Time is like water. The days, which feel like drops, eventually form into a continuous stream which flows by in a flash. That's exactly what it feels like having Manish back in my life. And I'm eternally grateful that the stream that I was blessed with felt cool and refreshing. I'm even more grateful that in that stream, there have been little droplets of days that were characterized by joyously random visits to each other's apartments.

    Today happens to be one of those randomly amazing visits. Two hours before this, Manish sent me a text with the magical word: coffee. He never forgot one of my absolute weaknesses, and I both applaud him and curse him. I applaud him because he always uplifts my mood with a cup of coffee, but he knows exactly what my weakness is. If he ever wants to lure me into a trap, he knows that coffee is all it takes.

    I half sprint, half walk to the apartment. As usual, my fingers pinch my key chain, as the little jingles from my keys ring through the air. I tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear and scratch my nose, as the wind blew a strand onto it and caused a slight itch.

It doesn't take long for me to find the familiar apartment in which I've consumed endless cups of coffee and talked with Manish for what seems like centuries. With excitement bursting inside of me like a bunch of firecrackers on Diwali, I knock on the door. One hand, bunched into a fist, raps on the door, while the other attempts to pull off my shoe. I try to do so without tripping and falling flat onto my face, as I hear little footsteps inch towards the door.

Eventually, the door swings open, and Manish is standing right there to greet me with his infectiously warm smile and optimism. I can tell that he's embedded in a deep conversation with someone extremely close to him, due to the glow that tinges his cheeks and the laugh that is embedded in his throat when he opens the door. The glow that is so faintly present on his cheeks intensifies when he sees me, along with the smile that is gently stretching out on his lips.

"Hey, come in, Jaya!" he greets enthusiastically, as he steps aside to let me in.

I give him a slight smile, and as I inch inside the apartment, I hear a familiar female voice squeal, "Jaya is here?!"

My eyes dart towards the source of my voice, and my jaw drops in slight surprise.

Standing right there is Sandhya Aunty, Manish's mom, who also happens to be one of my favorite people to walk this earth. When my eyes gain sight of her, there's only one thought that crosses my mind: Holy shit, she has barely aged.

Her olive skin is still glowing and fresh, with barely any wrinkles etched in it. Her warm smile and twinkling eyes, which Manish inherited, haven't lost one ounce of their shine. The only difference that I notice are a few gray hairs embedded in her ravenous mane.

When she sees me, her face erupts in a mixture of shock and euphoria. "Jaya, look at you! It's so good to see you!" she squeals, as she bolts towards me for a hug. I don't hesitate for one second, as I throw my arms around her. She wraps her arms around me and the sheer pressure at which she squeezes is enough to crush my lungs to dust. She may be small, but she does pack a huge punch.

Thankfully, she doesn't suffocate me for too long before she lets go and squeals at me a little bit more. "Manish told me you had become even more beautiful, but he didn't tell me that you were this gorgeous!"

Manish's eyes widen with shock, as a tinge of embarrassment glows on his cheeks. "Ma!" he complains, as he gently places a hand on her shoulder to stop her from annihilating his character in front of me. A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads at my chest for a number of reasons. One being how good it is to see Sandhya Aunty again, but two for knowing that Manish thought I had become more beautiful.

Aunty scoffs and removes the hand from her shoulder. "I think he'll be mad at me if I say any more. So, what are you up to nowadays, beta?"

A little smile curls at my lips, as I say, "Aunty, I'm a doctor now!" She gasps a little bit, as she looks back at Manish with an even more surprised look on her face. I try to back away in case she bursts with excitement, and I happen to be caught in it.

"Oh my god, you're a doctor now! Look at you, saving lives. I'm so proud. I always knew you had it in you to become a doctor!"

I feel like my cheeks are going to explode from the sheer amount of smiling that I'm doing. Instead of a glow, the embarrassment is now burning on Manish's face, as he steps back so that his character isn't assassinated any more.

"I heard screaming, what's going on?" I hear another familiar voice boom from the other end of the apartment. Immediately, I know that is Rajiv Uncle, Manish's dad. Suddenly, my expectations are replaced with a figure that can tower over New York City and a voice that can effortlessly boom across a football stadium.

