O.M.G THE COMMENTS! You guys have no freaking Idea what your comments mean to me! They are absolutely amazing! Ritesh7, hats off to you man! that big of a comment is made me recheck the review section to see if I am really reading my reviews or someone else's! Literally! This is amazing. The feed backs are so joyful only an author can understand! And yes to Ritesh's request! All the suggestion that are given by all my readers are just some ideas that I take to lead my story in more twisty twists! Oh twist se yaad aya! Please read, and I repeat read this chapter... again to Ritesh, picture abhi baki he mere dost! Romance to sabhi karte he! But this is something else! So Shreya isnt appearing in next few chapters, but yeah there is a huge connection to her for sure! Till then enjoy this little attack! and feed backs! no kanjusi! Keep bringing them to me! I'd love it like anything! time for me to shut up! Enjoy Enjoy *Evil grin*

Waking up was slow but enjoyable. First I stretched out and wiggled my toes, just to check that I wasn't still flying. I took a deep breath in through my nose as I stretched, only to find that my movements were constricted. My glasses, by some small miracle were still on my face. I cursed myself for being so stupid, because one wrong move and I could have broken them in my sleep. I don't even have a spare pair with me. The cause of my restricted movement was that Daya had his steel strong arms around me, like a sleeping child would cuddle a teddy. His hair, that had been so meticulously spiked at dinner the night before, was now tangled and stuck out at odd angles all around the pillow under his head. His face was relaxed and carefree as he dreamed. Smiling to myself, I blew out gently, blowing a breath across his face which was only inches from mine. He twitched a little in his sleep, then went back to before. I repeated this, almost having to bite my tongue to stop from laughing as he would frown in annoyance. Eventually his eyes opened and he blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

"Pagal!" he yawned, moving his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes. As he moved his arm I could feel our skin that had been stuck together for the last few hours, become unstuck with a slight sucker noise. It left the skin feeling cold.

Bringing his hands down from his face, my eyelighner and lipstick mark was smudged on to his face had now been smudged beyond recognition and he looked somewhat like a clown. I laughed out loud.

"What?" he asked. Looking at the black and red smudges on the back of his hands he rolled his eyes.
"Shut up," he grumbled. Yawning again, he closed his eyes and settled down to go back to sleep.

"Are you not getting up?" I asked.

"Depends," he mumbled without opening his eyes, "What time is it?"

I twisted myself into an awkward position so that I was still in the warmth of the bed, yet I could reach my bag that was on the floor. The clock on my phone said it was twenty past ten in the morning.

"I think it's about twenty past ten."

"Itne jaldi uthne walo me se tum nehi ho, kya baat hai?"

Rolling my eyes, I sat up and stretched. Pulling one of the sheets on the hotel bed with me, I stood up and wrapped it around me, more to shield myself from the morning cold than for dignity sake. It had gotten too hot in the room the night before and we'd opened a window, a decision we were now paying for. As I walked around the bed to get to the en-suite bathroom, I tugged slowly at the duvet Daya was holding onto.

"Don't," he moaned, "I have nothing underneath this, stupid."

With an evil grin, I gave an almighty yank and it slipped out of his sleepy grasp. He immediately curled his naked body into a ball to shield himself.
"Pagal Aurat," he whined, still with his eyes closed, as he searched for the missing duvet with one hand.

"Me nahane jarhi hu! Tumhe to nehi jana hai abhi?" I asked, hoping he would catch my real meaning.

"When you're finished," he yawned again, completely oblivious.

"Tum gussa to nehi karoge me pehle gayi to?" I tried again, hissing slightly. Cracking one eye open, he looked at me. Then he groaned as he caught on.

"Nehi, tum jao."

Frowning, I waddled into the bathroom, turned on the shower and cupped my hands under the spray. Waddling back, the huge sheet that covered my body restricting my movements, I stood over him and released the contents of my hands over him. He sat bold upright, his eyes wide with shock as his arms flailed about. Slowly, once the shock of being dry one moment, and wet the next had worn off, he turned his head to look at me.

"Jhanvi ki bacchi! Mujhpe pani fekti hai! I am so going to kill you!" he growled, narrowing his red eyes.

