"Running, running, running, running

Running from myself no more

Together we will face it all"

Runnin' - beyonce

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I'd like to take a moment here to thank all my readers, for this story is now ranked #25 on the chicklit rankings, wooo!

And one more point, please go back to the last chapter to find a photo of who I think can play Neil to perfection, and leave your views there.

And lastly, I believe I have found the perfect song for Neil and Dhati, and it is by one of my favourite old time artistes, The Carpenters. It is called "For All We Know", and I have written the lyrics of it at the end of this chapter, but I'd love it if you could listen to it while reading this, or maybe before reading, because I actually did tear up thinking about these two while listening to it.

Sorry for the rant, here ye go!

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Neil's POV

I woke up with a blinding headache and the reminder that Dhati had promised me last night that she would 'come over'. Even before I opened my eyes, the very thought of her finding me in this condition had me groaning.

I must've groaned a little too loud, because then I heard footsteps coming towards my room, and before I could manage to drag myself out, my door opened, and there stood Stacie. If I hadn't been sitting, I would've definitely collapsed.

"What...what...the hell?" I blustered, shocked.

"And good morning to you too!" she cocked an eyebrow as she glanced me over once.

"What are you doing...doing here?" I blubbered more, staggering onto my feet, notwithstanding my massive, debilitating headache.

"The doctor had told you to not drink because of your headache" she informed me critically as she leaned onto the doorjamb, watching me.

"Screw that...what are you doing here?" I asked as I managed to stabilize myself.

There was an odd silence as she simply stared at me for a long time.

"I called last night, and you were drunk out of your mind" she informed me coolly.

"So you walked right into my house?" I asked, aghast.

"Yep" she nodded, "And dragged you from the couch onto the bed. I still have that spare key. You've got me to thank for not having a sore back."

"But...but..." I had talked to her? To her?

"Your fiancée called" she continued ahead, checking her nails now, "Now that's something you and I need to talk about."

Dhati had called? And I had talked to Stacie? What the hell was going on?

"Oh don't look so stunned" she scowled at my confused expression, "Shaan called too, saying that he was flying back to New York this night again...something about his editor giving him a stupendously hard time and making him run around like-"

"I don't care about that right now" my voice sounded strangled as I padded towards her, "Dhati called?"

"Now who's this?" she squinted.

I groaned once more as my head spun, "My fiancée, Arundhati...when did she call?"

"Around midnight last night...a bit after I dragged you here. I was gonna leave you here and go, but then she called and-"

"What did you tell her?" I managed to latch onto her shoulders.

"Exactly the truth" she shrugged, "that I was Stacie, you ex-girlfriend, and you were asleep, so could she please call later."

I staggered into the kitchen and collapsed onto a bar stool, head in my hands. No amount or roaring and weeping and yelling was going to solve this situation now.

"What...what was her response?" I croaked out as she followed me back here.

"She cut the call" Stacie shrugged again, "What would you want for breakfast?"

I watched her in limbo as she skipped around my kitchen like she had never left at all, and fixed herself a cold breakfast of orange juice and some honey cornflakes. She was midway into her meal when I finally found my voice.

"Stace" I cleared my throat, "You left me. You...you ruined my life once...why did you have to go out and do it again?"

"What do you mean?" she looked up, genuinely startled.

"Why did you pick up the call?" my voice grew stronger as I started pace around restively, "What is gonna think, when my ex picks up a call on my phone at midnight? What is she-"

"Neil" Stacie cut in, her voice surprisingly sharp, "If she loves you and trusts you, she wouldn't think anything of it."

"Not everyone is as...as detached as you!" I exploded.

She would never ever understand my situation, and for God's sake, I could not listen to any more theorizing. She sat there, glaring at me as I continued pacing, wearing the carpet thin.

"I have to bring up one point" her voice was taut with tension, and clipped.

"What?" I turned towards her, exhausted to my very soul by all this.