Surely enough, I see Rajiv Uncle stomp out of the corner of the room. His sunken eyes also illuminate when they notice my presence, and his jaw falls open in shock. "Jaya! Oh my god!" he rumbles, as he marches towards me. I continue to giggle like a toddler on laughing gas, as Rajiv Uncle also goes in for a hug. I mentally prepare myself for my bones being crushed into dust, as uncle's burly arms wrap arounds me and squeeze out whatever oxygen that's left in my lungs.

I crane my head around to see Manish looking very concerned, like Uncle will crush my spine anytime soon. Thankfully, Uncle knows the limit, and lets go of me before he shatters my skeleton completely. "You look amazing, Jaya! Has my hearing gone bad these past few years or did Aunty say that you've become a doctor?"

I snort a little bit, as Manish himself bursts out into a fit of giggles. Uncle has always had that little sense of humor that could make the saddest person giggle. "You heard right. I'm a doctor now!"

Uncle's eyes and smile melt into a look of pure satisfaction, as he claps down on my shoulder as a way of saying, "I'm so proud of you." He then gives a little pat on the back, which can definitely dislodge a few disks in my spine if he wanted, before Manish interjects.

"Mumma, papa, can you help me out in the kitchen? It's kind of a mess and you guys are much more skilled than I am."

Both Uncle and Aunty give him a nod, as Manish turns back to address me. "Jaya, you can sit down on the couch. I'll bring drinks in a second."

I nod a little bit, following that up with, "No problem," and turn around to make my way to the couch.

Before I can flop back on it and relax, I hear a treacherously familiar voice say, "Jaya?" I feel my heart drop 50 feet in one second to the bottom of my chest. That voice is so unsettlingly familiar and it causes a whole wave of memories to completely flash through my mind.

As I feel chills prickling down my spine, I turn around, and the one person who ruined my teenage and early adult years is standing there. Isha, Manish's younger sister, is expecting me to start off the conversation, as her eyes are scanning me all over.

The effect of widowhood and motherhood is etched into her face in the form of bag accented under eyes and the noticeable absence of sparkling youth in her irises. I try to gulp back the unpleasant memories flooding my mind and try to be nice. "Hi, Isha," I start, as I hear the little pattering of feet leading up to where we're standing.

A little two-and-a-half-foot toddler waddles up to her calf, and his tiny eyes dart towards me to judge who I am. I flash him a little smile, as he inches up to me a little bit. His cheeks are inflated, like Sandhya Aunty has been feeding him good food throughout his life, as a sense of raw innocence illuminates his tiny brown eyes. It's immediately evident that it's Manish's nephew, Nishant, because he clearly has Isha's eyes and skin tone. The only difference is the nose and smile, which I assume he inherited from his late father.

In the quietest voice ever, he squeaks out, "Hi."

I kneel down to be able to talk to him eye to eye, and I reply, "Hi! What's your name?" in an attempt to make some small talk.

"Nishant," he replies, as Isha snickers a little bit at her son. I nod, as I can't help but smile from how adorable he is.

"It's nice to meet you. How old are you?"

Slowly, he counts on his stubby little fingers how old he is, and he holds up 3. "I'm 3!"

I giggle a little bit, as Isha herself smiles a little bit more. I can't get over how cute he is, and he's the type of child you wouldn't mind babysitting for a few days as the parents take off.

From the distance, I hear Sandhya Aunty call, "Nishant, beta, idhar aao! (come here!)" With that call, he waddles off into the kitchen like one of those waddling penguins in Happy Feet. I look back at Isha, and that temporary burst of joy that radiated off of Nishant is now crushed by a dark cloud of unfortunate memories.

She smiles a little bit to try to ease the awkwardness. "How are you? Manish told me that you're a doctor now, so congrats! How's that treating you?"

My heart is beating so loudly I'm sure the doctors in Vienna can hear it clearly. I gulp back a little bit of my nerves, and try to answer the question cohesively so that I don't sound like a blubbering idiot. "Doing alright. How about you? It's been a long time."

