He smirked. “You are that hangry kinda girl, Doctor?”
Her eyes felt shut, but her mouth curled. A smidge. He felt so good that he did not fight her on the ice cream. Nilay passed her the tissues and turned the car, zooming it back to the suburbs. To home. The ride was spent in silence. But this one was bearable. She wasn’t as sad. Just moody. He drove her to Maya’s house, and that’s when she snapped to life.
“Not here, I am a lane away.”
“Why?”
“I moved out.”
“Is everything ok?”
“Yes…” she let out a hesitant chuckle. “Yes. It’s… Maya’s stupid plan.”
“Do I want to know about this plan?”
“Probably not.”
“You will still tell me,” he commanded, driving along the promenade, following her directions.
“I will not.”
“What else will you do when I am sitting in your hall having coffee?”
“You are supposed to avoid coffee.”
“That means Iwillbe sitting in your hall?”
“Right there,” she pointed, and he drove through the gates of a luxurious apartment building. He parked in the spot that the security directed and got out with her.
“Nilay, thank you,” she murmured, coming around to him, holding her ghaghra up. Her chunari covered most of her chest and he wished he could right it for her so that she would hold her shoulders up, straight, and not like she was defeated. But he knew something about her sensitivities with her body, and it would be a cold day in hell before he did anything to trigger them.
“You are welcome,” he locked his car and slipped the key inside his pocket. “Which floor?”
She stared at him, then shook her head — “I am not…” she wetted her lips, then lowered her voice. “It was one night. I cannot do that again.”
“What part of hall and coffee did you not hear?”
“I know what coffee means.”
“What does it mean?”
“Sleeping together.”
“Really?” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I thought it means hosting someone and chatting over a cup. Or two.”
Her lips pressed together, a sneer close on its tail. He loved it, but refrained from showing it.
“I am not up for chatting either.”
“Then give me water. I haven’t had any after the pizza.”
Defeated, she trudged into the reception, making him follow with a smirk. He hated to see her defeated, unless, she was defeated by his hardheaded demands. Then, he probably was the happiest man alive. It was rare that she bowed to them, so when she did, he savoured it. Shamelessly.
“Stop smiling.”
He glanced up, and found her glaring at him through the smoked glass of the lift doors. His grin widened. They looked good together, like a couple returning from a friend’s wedding, filled to bursting, ready to go home, get rid of all the finery, strip to pyjamas and boxers and lie down in bed for an afternoon nap. He didn’t even take afternoon naps, and yet he found himself savouring the feeling.
She led him to her floor and down the alley, opening the door and holding it until he took the handle from her and pushed it shut. He wasn't a man who held doors open for people. People held doors open for him. He was not a man who closed doors. He closed it now, turning in time to see her push the curtains open and let the mild afternoon sun in. The hall was massive, a long curved sofa looking spacious enough to lay out all his fabrics and design equipment on as he worked. The open kitchen looked bare. Empty.
