<<NATASHA>>

They say time heals wounds. In my case, it healed some while bringing new ones along. That's probably how I'd summarise my experience in Boston over the past seven months— healing, hurting, re-healing.

Talking about re-healing, there was something I'd been itching to do for a while— but hadn't had the courage to. Until one Saturday.

I followed the address I'd found on the Google Maps until it led me to the back of an old church. I entered the hall with a nameplate that read- Breathing Space support group.

The setting was eerily similar to the ones shown in Hollywood movies. A group of ten people from different ages and backgrounds gathered in a circle to tell a story. A chapter on how life screwed them up in different ways. Then bond over the shared pain or something. I hadn't arrived with much expectations anyway. There was a counselor— a man in his thirties who began with the usual- ‘This was a safe space of no judgement’ kind of speech before motivating us to introduce one by one.

There were a range of responses alright. Some clipped, only sticking to a basic background introduction and purpose while others didn't shy away from unburdening themselves. Everyone was going through something. One was clinically depressed while another had recently lost a loved one through cancer. The most surprising one was a bald, middle- aged man who had served jail time for a certain crime (at least he wasn't a murderer or a rap#st, thank God!) and was turning over a new leaf. Their struggles were so intense that mine felt futile. Though the mediator assured us that the scale of the struggles didn't matter. Pain was a pain, no matter big or small.

Since it was my first visit, I didn't delve much. I spoke about how I came from India for work. How I hoped to be someone who was less scared of my world and more brave to face my future with my head held high. Everyone applauded and even complimented me. It oddly made me feel seen.

Since the session wasn't a total snooze fest, I decided to drop by next weekend. Heard more stories and talked some more. I even struck a conversation with two adults on purpose to check my phobia- meter. I had none. Perhaps Ivy was wrong or those conditions weren't met.

As the session ended after some fun group activities, someone called my name. I turned to see an older brunette woman in her fifties. “Yes?”

“Hi, I'm Isabel Williams. I was captivated by what you shared today,” She introduced humbly while extending her hand partially. I shook it, shooting a small smile. “Sorry if it seems out of the blue, but you remind me of my twenty-seven-year old daughter, Ariel. She lives far away while my hubby is long gone so... I hope we can keep each other company. Also, you're really pretty.”

“Oh, I see...” My voice was weak towards the end. Something about her words of how I reminded her stirred my heartstrings. A smile had already made its way to my lips. “Sure, Isabelle. I'll be happy to. And thank you. You're beautiful, too. What's your ethnicity?”

Thus, we began talking. Guess I found another reason to attend these sessions.

Just like that, another month passed. Days became shorter. Nights colder.

~ ~ ~

I had an ample fill of this bullshit called love. Enough was enough! Perhaps I'd give it a thought after you return to India or I don't know... Forget it. I don't want to think about all this stuff and screw my days over. Leave me alone.

Screw him! I decided not to ponder about Rithik or our (non- existent) relationship anymore. Just like how his highness wanted. I was already freed from the shackles of my family, now I'd be free from relationships as well. No more tears. No heartbreaks. No men. I'd live my life like a free bird without boundaries. At least for the time being. It was liberating.

“So, like a no- nut November but in the female version?” Chanel quipped in with a challenging brow as I proudly talked about my plea to stay away. We were sipping on our respective mojito at a cafe one afternoon after shopping.

“But we don't have nuts, Chanel. Fuck social media! Couldn't even come up with a female version. How about no clit November,” I suggested a name.

Chanel popped her lips from the straw of her glass. “No, darling. It would become NCN, not NNN... Ah, found one! How about No nooky November? It refers to a female partner involved in sex. It slaps!” She suggested like she found a hidden money note under her bed, her green eyes gleaming.

“Magnificent!” I gave a slow clap.

“Nice to see you two getting along,” Kylie spoke in a mock surprise while shooting me ‘I thought you hated her’ look. Well, what could I say? I had a heart of gold. Still I hated her guts that time.

In the midst, the topic of hooking up sprang again. I twirled the straw around the empty glass, getting lost in thought. “If I really, really were to hook up, it should be with someone I don't share an emotional baggage with. Someone who isn't linked to my past or the future. Just the present. That would be totes fun.”

“Doesn't that businessman fit your description then? The one who tried to ask you out a few months ago at a bar,” Kylie reminded me.