A long time since you dragged me down, I think to myself, as all the memories of how she constantly taunted and put me down continue to weigh on my mind. Isha shrugs, as she fiddles with her fingers a little bit. "Nothing too special. Just working and trying to live life, ya know? But it's interesting how Manish and you found each other again after so long. Kind of miraculous."

Somehow, if it was even possible, my heart continues to beat even louder. This time, the whole world should probably be able to hear how it beats like someone is banging a hammer against my ribs.

I let out a nervous sigh, because Isha would always start off her torments with these kinds of comments before laying in an insult that cut deep. And dealing with all these reminders is like having those wounds reopened when they just started to heal.

As the pain starts to sting in the depths of my chest, I see Manish prance out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a very apologetic look currently plastered on his face. "Sorry that took so long, Jaya. Things have been crazy all day. Here's your coffee."

He hands me the cup of goodness before turning to Isha and saying, "Mumma needs your help, by the way."

Isha nods, and then runs off to the kitchen to help Sandhya Aunty in whatever way she possibly can. Manish glances back at me, and his eyes widen when he sees me standing there in the middle of his living room. "Oh, you can sit down if you want! The couch isn't off limits," he exclaims, as he beckons for me to sit down and enjoy my cup of coffee.

I snicker a little bit to hide the pain that's currently stinging my chest and the pits of my stomach, as I flop back to enjoy my coffee. As I'm sipping through the cup and chatting with Manish, my eye occasionally steals a glance from Isha, who randomly passes by.

Seeing her right there, feet away from me is almost like a crude reminder of the pain that I went through right before Manish left. All her taunts and insults are rushing back to me and ringing in my head like Monday morning alarm clocks.

All those insults and taunts bring back a painful wave filled with a reminder of why I never told Manish I loved him. It was all because of her. Eventually, I see the familiar colors of orange, pink, and yellow radiate the sky, which is a telltale sign that I need to get back. I stand up, and announce, "Well, Manish, it's getting late, and I'm back to work tomorrow."

I set my cup down on the coffee table, as I see Manish's luminously joyful face wilt a little bit with sadness. "Aw, that's too bad. Once you're on your next week off, let me know. I'd love to have you back."

A little smile curls at my lips, as the only response I can give to that is a simple nod. "For sure."

We inch towards the door so that I can get out of here and get some work done at my apartment, and as Manish opens the door, he parts with, "Hey, Isha was happy to see you, by the way. She's glad you and I are becoming close friends again."

I turn around, and a little feeling of dread clouds my chest and mind a little bit. I gulp back whatever negativity is perfuming my body, and say, "I'm glad she's happy. Later, Manish."

He smiles again, and parts with, "Take care, Jaya."

    I'm sitting in my car, right outside my apartment, with my fingers pressed to my temples. It's all coming back. It feels like someone just shoved me into a 20 foot sea of terrible memories with no means of escape.

All the insults of how she fed off of my misery, how I'm a terrible influence on Manish, and how he was just better off without me. It all feels like someone is shoving a hot needle through my heart. Despite how much I love how we're getting closer, it's just not possible for me to risk getting hurt emotionally again. It's already happened to me once, and it was the worst thing that has ever happened.

Although I hate myself for doing this, I feel like it's the only solution. I have to distance myself.

I can't go through all these cycles of pain again. I know it will absolutely grind my emotional and mental well being into dust. So that's why when a text pops up from him, saying, "Can't wait to see you on your next days off!"

I can't bring myself to reply. Although it causes more hot needles in my heart, it's absolutely necessary. I keep trying to tell myself, 'It's going to be worth it,' like a broken record.

Even the deepest parts of my mind know that's definitely not going to be true.

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A pretty long chapter. But I think this is one that was down memory lane and an important one too! So what do you think of Ashwini's decision to distance herself from Manish? Let me know.

I hope you liked this chapter! Please vote/comment/share/follow/message if you like my work (both here and on my Instagram [svts.writes]). See you in the next chapter!

Love you guys,

Shree