"Oh I really hope so," I purred in response. Daya threw off his recently reclaimed duvet and lunged at me. Giggling, partly from the thrill of being chased, but also because I'd gotten my way, I was going to get sex. I'd almost forgotten how great sex was. It had been four months before I met Daya that I'd last been with a guy, and I'd known Daya for seven months. That was nearly a full year without, unthinkable. So now that I had the opportunity, I was going to savour it as often as I could without causing physical injury. He followed me into the bathroom and into the shower, and well... you can guess the rest.

I didn't know the time, and frankly I didn't care as we lounged out on the sofa of the hotel room, flicking through local newschannel absentmindedly as we talked. We were both wearing the complimentary hotel bath robes, both of us too lazy to go looking for clothes.

"So what do you want to do now?" I asked, curling a strand of his slowly drying hair around my finger.

"Thori der baad hume kaam shuru karna hai, jiske liye hum yaha aye he," Daya murmured.

"Daya!" I protested, "Hum naye sheher aye hai, thora time mere liye bhi nikal lo! Kahi ghumne chalte he na please, bhot man kar rha hai."

"Jhanvi, tum ACP ko nehi janti, woh aj Delhi aya hua hai, agar woh nehi ata to shayad hum thori der off leke ja sakte," he groaned, "Venue spot pe jana hoga. There's the sound check, jaha bhot sare international bands ane wale he. So, day off is minimal in our case."

"I see your point, but I'm sure we can find something to do. Aj ke liye bas ek hi to venue he na. Uske baad to free ho na! Please!"
Daya turned his head and stared at me.
"What?" I blinked.

"Me ek CID officer hu Jhanvi, koi tourist nehi jo tumhare saath ghumne jau!"

I threw my head back and laughed.
"No, it's okay, me samajhti hu."

"Thank goodness," he sighed.

I poked him in the stomach.
"Wese tum bore nehi hote, yeh sab case solve kar kar ke. Entertainment ke naam pe tumhe sirf Freddy or Abhijeet se kaam chalana parta hai."

"Esi baat nehi hai, ab tum bhi add ho gayi ho," he teased back.

"Well fine then, agar esi baat hai to atleast mere saath kahi ghumne chalo, for 2 hours maybe. Pleasee..." I trailed off, putting on puppy dog eyes for him. He rolled his and sighed.

"Fine, give me a few minutes. We'll go for a coffee, we haven't done that in a while."

I grinned from ear to ear. This Sr. Inspector was my boyfriend, a pretty good lover, and now I was going to have coffee. Life couldn't get much better than the way it was at that moment. Of course, like a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn't get rid of, there was still the problem of Nakul, and how I was going to solve that. Regardless of how he'd been acting on the tour, he was still my best friend and I was going to have to find some way of getting him to quit the drugs. For some reason, which I assumed to be Sid, Nakul appeared to be blind to what he was doing to his body. Heroin was a very powerful drug, one of the most powerful and addictive if my education was correct. I had seen the pictures and heard all the stories of what happened when you couldn't find the will power to quit. With all my heart I didn't want to see Nakul fall down that slippery slope of addiction. I didn't want him to become this dishevelled pathetic form that lived and breathed for his next hit, scrounging around for the money, neglecting all other aspects of his life until finally one day he would take too much and he'd be gone.

I shook my head, trying to bring myself to my senses and out of my little jaunt down pessimistic street. Maybe Nakul would wise up soon and realise what he was doing. Maybe Sid would get a clear head and realise what his boyfriend was doing to himself and stop him. Perhaps that would be my way of getting Nakul to stop. If I could convince Sid to get him to stop, then he was sure to listen. It stung a little that I knew he wouldn't listen to me any longer, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and as long as Nakul got clean, then I didn't care how I had to do it. Nodding my head once, as if to confirm my thought process to myself, I stood up and went in search of my suitcase to get dressed, having made a mental note to talk to Sid the next time I saw him.

Then I remembered my suitcase wasn't here, it was in the room I was supposed to be sharing with Nakul.

"Daya, problem he ek," I announced. He looked around at me.

"What?"

"I've nothing to wear."

