Chapter 20
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 his friends 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, if you remember.”
“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.”
“Well boo fucking hoo,” Ishaan muttered. “She was the one who had the big fat Indian wedding with that chuth, didn’t she? She dumped you for him, didn’t she?”
“I know what she did and what she didn’t do, Ish,” Amay snapped irritably. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“But you’ve forgiven, is that it?”
“She’s all alone okay?” Amay’s volume rose, his temper fraying. “All fucking alone.”
“Why is that your problem?” Ishaan roared back, his plate tilting dangerously in his hand.
“BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE ALL ALONE!”
Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, chests heaving and emotions flaring.
“Well fuck you!” Ishaan said finally. “What are Virat and I? Chopped liver?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Amay put the plate down and scrubbed his hands over his face.
Ishaan took an extra-large bite of his food, looking a lot like a mutinous toddler. “Well, what did you mean?” he muttered.
“Guys?”
The mild question from the other end of the hall had them both snapping, “What?”
Virat stood in the entryway, a suitcase at his foot, eyebrows raised as he took in their shouting match. “I just wanted to know why there is a woman sleeping in my bed,” he added mildly.
“You’re back,” Amay said stupidly.
Virat’s eyebrows went even higher. “I am. You asked me to come back, remember?”
“Yes but…” He glanced at Ishaan who shrugged and stuffed his face with more food. “I thought you said a couple of days. You said you’d be back in a couple of days. You were tracking the Varun situation.”
“Yeah, I was. I still am.” Virat left his suitcase against the wall and sauntered over to the kitchen. “Is there more food?”
Amay and Ishaan nodded, neither saying anything.
“So, which one of you dickheads is going to tell me why there is a strange woman sleeping in my bed?”
Ishaan pointed his fork at Amay. “He will. It’s his woman.”
With a muffled growl Amay turned on him. “She is not my woman.”
“Dhrithi.” Virat breathed the name. “Of course. I should have put it together.”
“Look, all I’m trying to do is help her okay? Be a friend of sorts.”
“A friend? You’re not her friend,” Ishaan growled back. “You haven’t been in years. You were her friend. You’re not anymore.”
“She was a child back then.” Amay was back to shouting. “We were all children. And in case you haven’t noticed, Ish, some of us have grown up. We don’t hold on to childhood grudges. Virat, tell him! Tell him that bringing Dhrithi here was the right thing to do.”
“Actually, I think it’s the worst thing you could have done,” Virat said quietly.