Page 89 of Born in Grief

“After breakfast,” Amay answered. “Don’t worry about it, Dhriths. You’ve got us. We’ll handle it together.”

Having people in her corner was such a surreal experience for her that Dhrithi didn’t know what to do with it. She got off the bed and shuffled over to where Amay was standing, the sheet still wrapped around her body like a shield.

Amay looked down at her, face softening. “Hey you.” The soft words disappeared when his lips met hers, the gentle kiss the perfect start to her day.

“Hey you back,” she murmured, standing on tiptoe and trying to take the kiss further. Much to her frustration, Amay laughed and stepped back.

“We have company,” he said, tipping his head towards the chatter in the kitchen, still grinning like a loon.

“So?” Dhrithi nipped at his jaw, trying to coax him into coming closer.

“Look at you being a bad influence,” he groaned, dipping his head to kiss her hard and deep. They were both breathing hardby the time he pulled back and gave her a light swat on her bottom. “Go get dressed. I’ll get coffee ready for you.”

She muttered to herself, but she shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom. She stopped mid shuffle to ask, “Could you add extra-“

“Sugar substitute? Yes, I’m aware you like it sweet enough to stand a spoon in and that you don’t use regular sugar.”

“And more milk too please.”

“Regular milk or do you need soy or almond?”

“Well, ideally oat milk but-“ She stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing to thin slits as she took in his expression. “Are you making fun of me?”

He started to laugh, loud, belly hurting chuckles.

Her eyes narrowed further. “You’re very laughy this morning.”

“I’m very happy this morning,” he told her, grinning widely. Her heart softened to helpless goo in her chest. “And laughy is not a word, class topper.”

Dhrithi grinned back, taking a step into the bathroom and holding the door open. “I’m not the class topper. Ishaan is. He beat me by half a mark, remember? He has the trophy to prove it.”

“Dhriths,” Amay said seriously, just before she shut the door. She opened it wider and looked at him questioningly.

“I can steal that trophy for you.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Do you really mean that?”

“Just say the word.”

“Ishaan would lose his mind.”

“That,” Amay said, thoughtfully. “Would be an added bonus.”

She was still laughing when she shut the bathroom door and moved to brush her teeth. It wasn’t possible to be this happy, was it? She felt like she would just burst, and happiness would ooze out of her pores, hopefully infecting everyone else with this delirious madness she seemed to have contracted.

She knew that there was an icky, disgusting mess she had to wade through before her life could even resemble something vaguely normal and yet, she couldn’t wait to get start on building her life, one icky day at a time.

She showered quickly, changing into a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank and heading out to see if her English breakfast was ready. Her stomach was protesting loudly at the wait for it.

She found Ishaan staring morosely at two boiled eggs as he shot covetous looks at the spread Virat was laying out. Clearly, it wasn’t his cheat day.

Amay appeared at her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing the top of her head. “Coffee,” he murmured, handing her a steaming hot mug.

She kissed him in gratitude and appreciation before taking a deep sip from the mug. The flavour hit her tongue, making her moan before it registered. She squealed and turned to throw her arms around him. “You got me oat milk.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Ishaan narrowed his eyes at Amay. “And where didyouproduce oat milk from, you philistine?”

“I know a place,” Amay shrugged evasively.

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