"She looks like me" I turned away, but that familiar clutch of guilt was back in my chest, clamping on tightly to my heart that was beating wildly at her accusation.

"No, she doesn't" I replied promptly.

"I'm pregnant, not blind" she said scathingly as she walked up to me and shoved my phone with her caller id in my face, "Imagine my horror when a woman who looks like me calls you in the dead of the night and introduces herself as your fiancée!"

"Is that why you stayed?" I narrowed my eyes, anger winning over my headache, "To cross-question me in the daylight?"

"Maybe" she glared right back, "What did you think? That you couldn't have me, so why not try your luck with someone who could pass off as my twi-"

"Don't. Say. Another. Word." I ground my teeth as I stepped away from her.

"Neil..." her voice was scary quiet when she spoke again, "For your sake, I hope that child isn't yours."

I whirled around to see her eyes glazed, but her mouth was set in a hard line.

"I want you to call this woman right now, and apologise for what you've done to her" her voice shivered, "She seems to care about you...she was asking if you were okay...and about the test."

"I...I can't" I sighed, "I might've been interested in her in the beginning because...she...yes, because she looked like you...but she's Dhati...She's herself, and she's fantastic the way she is...she is strong and capable-"

"You tell her" Stacie's voice was stronger when she cut me off again, "or I will, and I promise it won't be pretty."

"Wait, what?"

"I thought you were over me!" she was shaking now, and I couldn't understand if it was from anger or if she was feeling sorry for me.

"I AM over you" I shot back.

"Then tell her the truth, and tell her you love her, you screw-up!" she screeched as she reached for her bag, "And do it before Shaan reaches there and tells her himself. He wants to make up for hiding things from you about me, it seems."

"What the-"

"No" she cut me off vehemently, "For once, he is right, and you, the infallible Neil Sachdev, are wrong. Deal with it."

**
Dhati's POV

I fell into an uneasy sleep that night, with George by my side. Sleep eluded me for quite some time as I replayed the conversation as well as the import of George's words in my head.

How many more times will I cry over a man? How many more men?

See, they'll all hurt you at some point, Bhabhi had once told me, years back when we were in school, where she was a grade ahead of me, and was my bus-mate. Trick is to know whom is it worth suffering for.

Bhabhi, or Sailee, as I had called her back then, had been correct. And I had disregarded her wise words as being influenced from her Bob Marley phase. No, she was bang on...it all mattered if it was for the right person. Unfortunately, in some stories, you don't know who's the villain and who's the hero until the very end. Like in Harry Potter, in Snape's case.

Lives are not storybooks, although everyone has a story. Sometimes, the characters are so plainly gray that you realise it is futile to categorise them as good or bad.

People aren't described by single words. We are more than the words others use to describe us.

You are worth more than the money in your bank account, Dhati, don't lower your value to that.

I closed my eyes tightly and hugged the warm body of George close. And like all those years ago, I found my home in the sound of his soft breaths.

**

The next morning saw me waking up to a standard morning frenzy. Penny was back from Kyle's, and she was already up and about, I groaned and turned, only to realize that the bed next to me was empty, and the sheets cold. Curious, I dragged myself out of the covers and padded to the living area, only to see Penny and George rushing around our kitchenette.

Oh, that kitchenette brought back memories of old English conversations and good men.

"Hey, morning!" Penny chirped on seeing me. She hadn't suffered as much damage as I did in the mugging, of course, getting away with a sprained ankle and a grazed knee, while I had trouble breathing because of my bruised ribs.

"Morning, Pen." I smiled, "Morning, Georgie!"

"Morning, Ma." he smiled his adorably cute, toothy smile that made me want to rush over and give him a bear hug, hurting chest be damned, "We're fixing you breakfast!"

"Really now." I giggled as I sat down on the bar stool at the counter.

"Yep." Penny nodded, whisking some eggs, "By the way, Georgie here told me a few things about yesterday."

I stared back, surprised at the turn of events. One moment we were having a jolly good breakfast, and the very next it had turned into the Spanish Inquisition. Penny sensed, and instantly raised her hands in an effort to placate me.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it." she said softly.

