Vikram's fingers tightened against the files till his knuckles turned white. The corners of his eyes tightened and his sharp gaze made her squirm and avert her eyes from him. "Friends?"

"Yes, I-I think we both could use a fresh start," she said, looking down into her lap. The practical part of lauded her decision to call truce, but the betrayed and broken heart of hers refused to lend its support to her decision. The conflict was rife between the two, and beads of perspiration adorned her forehead because of the relentless internal battle.

Vikram's brownish pink lips curled into a sardonic smile and his chest compressed, allowing the breath he held to leave. "Are you doing this out of your free will or do you feel obligated to do this?"

A tiny, the hopelessly optimistic, part of him had hoped the proposition to be the stepping stone for a beautiful future together - the dream he had envisioned five years ago and the one she had shattered - but her hesitant silence dashed his hopes into the ocean of remorse drowning him into its bottoms.

"You don't have to do it out of an obligation, Shikha. If you don't do it out of your free will, you'll hate me more, and if this noose of your contempt tightens anymore, it might just wrench whatever peace I'm left with. I will wait for the day you'll do this because you want it, Shikha, and till then, I'm fine staying in the limbo we are stuck in."

Her wide and exquisite orbs, the ones which threatened to break every facade of his, shot an incredulous look at him. The root of her nose crinkled and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had expected him to jump in elation and accept the hand extended for friendship, and Vikram alone knew the restraint it took for him to abstain from fulfilling her expectations.

With a tense stretch of lips, Vikram stepped away to leave Shikha in her thoughts when her words stopped him in his path. "Did you change after all these years or was I wrong about you for years?" she asked in a quivering tone.

A wry chuckle escaped his lips and the edges of his lips curled into a frown. "Something in me shifted when I learned of my father's infidelity, Shikha. I yearned to shrug away the claws of cynicism for years before you entered my life, and when you entered my life, the task was not that difficult anymore. The light of your altruism dispelled that cynicism, but only to make you its next prey. So, yes, I changed, or rather reverted to that believer I was."

A sneer found its way to her lips when he finished his reply, and Shikha resisted the urge to hurl something in his direction. The sheets crumpled under her unrelenting fingers. He dare speak of her magnanimous nature, the one destroyed by his parsimonious outlook? "How is that you found your better version because of me and I found the worse version of myself because of you? How unfair!" she said, scoffing at the irony.

Vikram tapped the file against his outstretched palm to tide over the storm of remorse, throttling him. His eyes stung with unshed tears, swirling in his eyes and blurring his vision. "Truth be told, Shikha, you needed a bit of skepticism, just like how I needed a more optimistic outlook about life. I won't justify my deeds by sweeping them under the carpet of trying to teach you the reality of life, but disenchantment was something you needed back then."

She sniggered and resisted the sobs lurking at the back of her throat. "I didn't need disenchantment as much as I needed to stay out of your life, Vikram. And you speak as though you started out with the noble intention of preparing me for the rough tides of the life. Don't push your selfishness under the veil of selflessness! Trust me, you did that enough to last for a lifetime," she spat.

Vikram averted his eyes to the ground at the acrid words thrown his way. Her words stabbed the venomous dagger right into his heart and her penetrating gaze twisted the dagger deeper into his heart, and right through his soul. "I should leave. My presence will worsen your delicate condition, and that's the last thing I would want. Take care, Shikha."

Shikha buried her face into her palms and dragged her fingers through her ruffled hair. She wanted to cast away her apprehensions and anger towards him for her unborn, as per the advice of her sister, but how she wished executing the plan was as easy as planning it. Her trembling fingers found their way towards her slight bulge and she ran them over the curve.

"I'm sorry, baby. You deserve a better environment than this, and Maa will leave no stone unturned to ensure the same. It's a promise."

_______________________________________________________

Gentle breeze carried the tantalizing fragrance of the nocturnal blooming flowers in the backyard of Vikram Singhal's mansion. The oscillatory motion of the swing made Shikha wonder if that was how lulling a child to sleep felt like. Shikha's upper lashes entangled in an intangible embrace with the lower ones and she relished the enthralling cooing of the nightingale and the delightful Bollywood music from the 80s and 90s reverberated in her ears through the AirPods.

The pitch dark sky glistened with several celestial bodies as though a child had spilled his glitter over the black granite floor. The fresh air filling her lungs and the rustling of the leaves made it easier for Shikha to lie to herself that all was well.

The sound of approaching footsteps forced her eyes open, and she turned her torso towards the regular tapping sound. "Oh! I didn't know you were here. I'll come-"

Shikha removed the AirPods from her auditory canal and gave in to the irresistible urge of posing a question to him. "Do you think those who die can see us after their death? Do our loved ones watch over us or are they gone forever?" she asked, cutting him across.

The soft light from the lights inside danced over his confused features. His pinched nostrils let out a vexed sigh, and he settled on the opposite edge of the swing. "Do you want them to?" he asked, gazing at the stars playing hide and seek with the interspersed clouds.

"I wish Maa was around. I don't remember her or my father. Jiji does, and till date I couldn't understand whether it was a blessing I couldn't remember them or was it a bane. But now I wish I remembered her. At least I would know how a mother's touch feels, and I could try to emulate the same with my baby. I'm just clueless now," she said, fidgeting with her fingers, which played with the string of her pajamas.

The shaky and raspy tone of hers forced him to train his stormy eyes on her. Her pursed lips and the downward slope of her nose as she tilted her face towards the ground painted a picture that made his heart wrench. The pangs of agony only intensified the chant that kept bellowing in his ears - she deserved better.

An arm draped around her trembling shoulders, a tender kiss into her disheveled hair, whispers of sweet nothings, and her twitching fingers entwined and caressed - she deserved that and more. But strange were the ways of Fate, which had snatched the one who had the right to shower with those reassurances and snatched those rights from the one next to her.

"No one is a born mother, Shikha. You'll do great because you want the best for your child, and the price of ensuring the best doesn't matter to you. Your child will love you," he said, with a reassuring smile dancing on his lips.

"I sure hope so!"

Vikram had not seen it coming when she rested her throbbing head against his broad shoulder. Her action pushed an electric jolt through him and stiffened him for a moment, but he let go of the tension in his muscles and the breath he had held without his conscious knowledge. Inexplicable warmth spread through him and negated the icy torment of his heart by a fraction.

Maybe Fate had not been all that unmerciful.

____________________________________________________