"Where's your suitcase?"

"Back in Nakul's room."
Daya groaned as he rolled his eyes to the heavens.
"Jao or le ao waha se?"

I gestured to the robe that I was wearing.
"I'm not going out in this!"

"Why not? The whole floor is taken up by us and he's just down the hall."

"Why won't you do it then?" I asked stubbornly.

"Dekho drama queen, tumhe Nakul se kabhi na kabhi to samna kar na hi hai, isliye tum jao or le ao apna suit case."

I grunted in annoyance, lifting the card key I'd been given and stormed out of the room. My bare feet felt cold on the carpet as I walked down to the other end of the hallway, cross because I knew Daya was right, but I really didn't want to see Nakul. I was afraid that he would yell at me again.

For politeness sake, I knocked on the door before using my key. I didn't want to just walk in, in case Sid was there and they didn't want to be disturbed. There was no immediate cry of protest, so I walked in. Nakul was still in bed, and looked to be asleep. I breathed out a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to talk to him, not yet. My suitcase was untouched, sitting on the second of the two beds in the room. I could also hear the shower running in the bathroom, which suggested that he wasn't alone. I lifted my suitcase, forgetting how heavy it was and dropped it. It made a loud thud as it fell back onto the floor. Wincing I glanced up at Nakul's sleeping figure, no longer sleeping as his brown eyes looked my direction.

"Jhanvi?" he asked, sitting up and running his hand across the bedside table until he found his glasses and put them on his face.

"Hey," I said, not really sure what else I could say. He continued to look at me strangely, I guessed that he was still half asleep and trying to work out if he was dreaming or not. I pointed to my suitcase.
"I came to get this," I mumbled, feeling a little uncomfortable in his presence. In the history of our friendship, we'd never 'fallen out' as such. So I didn't really know how to deal with the situation.

"Oh... sure," he replied, looking as though he was as uncomfortable as I felt. There was another few moments of unbearable atmosphere between us, when he spoke again.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you yesterday I was in... a weird mood."

He meant that he hadn't had a hit in a while, but I nodded in understanding, accepting his apology anyway. A small smirk passed over his lips as he gave me the once over.
"We all had fun last night then?"

More than anything in the world I wanted to rush over and sit on the bed beside him to gush, to tell him everything with no detail spared, whether he wanted to hear it or not. But there was something at the back of my mind that was telling me this wasn't Christian, if he wasn't being a grumpy bitch, then he'd had a hit, and if he'd had a hit, he wasn't the same person. Just then the bathroom door opened and I glanced over to Sid who padded out, a towel wrapped around his skinny waist, his messy wet black hair plastered over his face. He looked at me, then at Nakul then back to me. The uneasy feeling returned.

"Daya or me ghumne jar he hai, isliye I need the suitcase," I said, extending the handle of the case so that I could roll it back to Daya's room, "So I better go."

"Sure," Nakul said, "And that thing... that we were going to talk about?" he asked raising his eyebrows in a manner that made it impossible not to smile back at me, "Another time yeah?"

"Yeah," I replied, not wanting to shoot down his peacemaking offer, "Soon."

I took one last look back at Sid. He wasn't quite glaring at me, but he wasn't exactly running over to hug me either. I'd talk to him about Nakul and the drugs another time, to find out what he thought about it, and to beg him to get Nakul to stop. I took my case and left, leaving them in peace, as I closed the door behind me.

Daya looked like a black turtle. A black high necked jumper, black jeans, a black hat, and big dark sunglasses, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Bouncer ki naukri lag gayi kya kisi night club me?" I managed through my giggles.

"Grow up," he muttered, turning his nose up at me.

I got dressed, and we were just about to leave the hotel room when Daya's blackberry began to sing. He flicked it open and read the message.
"Abhijeet ne bulaya hai," he said with a frown as he put the phone back in his pocket.
"I hope koi case se related na ho bas." I pursed my lips. Can I ever get a right time with Daya? Never I guess.