"You're right." I swallowed, eyeing George, who was shaking out corn flakes into three bowls, "I don't."

"Later?" she enquired, following my eyes.

"Never" I said slowly, turning to her, "Not everything needs to be talked about."

She stared at me for a second before snorting loudly, "Says the woman who has cried on my shoulder for years about every bloody thing! I am going to kill both of these men, if that's what it takes to see my babe happy again! What in the-"

My ringing phone cut her tirade short, and she leaned in to see the caller-id with me.

Shantanu, it read.

I checked the clock - 7:32 am in New York...which meant that it was around half past four in the morning in LA. Gingerly, I turned the phone in my hand, wondering if I should receive it, when, in a shot of courage, I swiped it green.

"Hey, Shantanu!" I tried to infuse some cheer into my confused tone. I sincerely hoped that Neil hadn't set his brother up to apologise to me.

"BHABHIIIIII" came the ecstatic greeting, "I hope it's not too early there."

"No, it isn't" I smiled at his perennial enthusiasm, "I was awake already, if that's what you're enquiring about."

"Oh great, great..." he quietened, "Bhabhi...I wanted to talk about something to you...if you don't find it too intrusive or creepy..."

Oh Lord, here it comes, the awkward apology.

"No, no, go on ahead" I said instead.

"You see..." he began awkwardly, "in most stories, when a man falls in love and needs to turn to someone of the female...gender for advice...he usually turns to his best friend or sister..."

"Oookaaaayy" I was confused now, plain and simple.

"Bhabhi, I don't have a sister, or a girl best friend" he said plainly, "I...I need some help..."

Oh thank God.

"Come on then, you little player, what's your game?" I teased him.

"You...you don't think that it's too awkward that I'm asking you?" he sounded bewildered.

"You're up at 4:30 in the morning, asking a woman you barely know about advice on love" I laughed, "I think we are past awkward now. Come on, shoot."

"Well...first I need a sort of favor...I'm coming back to New York tonight and I need a place to crash... is it okay if I crash in yours?"

I stared at the bowl of cornflakes that George placed in front of me, thinking. Sure, I had been a Lady once, a woman of peerage, but I came from India, where you ALWAYS crash at your relatives' place. In fact, taking a hotel room is considered insulting to the relative that stays in the city.

"Of course" I replied, "but I can only offer you the living room couch...I have a flatmate."

"Doesn't matter" Shantanu sighed, "I don't do much of sleeping nowadays."

"Come on then, what is this 'love' you talk about?" I laughed, digging my spoon into my bowl.

"I'll tell you tonight if you're up for a late night story" he said lightly.

"Sure" I shrugged, "Tonight then?"

"Yep. Thanks Bhabhi!"

I smiled and cut the call, only to face two very curious pairs of eyes looking back at me from the other end of the counter. I saw them look at each other, and then again at me. George seemed perplexed, and Penny confused.

"Neil's brother is gonna crash here for a few days, cool?" I asked.

"He has a brother?" Penny's eyes bugged out, but it was George who surprised me more.

"Another man?" he wailed as if betrayed, sounding exactly like his father.

**

Neil's POV

It was close to ten in the morning when Stacie stormed out. I crashed onto the living room couch, much like I had the night before in a drunken stupor, head in my hands. Of course I knew that I was in the wrong, but did everyone had to come up and rub my face in it? And what was the deal with Stacie landing up at my place? Saying that she missed this, missed us? After what she had done to me, she had absolutely no bloody right to talk like this! As if she was the correct one, and I was this louse duping this other kind woman.

When I had asked my parents if we could meet Dhati, had I seen her face? NO.

Had I refused dowry because she looked like Stacie? Hell no. I did it because I had a shred of self-respect.

Had I proposed to Dhati because she looked like Stacie? No. I did it because she needed my help, and I wanted to be the one to help her.