“Ah, Cedric. I almost forgot about him,” I answered absentmindedly. Long story short, I came across an older lad at a bar near my office. He reeked of money from head to toe with his pristine suit and watch. I only kept him company to pass my time since he seemed lonely. Perhaps he got swept by our conversations about business, society and engineering since he  asked me out on a casual date. I said yes, just to see where a rich man takes me. He took me to a golf course, followed by lunch at a 5-star restaurant with dishes I couldn't pronounce. I felt premium— like a protagonist from a Wattpad novel that featured a rich CEO.

By the end of the day, Cedric offered to spend the night at a luxurious penthouse. While the offer was equally enticing, I denied. No point in fornicating with someone you hardly felt any sparks with. By that, I meant an emotional spark, not the physical one.

I fished out Cedric's visiting card and offered it to Kylie. “You are welcome to take my place if you like. He's a bit boring, but he'll do.”

“Didn't you say you like to seek someone without emotional baggage? Now, you're saying you couldn't connect with Cedric emotionally. You're contradicting yourself, girl,” Chanel pointed out and even Kylie agreed.

“Oh, that does sound contradictory,” I slurped on the rest of the lime drink that was left and yawned. “By emotional baggage, I meant romantic feelings. I felt that with both Kunal and Rithik so I wish to be free from that shit. Honestly speaking, I'm not looking for men or sex. I had enough. Even if I don't hook up with anyone for the rest of my stay in Boston, it's perfectly fine by me. I'm enjoying my single stress-free life these days, except for work. So yeah, fuck men!”

“Fuck men, she says,” Chanel barfed, wheezing onto Kylie.

“Um, what was that? No nooky November? Let's see how long that lasts,” Kylie chimed along and they both started laughing.

My nostrils flared. “Fucking hell! You're making me sound like a hooker who needs a man to wet my vagina every night. I can self- pleasure too, you know. I'll show you two bitches!” I challenged, determined to prove these bitches. Thus, we made a bet.

Sometime later, Sandra showed up and we proceeded to shop for her upcoming wedding dress.

~ ~ ~

“Open wide, dickhead!”

“Ahh!” Vansh repeated, opening his mouth wide, revealing his teeth and tongue in all their glory. I internally cringed. It was lunchtime in the office. I picked a chickpea from a plate of chickpea salad and tossed it into his mouth like a ball in a basket. It bounced right off. I threw another chickpea and he arched his neck to the left to catch it but it hit the tip of his nose instead. His nose crinkled as he regarded me with a frown. This was his fifth miss now. “You and your terrible aim. Forget it, I'll play with myself.”

“It's because you suck with your mouth.” I replied with a smug grin.

“What would you know about my incredible mouth skills?”

Why does everything sound like an innuendo? Nonetheless, I picked another one. Right when I threw the piece, I heard the sound of a plate being set on the table. I whipped my head to see Irfan, exchanging looks between the two of us, dumbfounded. “What the...?”

“Caught it, yes!” Vansh interrupted, reclaiming his victory as the chickpea finally went in and he chewed a little with his closed mouth. I noticed how Vansh had shifted from his previous position by leaning closer just so he could catch it this time.

“Hey, that's cheating!” I accused, lightly pushing him away. I flicked my hair back confidently. “I bet my mouth skills are miles better than yours. I've got years of experience, baby. I'll prove ya.”

“Heh, we'll see.” He answered gruffly while I opened my mouth this time. He threw a chickpea half-heartedly so of course, I was unable to catch it with my mouth. My jaw clenched. Shithead!

I was all set to argue back when someone cleared their throat besides us. Loudly. Vansh and I turned to see Irfan chewing off the meat from the plate while looking at us blankly. “Oh, did I disturb you two from your um, moment? Sorry, carry on.”

“When did you get here?” Vansh questioned, astonished.

“You can join us too if you're feeling FOMO,” I said with a scoff before turning to Vansh. “Oye, throw another one. Properly,” After two throws, I managed to catch the forsaken little ball into my mouth. “Fuck yeah, I won! Now let's get eating.”

The three of us munched on our food in semi-silence until Irfan opened his fat mouth. “Aren't you two flirting and teasing a bit too much these days? It's weird.”

Vansh and I threw a look. You know the look— right before we spat into laughter. “This asshat thinks we are flirting.”

