into full-blown laughter when he started to sing along with the words.

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool

That's amore

When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet

You're in love

He had a beautiful, rich voice, and he assumed an Italian accent and delivered the words with such feeling. I still laughed. It was a moment worth remembering till eternity - Neil singing one of my favorite old songs with such perfection.

The laughter caught in my throat when he glanced over to me as he sang the rest of the chorus.

When you walk in a dream but you know you're not dreaming signore

Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli

that's amore

That was the moment I knew I would do whatever had to be done, but I could never bear to lose this voice. Because you see, back in Old Delhi too, this, what we had right here, was amore.

**

We were two hours into our road trip when Neil closed down the radio on the pretext of a headache. I didn't mind it. This meant that we could talk, something I had been seriously avoiding since yesterday.

"What do you want to do?" Neil began.

"About?" I asked, faking idiocy.

"Us" he shot me a glance.

"umm..."

"As in" he broke in, "Do you want me to move to New York, or do you want to come to LA?"

I picked at my nails with a new-found interest. Truthfully, I hadn't thought all that much about this. I was raring to start on a clean slate, but Lord, it was incredibly hard to let go of everything of my life here. Penny, my job, my apartment...everything. But for some reason, I didn't want Neil in New York. It was too close to Michael, and I didn't like that. Not one bit.

"I'll move" I whispered.

"I'm not forcing you too" his voice was tender.

"I want to" I said stubbornly. "New life, remember?"

"I do" he sighed, "Yes, I do"

"I can get a job in LA" I continued, glaring at my nails, "I can find an apartment -"

"Whoa there" he cut in sharply at my words. "What apartment?"

"You know..." my cheeks were aflame again, "Till we actually do get married..."

"You're staying with me" his eyes narrowed at my argument, "Don't even try to fight me on that."

I glared back with equal ferocity, but he wasn't one to give up. In fact, he only broke the glaring match because he had to focus on the highway.

"My parents aren't going to like it." I muttered.

"So don't tell them" he said flatly.

"Oh, like you hide half the things from your parents?" I jibed without thinking.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and I saw a muscle jump in his jaw. I scowled, cursing myself for not thinking before speaking.

"It works for me" he ground out dourly.

I looked away. We were going to have another of our spats if we continued on like this.

"I apologize" he bit out at length, 'Anyway...next question. What about the date?"

"Date?" my eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, Dhati, the wedding date" he shot me another glance.

Uh oh.

We were really going into unchartered territories here. I know how it goes, you know. Everyone thinks it is the female's prerogative to think about things like weddings and receptions, and if they don't, it is assumed it's because their heart isn't in it. Truth is, I hadn't had the time to think any of this through.

Where were we going to live? When would we get married? Where would we go after that? How many kids?

I hadn't thought of anything at all.

"When will you be able to get some leave?" I asked, and almost saw his eyes pop out in shock.

"You don't care when?" he sounded guarded.

What was I going to tell him? That while he proposed to me out of pity and camaraderie, I was starting to like him more? That it wasn't just a marriage of convenience for me to escape my ex-husband?

Over my dead body.

"No" I schooled my voice into one of disinterest, "Not really."

I thought I saw him flinch from the corner of my eye, but I might have imagined it.

"Is there anything else?" I asked, reaching for the radio button.

"Yeah" he sighed, "The headaches..."

"Ah yeah" I sat back, with my hand on my lap, "I forgot..."

"No, put it on" he waved at me, "It's just...I have chronic headaches. It's my...medical issue, you know...I'm also borderline diabetic. I do my exercise, though. I play basketball, gym a bit to keep it under control."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked warily. Did he know about the anti-depressants? I didn't want to tell him yet. I was on a low dosage now, and soon I would ask my psychiatrist if I could do without them.

"You've met my mother" he grimaced.

"Yeah so?"

"She's gonna hold you responsible for any sugar-spike or headache I get in her presence from now on" his grimace deepened.

"Really?" I asked, voice dripping acid, "And pray, what did I do now?"

"She's old-school. Thinks I need a woman to take care of all health issues. So she's gonna go after you."

"Neil Sachdev, if you want to get rid of me, you tell me so" I was amused, but he turned to me, horror evident in his face.

"I'm kidding...I'm kidding" I held up my hands. "I know all about what you're saying, though. My mom does it a bit to my bhabhi over my brother's cholesterol issues."

He sighed deeply in relief as I turned on to my favourite radio station. Joy filled me as I recognised another one of my favourite songs.

If you leave now, I'll understand

If you stay, hey, I got a plan

You wanna make a memory?

As Jon Bon Jovi's addictive voice filled the car, I realised that Neil was humming again, but his eyes were glazed.

Instinctively, I placed one shaking hand on top of where his rested on the gear shaft. I felt him stiffen, and then gradually relax.

It's bittersweet to hear you laugh

Your phone is ringing, I don't wanna ask

If you'd go now, I'll understand

If you stay, hey, I got a plan

You wanna make a memory?

You wanna steal a piece of time?

You can sing the melody,

And I can rhyme a couple of lines...

"I really like this song" I sighed, softly gripping his hand.

"You remember how it starts" his voice sounded choked.

"I do." I nodded, "Hello again, it's you and me, kind of always like we used to be...sipping wine, killing time...trying to solve life's mysteries."

"How's your life? It's been wild...God it's good to see you smile..." his lips twisted into an odd semblance of a smile as he completed the paragraph.

"See you reaching for your keys, looking for a reason not to leave..." I looked at him as I spoke. I didn't know what demons he was fighting with this song, but I wanted to fight it with him.

"If you'd leave now, I'll understand...if you stay, hey, I got a plan" he murmured, looking at me.

"I should be saying that to you, Neil" I smiled at the irony.

"After everything is done with, I'll sing this one for you" he wrenched his hand away from the gear shaft and used it to pull me close to him in an awkward side-hug. "After Stacie...after my mother...after everything, I'll sing it again."

"You can sing the melody to me, and I can rhyme a couple of lines" I whispered as I buried my face in his arm.

I heard him chuckle as we sped down the highway, closer to New York. As the last strains of the song played over the radio, it seemed to banish away all my insecurities. It seemed to tell me that amore or no amore, he would always understand, and he would always have a plan.

And that I should do what he begged me to, and trust him.

**

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