She’d turned back once to look at him as she walked away. If he’d made the smallest gesture he knew she’d have run back into his arms, but he’d kept his face blank, wiped clean of all expression and emotion. She hadn’t looked back again.
Back in her room, Riya was thinking of the same morning, and the sense of utter desolation that had swept over her when she’d left Dhruv. A light tap on the door made her restrain herself from bursting into a flood of uncharacteristic tears.
‘Come in,’ she said gruffly.
Dhruv opened the door and stepped in, shutting it behind himself. He sat down next to her and took her hand in both of his.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘I overreacted. I have a bit of a thing about heights.’
Riya nodded, not trusting herself to speak. His hands were warm, slightly rough, and the temptation to fling herself into his arms was stronger than ever. Then a thought struck.
‘You were OK with heights in college,’ she remembered. ‘You used to go on all those treks and things.’
Dhruv squeezed her hand slightly, and said after a brief pause, ‘Yes, well, I’m not acrophobic. I saw a worker on one of my projects fall from the roof of a thirty-story building many years ago. Died instantly. I haven’t been able to stand seeing anyone even lean out of a window since that.’
Riya’s marshmallow heart immediately brimmed over with sympathy. ‘That must have been terrible,’ she blurted.
Dhruv shrugged, wishing he hadn’t brought the subject up. It wasn’t something he normally did—exposing vulnerability to win someone’s sympathy. He hadn’t done it consciously this time, either, but he’d felt a need to justify his behaviour. And not just his behaviour today. He looked away, pushing a hand through his hair. God, this was difficult. Seeing her walk away from him in anger today had brought back the guilt about how unfairly he’d treated her in the past, and he wasn’t prepared to deal with it right now.
Riya felt her throat close up as she surveyed his back. The instant of sympathy she’d felt for him had temporarily breached her defences, and the old, confused sense of loss threatened to swamp her. She gritted her teeth and looked down for a second. She’d spent the day trying to convince herself that she’d put the past behind her, but who was she kidding? The past was right there, waiting for her to let her guard slip, and the sooner she figured out a way to deal with it the better.
‘Dhruv?’ she said finally, and he turned back to her. ‘I never did get to ask you in college, but it’s bothered me all these years—why did you change?’ Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that she could hardly hear herself speak, but she couldn’t stop herself continuing. ‘I know I threw myself at you a bit at the end, and you kept trying to knock some sense into me—was that it?’
‘Not really,’ Dhruv said, and after a little pause he continued very formally with a shuttered look on his face that she remembered from college. ‘I don’t believe in explanations, Riya—they always end up sounding like excuses. But I do apologise. You deserved a lot better from me, and I let you down.’
The temptation to say more was almost irresistible, but his reasons for dumping her were too closely linked to the crisis his family had been going through at that time. The old habits of reticence and concealment died hard—even after so much time. It seemed preferable that she think him fickle and irresponsible rather than know the real reason.
‘I’d better join the others—Gaurav looked like he needed help with the food.’ While Riya stared at him in disbelief, he turned around and went out of the room, shutting the door gently but firmly behind him.
‘So much for waiting half a lifetime to figure out what the hell happened,’ Riya said out loud to the closed door.
The sense of frustration was so strong she felt like screaming. Twelve years since they’d parted, and explanations still didn’t seem to be among Dhruv Malhotra’s strong points. In a way, she felt worse than she would have if he hadn’t apologised—his getting angry or avoiding the topic would have made her feel that it really bothered him deep down, but the empty token of an apology relegated the whole college episode to an unfortunate but not very important incident in his distant past.
Suddenly furious, she picked up a little ceramic troll from her bedside table and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and smashed into pieces with a most satisfying crash.
Her door opened a little, and Gaurav poked his head inside cautiously. ‘All OK?’ he asked.
Riya looked up and gave him a tight little smile. ‘Yes. Your cousin is the...the most infuriating man I’ve met in my life—not that I care!’ She didn’t want to let Gaurav know quite how upset she was. He seemed to be fairly close to Dhruv, and given his general ineptitude at keeping his mouth shut the chances of him letting something slip were high.
Gaurav’s pleasant face was creased with worry. ‘He’s leaving tomorrow, but he’ll be there at the wedding. You sure it’s OK?’
‘I’ll avoid him,’ Riya said. And when Gaurav’s frown didn’t go away she said, ‘Relax. I won’t smash his face in during the ceremony. Or will it be simpler if I don’t come?’
Gaurav’s expression changed and he came in swiftly, sitting down next to her and saying earnestly, ‘I wouldn’t be getting married if you hadn’t helped sort out things with Madhulika’s parents. If anyone needs to skip the wedding, it’ll be Dhruv.’
Sudden tears came to Riya’s eyes, and she fumbled for Gaurav’s hand and squeezed it hard. He’d been her best friend for many years now, and he’d been miserable when Madhulika’s parents had refused to let their daughter marry him. They’d picked out a Bengali bridegroom for her, and had had no time for the brash, burly Punjabi man their daughter had chosen. Riya had played the go-between for some months, gradually bringing them round to the idea, and Gaurav had been absurdly grateful ever since.
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘He’s family—you can’t tell him not to come. I promise I’ll behave.’
‘Come on out and join us, then,’ Gaurav said, gently tugging her to her feet. ‘I’m setting up the karaoke thing on the TV. Don’t bother about Dhruv. Every unmarried girl in the room is making a beeline for him, and he’ll be too busy fighting them off to bother you.’
Riya frowned as she followed Gaurav out. He was right—Dhruv was knee-deep in women, and in spite of herself she couldn’t suppress a little flare of annoyance.
* * *
It was almost three in the morning when the last people left. Chutki had left for her friend’s place at eleven, and Gaurav was dozing on the sofa. Riya started clearing up—there were beer cans and empty disposable plates and glasses scattered all over the room. Dhruv began to help, stacking boxes of half-eaten pizza and carrying them into the kitchen. She silently handed him a few garbage disposal bags, and picked up a broom and mop to clean the floor.
‘Won’t the maid do that tomorrow?’
‘The place will be overrun by cockroaches by then,’ Riya said. ‘Armies of them come crawling in under the door if there’s the slightest bit of food lying around.’
Gaurav looked at them sleepily. ‘A cockroach can live for a week without its head,’ he informed them, and fell asleep quite suddenly, his mouth wide open.
Both Dhruv and Riya cracked