“If he claims this as flirting, then I really pity his loveless life. You had it hard, man. If you're missing some spice then say so,” Vansh said, draping an arm around Irfan, bewildering him. He caressed Irfan's cheek, his expression playful. “I've been wondering about your eyes, Irfan. Do they always look this enchanting? I could drown in them. Oo, and your sharp jawline, too.”

“Omg, omg, finally some boy-to-boy action! Please make it R rated. Not PG-13!” I squealed, clapping my hands in glee.

“Ew, get away from me, moron! What's gotten into you? You're behaving like Natasha,” Irfan snapped, trying to wriggle out of his theatrics.

“But I was just trying to make you feel better,” Vansh said forlorn, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

“Well, if you ought to make me feel better then do it from here...” Irfan replied pointing his finger to his crotch.

Silence fell. Jaws dropped.

Needless to say, Irfan rocked, Vansh shocked. Another beat passed. And, then.

“Please ignore that trash. I only got into the flow. I just wanted to outdo you. I didn't mean it. Vansh, my bro!” Irfan nearly shouted when Vansh recoiled in disgust. Even tapped his ears, muttering ‘shiv, shiv, shiv’ under his breath. “It's all because of this dayan (Natasha)! Her filthy virus is spreading into our veins.”

“Welcome to the club! I'll be glad to felicitate you two darlings. Ah, the wonders of friendship.” I said, shaking hands with Irfan as if it were a legal contract.

~ ~ ~

Vansh and I went home via subway after the office as usual. I was standing at a distance inside the train, alternating between checking my mobile and well... him. He was doing the same. Irfan wasn't totally wrong. We had been teasing & flirting every now and then. It kind of began with his cutthroat roasts. I wanted to outdo him. He wanted to outdo me. There was no agenda behind it. No goal. Just a way to pass time.

Which was why, I decided to play a little.

“Yo,” I called, drawing Vansh's attention to me. I raised four fingers to my lips and threw a flying kiss his way.

His face was a mixture of disbelief and amusement. He was no longer surprised by my antics now. He caught my flying kiss within his fist like catching a ball. I squinted my eyes when he lowered the same fist to the level of his mouth in mockery— Only to scoff and throw the flying kiss under his shoe, crushing it. Not bad, Baweja.

I rolled my eyes. “Don't be so cocky. I was throwing a flying kiss at the handsome guy behind you and not you, asshole.”

He shrugged, smiling with confidence. “Oh, don't kid! We both know who's the most handsome guy here.”

“It's everyone else except you.” I showed my tongue before we broke into a chuckle. ‘I win,’ I mouthed.

His bright smile didn't diminish as he bowed humbly, admitting defeat. Cute.

Soon we parted ways to our respective stations.

~ ~ ~

I began to notice a pattern as the days passed. At times, I'd challenge Vansh for something ridiculous. He would deny it while I would continue to provoke him. Stir his egoistic feathers. This would go on until he would be compelled to obey, in one way or another. It was totes fun. 

Like once I provoked him to touch me and called him a female haphephobic (fear of touch) when he didn't. Annoyed the fuck out of him. I could see smoke coming out of his ears. Eventually he folded by squish- touching my cheeks. Instead of rejoicing, I screamed, feeling his icy hands on my face and wriggled out of the way. He had the last laugh.

~ ~ ~

“What kind of grotesque shake is that?” Vansh asked me one day when I brought three plastic glasses of shakes on a tray from the cafeteria. My drink was purplish.

“Blueberry with seeds,” I answered. I took a long sip from the cup and savored the sweet flavours. I glanced at Vansh whose eyes were still at my glass. I pushed the shake to his side. “Here, taste my drink.”

“No, thanks.” He pushed it my way.

“Aree sharmaiye mat. Apna hi drink samjhiye. It's good.” I pushed it his way.

“I said no!”

“What's with the passing- the- cup game? Here, give it to me!” Irfan clocked out of nowhere, taking the blueberry shake to his hands and gulped down one long sip. I grimaced. That was NOT what I aimed for. I yelled at Irfan to give my blueberry shake back, wiped his trace off my glass and downed the shake myself. “Why such partiality, Natasha? You offered him and not me. The shake was good.”

“Cause you are gluttony!” I accused and continued sipping my drink.

Two days later, I repeated the same act. I drank then passed the shake to Vansh's side again. “I know you're thirsty to taste my drink.” I winked, my voice seductive.