Had I defended Dhati against Michael solely because she looked like Stacie? No. I did it because she was a woman wronged, and everyone knew it.

What was my fault? The fact that I had disregarded my mother's command to "not stretch this too long, because we have to see Savita auntie's daughter"? Yes, yes, I had done that because she looked like Stacie. What are you going to do about that?

Was I initially attracted to her because she looked strikingly like the woman who had trod upon my heart and blasted it to smithereens? Yes. Is it wrong to be attracted because of something like that?

Because I know who I was in love with. The woman I fell for was a woman who didn't want to fall for me, the woman I wanted to protect had been made so tough by adversities that she didn't need protection, the woman I wanted to spend a lifetime treating as a queen felt so less of herself that she had offered me half her bank account to marry me.

She was one complicated, difficult woman, so easy to break, so easy to hurt. A brilliant paradox that I wanted to spend a lifetime figuring out. Was it so wrong of me, then, to have been attracted to her because she looked like a future I had once wanted but never got?

I checked my clock - five past ten in the morning, a working morning, which mean that Dhati was at work, and that I would be missing yet another day of mine.

There was only one way to solve this issue- work. That's right, I sighed, getting up, my work was lagging behind, and if I had to keep up with my job, I had to do something about it. I would call her at around eight o'clock, her time, when she would be free, and maybe I could solve whatever misgivings she had about yesterday before I eased her into this mess.

**

In my frenzy of work, I forgot that New York was three hours ahead of LA, and chanced upon the clock only when it struck seven here.

Shit,shit, shit, I muttered, picking up my phone, it must be around ten in the night there!

Anyway, I dialed her number and waited with bated breath for her to pick up. At the eight ring, someone did, but it sure as hell wasn't Dhati.

"What did you tell my mom last night?" asked an imperious voice from the other side, sounding much like a small child.

"Who is this?" I asked, praying it wasn't the wrong number.

"George" snapped the acerbic voice, "Mom was crying, what did you tell her!?"

"George" I sighed, not even wanting to understand what he was doing at New York with Dhati, and how he knew about last night's mishap, "Just give your mom the phone, alright, it's between her and me."

"If you're going to hurt her, you'll have to go through me" he shrilled.

Before I could edge in a word otherwise, I heard Dhati's voice in the background.

"Are you talking to someone, love?" she was asking.

"No" I heard George reply back stoutly, "I'm playing a game."

"Sleep soon, love" I heard her again.

"One night won't hurt, right?"

My head snapped up on hearing the last sentence. Oh I knew that voice, I could recognize it anywhere. Sure, Stacie had warned that Shantanu was going back to New York, but what the hell was he doing in her apartment? And why was the child there? Was Penny back?

The voices moved away, and once again it was silent, save for the child's breaths on the phone.

"I will not let you treat my mom like crap" the child warned me in a dead-serious tone, "My mom is worth a thousand of you."

"You don't know anything!" I snapped in frustration at having to listen to a lecture from a child too. Everyone was siding with Dhati, every-fuckin-one!

"My dad hurt her arms, but she didn't cry!" George whisper-screamed, "One call to you and she cried for half an hour! Just sat there like a zombie and cried! Stay away from my mom, you're hurting her!"

I cut the call in disgust.

People always side with a woman when she is hurting, or when she cries.

What about us men? You don't let us cry. And when we drink ourselves under the table, you call us drunks, wastrels.

What about our worth? What about us when we hurt? Who protects us?

***

"For All We Know" - Karen and Richard Carpenter

Love, look at the two of us

Strangers in many ways.

We've got a lifetime to share

So much to say.

And as we go

From day to day,

I'll feel you close to me

But time alone will tell.

Let's take a lifetime to say

"I knew you well"

For only time will tell us so...

And love may grow

For all we know.

PS, I also did tear up because Dad and I listened to this song a lot when I was a child, and I never truly understood the import of these words until a personal incident. You know what they say, sometimes a lyric can really put things in perspective:)

Until the next one, I rest,

Ellanie