I lifted a hair tie from the bedside table and put my hair up as we walked down the corridor to Abhijeet's room. I wasn't sure if it was mine or Daya's but I needed to get my hair out of the way. I'd let it dry naturally and it had gone frizzy and I'd left my strengtheners on the bus in one of my other cases. Daya knocked on the door and it opened no more than a few seconds later. I knew almost immediately that something was wrong, because Abhijeet had that look in his eye again. A look that I'd seen before but hoped I'd never see again. He looked first to Daya then to me.

"You," he growled angrily, "Mujhe tumse baat karni hai."

I knew then, that what whatever I was supposed to have done, it wasn't good.

I looked around at Daya, to check his face, to see if this was some kind of joke that they were playing on me. But it wasn't the case; Daya's face was furrowed into a frown as he shot a confused glare at his best friend. My heart began to beat a little faster than usual as my brain went into overdrive trying to think of a possible explanation to Abhijeet's apparent hatred. I thought that he'd finally gotten over that, so what could have possibly triggered it again?

As I gingerly stepped into Abhijeet's room Daya followed closely, almost protectively behind me. Pankaj and Kavin were, strangely enough, also in the room. Sachin was also present with a stone face. Freddy was sitting with his arms folded and his usually cuddly, teddy-like manner was gone and all I saw in his eyes was coldness. Purvi and Tarika who would smile sincerely at me, refused to look at me. And there was another person present in the room who I didn't recognise quite immediately. The person can easily be counted as a fifty year old man. He was glaring at as he paced around the room. I didn't need any further confirmation that this was no joke they were playing on me. They were all bitterly angry with me yet I could see no reason why. What could I have possibly done to offend them so much?

"Itna confuse mat ho," Tarika spat, "Here, let me refresh your memory." Abhijeet huffed slightly. As if he is ashamed to tell something to me.

Tarika walked upto me and thrust a bundle of strangely familiar paper roughly into my hands. I flicked through, still utterly confused. Until that is, I finally found the front cover. The bottom of my chest seemed to fall away from the rest, leaving me feeling numb and hollow as I read the name.

GlamGoss

Almost afraid of what I would find I glanced over the various subheading. That's when my heart stopped beating entirely. I only needed to see the one.

Exposed. Sr. Inspector Daya; The truth about CID's Saint.

Slowly, I raised my eyes to look at Tarika.

"Kya hua?" she hissed, "Chok gayi, aree tum to yehi kam karti thi na Jhanvi?"

"Tarika, ek minute meri baat suno," Daya shouted harshly, "Jhanvi ko saat mahine ho chuke he woh magazine chore hue, kya sabut hai ki…"

Abhijeet immediately rushed to me and snapped the magazine out of my hand and began to flick angrily through the pages. Finally, when he seemed to find what he was looking for, he cleared his voice and began to read aloud.

"We all know that ACP Pradyuman from the mighty high CID likes to portray himself and his as a pilgrim of saints, and there has been no shortage of medals and fans who like to think they've proof of their heroics if this. However, his most dearly officer, the infamously androgynous Senior Inspector Daya seemed to be the polar opposite, portraying an almost virgin-like attitude. GlamGoss decided to test this theory by sending one of our reporters undercover on a fun day out with the team… this is what happened:"

As he continued I gradually sank down onto the edge of one of the beds, my legs unable to support me. The article was about me, and about the day I'd spent with the team seven months ago, accompanied by Nakul. The article, had of course been sensationalised, portraying Daya as a serial flirt, desperately trying every move in the book and continuously making offers of spending the night with him in his hotel room.

Everyone in the room knew that this was lies. Any moves that had been made were by me and me alone, with only the occasional and undeniably subtle hint from Daya. Yet this didn't matter one little bit, because what was printed in ink, is what everyone would read and believe to be true. It was mortifying and there was a very significant part of me that wanted to crawl away under a rock and stay there for the rest of my days just so I wouldn't have to look anyone in the eye ever again.

"...the reporter in question will remain nameless." Abhijeet finished, then added angrily as he hurled the pathetic remnants of a battered magazine at Daya.
"Or Daya tu is larki ke liye mujhe or Tarika ko jhutla rha hai, is larki ke liye!"

