Page 34 of Born in Grief

“I hate you.” Dhrithi glared at him, fury and humiliation streaming through her.

“Likewise Goody. Now get in the fucking car.”

Amay sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stepped between the two warring parties.

“Dhrithi please,” he said, looking at her for the first time that day.

She stared at him, tangled, twisted emotions weaving through her as she struggled to make sense of what was happening. Fuck her life. Dhrithi firmed her lips, blinking back ever-present tears and stepped out of his reassuring grip. She knew what she had to do.

“Do it for me,” he added before she could say anything, aiming a rocket launcher at her shaky resolve. “Please?”

“Come on, Goody.” Ishaan watched the two of them, an unreadable look in his eyes. “You owe him. Get in the damned car.”

She got in the damned car.

Chapter Twenty

AMAY

“I did not volunteer to be her babysitter.”

Amay sighed as he shut his front door behind him. He looked over to where Ishaan was sprawled on the couch, remote aimed at the large screen television on the wall in front of him. He walked over and dropped on to the couch beside him, shoving Ishaan’s legs out of the way.

“You’re clearly not babysitting her if you’re in my flat. Why haven’t you gone back to yours?”

“You have food,” Ishaan muttered, holding up a plate heaped with chicken curry and rice.

When Amay had gotten his first residency stint at a hospital in Mumbai, Ishaan had decided that he would base his start up there too. Virat had always been a bit of a nomad but there had never been any question that his roots would be planted where his friends were.

They’d initially rented a small flat together in Khar. Those were still some of the best days of Amay’s life, coming home to hisfriends after a long day of work and eating burnt Maggi noodles with them, burnt only because Ishaan could burn water if he set his mind to it.

It was the two of them who had taught Amay what family means, showing up for him over and over again until he’d stopped questioning it. It didn’t matter that they weren’t related through blood. It mattered that they had his back, unquestioningly and unrelentingly.

When they’d eventually moved up in life, it had been a no brainer to take, to rent initially and then to buy, three flats in the same building, so they had their privacy and space and yet were close to each other. They ended up spending most of their time in each other’s homes but for the sake of it, they had their own space to go back to.

“Is she okay?” Amay asked, the question burning his tongue until it was asked. He grabbed the spare fork Ishaan had kept ready for him and scooped up a mouthful from Ishaan’s plate, ignoring Ishaan’s sideways glance at his question.

When Ishaan didn’t answer, Amay looked at him. “What?” he asked.

Ishaan shrugged. “I didn’t hang around to ask her detailed questions about her mental or physical health.”

Amay wanted to smack him, but he controlled himself, forking up another mouthful instead.

Ishaan sighed and handed him the entire plate. He stood up and walked over to the open plan kitchen to serve himself some more food from the dishes laid out there.

“What the fuck are you doing man?” he asked as he spooned more food on to another plate.

Amay shook his head. “Don’t start,” he told his friend.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you fell for her? Do you remember how absolutely gutted you were when she broke your heart and then ground it into the dust? Do you remember what it felt like when she used you and threw you away like soiled toilet paper?”

“I remember,” Amay said mildly. “I was the one who lived through it, ifyouremember.”

“Then why the fuck do you want to go through it again?” Baffled, Ishaan strode over to where Amay sat. “More chicken?” he asked gruffly. When Amay shook his head, he sat down beside him.

Amay considered ignoring the question but this was Ishaan. You couldn’t ignore Ishaan. It just wasn’t possible.

“Her husband tried to kill her. Her family has already abandoned her and so has Varun’s.”

---