Rian stilled, but said nothing. He heard her release a sigh.
“I’ve moved on. It is up to you what you hold on to,” she said quietly before walking back into the living room.
He watched her retreat from him, a little stumped at how boldly she’d brought up an embarrassing moment from the past and stated her feelings on the matter.
Haven’t you ever made a mistake?
He didn’t know why he was reacting like this to Aditi, but the way she’d lost that little spark of life, her attitude dulling given his brusque behaviour, troubled him. She’d turned away as if she didn’t expect understanding or forgiveness, leaving him feeling like a complete asshole.
It is up to you what you hold on to.
Cut your losses.
Was she wrong? His conscience piped up this time, unwilling to remain quiet anymore.
She wasn’t so terrible, he finally admitted to himself, watching the milk come to a boil. It’s not as if she’d known he’d been emotionally volatile that evening. And she really had apologised, twice now.
He whisked some honey into the spiced milk and poured it through a sieve, his sights inevitably drawn once more to the woman on the couch who was staring outside the window instead of watching her TV show or reading the several books she had stacked on the centre table.
With a sigh, he picked up the mugs and strode into the living room, clearing his throat to grab her attention.
“I thought you might like some,” he gruffed, extending a mug out to her. He felt a twinge of guilt at the way she stared at him, wary of his sudden approach.
Her eyes flickered from the mug to his face and back. Her full lips parted, curving ever so slowly, as the stiffness in her receded. She reached for the cup, accepting it without a word. Eyes on the screen, she scooted towards one end of the sofa, making space for him. Itwas an unnecessary move given the massive size of the sectional, but as an invitation, it drove the point home.
He hesitated for a second before taking a seat, quietly leaning back against the cushions. For multiple minutes neither said anything, letting the dialogues filtering through the speakers fill the silence between them.
Aditi took a sip of the warm drink, her murmur of appreciation making him breathe easier.
“So, is this how you usually apologise for being mean? Gifts of food?”
“You just had to bring it up, didn’t you?” he grumbled. Unlike before, his tone was light, sheepish even.
She giggled, an inherently happy sound, and turned towards him. As he watched her talk, holding no ill will towards him despite him having given her no reason to be so friendly, Rian marvelled at her ability to let go of the uncomfortable moments. Just as she’d advised him.
As she asked him question after question, offering up her own answers without the reservations he’d come to expect in people he newly met, Rian realised that for all his planning on staying away from his temporary housemate, he had not accounted for one thing.
Her.
4
A Lonely Goddess
Aditi
Aditi carefully slid herjewellery onto her lobe and screwed on the backing, giving her head a slight shake, happy to see her earrings dangle about prettily. Picking up the packet ofbindi, she selected a simple round one in a dark maroon colour and applied it onto her forehead, bringing it to the centre of her brows.
“Is that so? And then what did Appa say?” she asked, listening to her sister’s voice trickling through the speaker on her phone. Her younger sister, Anika, was catching her up on all that she had missed with her family. This was their usual Sunday morning ritual, and despite being in different cities, they had refused to give up on the joys of sisterly gossip.
She laughed as Anika imitated their father’s irritated grunting when cornered byPaati, their maternal grandmother who also resided with them. The suburbs of Bangalore had been home to Aditi and her family since she was a young child. With nearly all theirextended relatives also living in the same city or nearby, she had never had a dearth of company while she’d been growing up.
This was the first time she’d been away from her family members for an extended period of time. As much as she missed them, sometimes she found herself breathing a little easier at the lack of constant focus on her and her life.
“I miss you,” came Anika’s small voice, cutting into her thoughts, and immediately, Aditi’s guilt ramped up.
“I miss you, too, Anu,” she said softly, smiling at her sister on video. “I’ll see you in a couple months forAmmaandAppa’sanniversary party.”
“Are you sure you won’t forget me by then? You weren’t even paying attention before,” Anu grumbled.