Nope. You’ve already said enough by saying nothing at all these past few days.
‘Kavya,’ Abhinav called from across the room. ‘Can you come check the frame for the next shot?’
I gave Neil one last look before slipping my arm free and walking away.
nineteen
A Series of Unfortunate Events
Icouldn’thelp but wonder if Keshav bhaiya would still be treating Neil’s taste-buds to his top-shelf whisky had he known where his tongue had been last week.Highlydoubtful, considering he’d nearly murdered Arjun the day he’d found out about us. But tonight, he was too deep in host-mode to pick up on the undercurrent between us, buzzing around the living room and refilling drinks like his life depended on it.
This had not been on the agenda for the day. When we wrapped the shoot around sunset, the original plan was to drop everyone back at the hotel and maybe take Tanya out to Mall Road for dinner. Simple, drama-free and, more importantly, Neil-free. But then my brother showed up to pick me up, started being pally with everyone—especially Neil, who’d complimented his Thar (sweet ride, bro) and immediately won him over—and within five minutes, he’d invited the whole crew home.
Most of them (thankfully) declined and scattered off into the night, but Neil seemed to think the idea wasfantastic. Abhinav and Rhea chimed in with enthusiastic nods. So I had no choice but to telepathically beg Tanya to come with us for moral support.
So far, nothing catastrophic had happened, but I could feel the universe warming up in the background. We’d wrapped updinner a while ago and were now spread across the living room, cupping our drinks in our hands as rain tapped lightly on the tiled roof of our hillside cottage. Rhea was curled up on the rug with a glass of wine, Abhinav was sinking into the single-seater like he planned to nap there, Tanya was browsing through the books on the wall-mounted wooden shelf and Neil was wedged between my father and brother on the couch, making polite conversation. My mother hovered with a plate of bakery sweet treats she was forcing on anyone who made eye contact. And as if all that wasn’t weird enough, Arjun decided to wander in with a sack of fresh green apples slung over his shoulder.
He bent down to touch my mum’s feet before asking where he should put the apples. ‘Kavya will show you,’ she said, cupping his face with that maternal warmth he always seemed to bring out in her. Reluctantly, I peeled myself off the rug and led Arjun into the kitchen.
‘You didn’t have to bring anything.’ I turned my back to him as I set the jute bag on the counter. ‘It’s too much.’
‘It’s just a few apples. Relax.’
But it wasn’t, though. He’d been doing these thoughtful, familiar things all weekend, slipping back into old patterns like no time had passed since our breakup. Offering up his guest house, helping out with the shoot and touching my mom’s feet, for God’s sake. It made me feel weirdly boxed in.
He seemed to sense my discomfort. ‘Hey, look at me,’ he said, leaning against the kitchen counter next to me. ‘I’m not trying to rekindle anything. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you.’
I looked down at my hands, feeling the need to pick at my fingernails.
‘I just want you in my life, however you’ll have me. Friend, emergency contact, guy who feeds you apples … whatever. And if there’s a chance that one day it becomes more … great. If not, that’s okay too.’
He waited patiently until I looked up and met his eyes. There was an earnestness in them that I couldn’t quite shrug off. ‘It doesn’t feel right …’ I finally managed. ‘I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me.’
‘That’s the thing, Kavya … I’m not doing it foryou.’ He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, then dropped his hand to his side and walked out of the kitchen.
I stayed where I was, reeling from what Arjun had said. When I finally reappeared in the living room, face flushed and heart unsettled, I could feel Neil’s eyes on me, searching my face for clues. I pulled a chair from the dining table and sat down, keeping my gaze on the floor.Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
My mother clapped her hands together, interrupting my inner turmoil. ‘Why don’t you kids play that dancing game?’
‘No,’ I said immediately. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘What game?’ Tanya perked up.
Keshav bhaiya grinned. ‘Oh, you don’t know? Kavya basically invented it when she was ten. She used to bully everyone who came home into playing it.’
‘I did not bully anyone,’ I muttered.
‘She even made a manual for it with all the rules,’ he chuckled fondly. ‘It’s like dumb charades, but with Bollywood hook steps. The opposite team gives you a song name and you have to make your team guess it by dancing it out.’
Rhea chimed in from the floor. ‘That sounds likesomuch fun.’
I groaned internally. I’d spent the whole day navigating emotional landmines. Forgive me if I didn’t want to embarrass myself this evening by busting out thumkas in front of not one, but two men I could barely make eye contact with.
‘Can you move the table first? Last time, Kavya almost kicked the vase,’ my father said.
Despite my attempts to kill the idea, the room was already being split into two teams: me, Tanya and Rhea versus Neil, Abhinav, Arjun and Keshav bhaiya. Girls vs boys. My mother appointed herself judge and dad pretended to be uninterested but immediately started giving illegal clues from the sidelines.
The first few rounds went by smoothly. Tanya did a beginner-friendly rendition of ‘It’s the Time to Disco’,Arjun countered with a half-hearted hip shake from ‘Badtameez Dil’,Rhea showcased her classical training with an unfairly graceful ‘Dola Re Dola’ and Keshav bhaiya did Hrithik’s signature move from ‘Ek Pal Ka Jeena’. And then my brother gave me my cue.
