“I know, I know,” she smiled. She held no hard feelings. He had returned home to Delhi after his course, and there had been nothing to do about it. His parents were old, and he did not plan to leave them. Truthfully, she hadn’t been too bummed either. They really were a great six months, all things considered.
“Now that we are both here,” Khalil leaned closer, their umbrella heads knocking as he pushed his head under hers. That charming move had gotten her a time or two. “What does your life look like?”
“A blur.” She leaned in, walking closer to him. “I wake up and a month has passed. I wake up again and two years have passed.”
He winced playfully.
“Stop. You head your channel’s North beat. You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“I’m still here, aren't I?”
“Yeah, thanks again for that.”
“I,”he pointed a finger at his chest. “Am supposed to be wooed byyou.” He pointed it at hers. “And I am doing all the sweet talk. You are a pathetic Media Head.”
“I spent all day wooing you!” She gasped. “Kahl!”
They stopped at the closed door of the outhouse, and she pulled her umbrella shut. His face softened. He had started to keep a beard now, but he smiled just like the old Kahl. He closed his umbrella, stepped forward and held her shoulders — “It was so good seeing you, Am.”
“Same here.”
He pulled her in an embrace, and Amaal wrapped her arms around his shoulders, coming face to face with Samar behind him.
If she wasn’t hugging Khalil, she would have recoiled.
He looked like he had committed genocide and come home. His dark eyes bore into hers. “Excuse me,” he bit out to Khalil, eyes still on her.
“Sorry,” Khalil pulled her out of his embrace, but kept his arms around her, moving them both to the side. Amaal stared in horror as Samar rounded them, and Khalil finally saw who it was.
“Oh, hello. Dr. Samar Dixit, is it?” He finally let her go and extended a hand to Samar. Amaal stood there as Samar shook his hand, his long brown coat his only cover from this snow. He wore formals today but looked like the wild animal he usually did in his T-shirts and cargoes.
“My name is Khalil Khan. I’m the head of North and North West at Star.”
“I know.”
Khalil made a surprised sound, then glanced at her — “You talk about me, Am?”
“You were on our Most Wanted list,” she joked. But really, hewasthe top name. The more higher-ups at channels were in their pockets, the more coverage, and the more right kind of coverage they got.
“I can imagine you throwing darts at my face.”
She smirked.
“More on that soon,” Khalil stepped back. “I’ll take off now. I’m back in Kashmir next week but I won’t have the entire day. Let me know if you are up for a drink. We can also talk shop for a while.”
“I will. Thanks again, Khalil.”
“Any time.”
He opened his umbrella, nodded at Samar and set off for his car.
“How was Kashmir University?” She asked Samar. He was looking at Khalil walking away.
“Samar?”
He did not stop looking until after Khalil was out of their sight. Then, his eyes came to her. And they were just as menacing as they had been a minute ago. She had always seen him cold. Suddenly, he was seething.
“What’s wrong?”