“I already have my mixed fruit shake to quench my thirst, so thanks but no thanks,” He stated the obvious. The next moment, I stole his fruit shake to have a taste. “Oye!”

“Hmm, it's nice but mine's better,” I gave my verdict. Soon I gave up and continued drinking my shake. My lips twitched. “Coward.”

The word instantly ticked off Vansh's nerve like a firecracker. He was already drilling holes onto me through his stare. Gosh, it was so easy to rile him up. I barely had to do anything except drink my shake and glower down at him in disappointment. Regarded him as a fool, getting embarrassed with something as tiny as drinking from the same cup. I called him a coward again.

Just as I kept my blueberry shake aside after finishing two- thirds of my cup, I witnessed a movement— Vansh stealing my glass. His lips parted around the rim of the glass. His Adam's apple bobbled as he downed the blueberry shake. His brown eyes twinkled in surprise— he liked it. He continued drinking the shake while I crossed my arms, taking the sight of him. A small drop spilled out, trailing past his sleek neck. I blinked.

Time slowed down. At one point, his eyelids lifted to meet mine across the table. It stayed rooted this way until he finished the rest of the drink. I didn't protest. I didn't mind. Silence fell between us like a secret wrapped in mist. The noise was constant amongst the office goers in the canteen. Yet it was dead silent here.

“Mine is still better...” Vansh spoke, breaking the unsaid tension between us, his voice slightly shaky.

“Liar.”

Seconds later, Irfan approached the table with his truck of food items on a tray. And just like that, the previous moment got lost amidst the friendly chatter between us. At one point, Vansh glanced at me and I had the urge to kick his leg with mine under the table. I restrained. Instead, I satiated with the fact that I won and maybe he got an indirect taste of my lips, too. Hilarious!

Keep going at it, Vansh, and I might be tempted enough to cross the line someday.

~ ~ ~

The office hours were over by five in the evening. Irfan, Vansh and I  were about to exit the floor through the elevator. Alas, it was packed. We decided to take the stairs. While stepping down, Vansh decided to challenge himself by skipping the treads of a staircase. Always upto something goofy, that one. He jumped from the first tread, then the second and continued on till the fifth. Seeing this got Irfan titties in a jinx so he joined the charade. Me as well. It looked like fun.

Upon my turn, I tossed my heeled sandals aside and jumped from the first tread. Then second, and the third. The two men clapped while I bowed down in gratitude. It instantly reeled me back to my childhood days when Mitali, Sahil and I used to do the same. The nostalgia!

I was feeling brave so I decided to jump from the fourth tread as well. I let one foot out, only to pull back like a scared chicken. This went on until the boys ushered me to hurry up since they wanted to go home. Vansh assured he'd catch me if I fell. As for Irfan, he was already walking ahead of us.

Henceforth, I took a deep breath. I arched my back, bent my knee slightly and jumped.

Alas, the universe didn't want a perfect ending for me. Instead of landing on the floor, my foot fell between the second and the first tread. I lost my footing. My heart lurched and I squealed in fear. Before I fell down completely, a pair of arms caught mine in a vice-like grip. I opened my eyes to see Vansh below, steadying me with his one leg on the floor and one on the first tread.

“Caught you,” Vansh said and we both exhaled in relief. He raised his face to mine and we froze. Our gazes darted over each other's faces. He was that close. I was instantly hit by the scent of his cologne and the heat emanating from his body. Our gaze dropped to our lips for a second before he whipped his head away. Then in one swift motion, he picked me up by my waist and dropped me on the floor like I weighed nothing. I gasped in surprise.

“Wow, you sure have good grip strength,” I commented, adjusting the hem of my top but Vansh didn't respond. He followed after Irfan to the floor below us. As if he couldn't wait to escape a crime scene. What a dork!

“Don't skip steps again. Ever,” He warned me later on.

(A random Ai pic of Vansh and Natasha lol. What's he's trying to say to her? 😅)This chapter was originally a bigger one with 5500 words but then, I divided into two and shifted a few scenes around lol. What are your thoughts on the chapter? Is something happening? 👀 Vote and Comment.

Don't look forward to the next chapter. It has two surprises/ shocks, depending on how you see it. Shall I give you a hint? Fine! Chapter 57- The Lipstick Remover. (The chapter name says it all. 😈)