Daya looked as though he was about to pass out. Any colour in his pale face had completely deserted him, for the first time making him look fragile, like a gust of wind would shatter him into a million porcelain pieces. Slowly, he opened up at the article, his hands trembling.

"Tumne...woh tasveere phar diya tha na," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he broke the silence I feared would have lasted forever.

"I did!" I cried defensively as my eyes stung with the beginnings of tears.

"Jhoot," Abhijeet snorted, folding his arms. The elderly man looked at Abhijeet and shook his head, as if to calm him down.

I turned to Daya. His eyes were distant almost vacant.
"Please," I begged, "Daya yeh mene nehi kiya! I didn't know about this!"

"Kya acting he Jhanvi, kal tak yeh baat sirf hum charo ko pata hi, or aj tumhari wajah se pure duniya ko pata chal gayi. ACP sir ko bhi!" Abhijeet growled gesturing to the elderly man was glaring at me, the harshness in his voice making me flinch. He had been cross at me before, but this was on a whole new level. I didn't even know I was crying until I felt the salty tears run down my cheeks, all the way to my neck before I mopped them up with my sleeve.

"Kyu kiya tumne esa, Jhanvi?" The older man asked.
"Sir, me sach kehti hu, mene kuch nehi kiya! Ap yakeen kijiye! Me kyu karungi! Kya milega mujhe Daya or ap sab ko badnaam kar ke?" I weeped.
"Or Nakul?"Daya asked.

"No! He couldn't... he wouldn't... he..." I began, my ears deaf to the hard truth of it.

"Daya, is Nakul ko pakarte he, us se to koi sach nikal hi ayega."

"Nehi, please Nakul ne kuch nehi kiya woh innocent hai..." I began, hiccupping from the tears that had now turned into sobs, "Daya us din Sanjay ko dekha tha na tumne, you saw what happened that day. You know that I'd never go back to him, and you know I'd never betray you."

"Us din usne tumhare saath battameezi ki thi, us Sanjay ne. To fir tumne uspe FIR charge kyu nehi kiya?" Abhijeet asked with venom, "Huh? If he was going to do something as awful as you said he was, why didn't you report him to the police?"
ACP sighed and walked out of the room. As if to give them the permission to torture me more.
"I didn't want any more trouble. I just wanted to forget about it."

"Kamal ka actress ho tum Jhanvi, us din bhi kya khub acting kiya tumne."

"I'm not acting!" I almost screamed in response. My head was throbbing and my eyes were sore, and probably raw red.

"Bas Abhijeet, Bas," Daya muttered, but his best friend was in full rampage mode and wouldn't be stopped easily.

"Tumne kaha tumhe paise chahiye na. Isse acha mouka kya ho sakta hai, humare hi saath rehke is mission me, humpe nazar rakhke yeh sab jhoot bolne ki. Or kya chahiye? You and him, and probably Nakul too you've been planning this since the start! Sach keh raha hu na me! Badzaat aurat!"

"Abhijeet!" Daya yelled. The room went deathly quiet, except for the breathing of two angry senior Officers.
Daya spoke first.

"Jhanvi, go back to the room."

"Daya, Tum ab bhi isko bacha rhe ho, tumhe yakeen nehi hota ki kis tarah se yeh tumhe gumrah kar rhi hai?"

"Main kyu gumrah karungi Daya ko, me Daya se pyaar karti hu," I blubbered pathetically, my voice hoarse and my body trembling so much that I thought I was going to be shaken apart at any moment. My glasses had steamed up so that I couldn't see out of them. I was partly glad, so that I wouldn't have to face any of the angry or disappointed stares.

"Jhanvi. Apne room me jao." Daya said sternly. I didn't need to be told a third time. Stumbling, I made my way to the door, out into the hall. I only got half way up to Daya's room before I collapsed against the wall and sobbed into my hands.

I don't know how long I was there for before Daya found me.

"Come on," he sighed sadly, picking me up off the floor, "Tumhe ghar bhej raha hu me, bhot ho gaya ab."

"What?" I spluttered, staggering slightly.

"I just... I don't want you and Abhijeet around each other right now. He's really angry and I just think it would be easier for us to get on with the tour if you're not here. I'm sorry."

"But I didn't do anything Daya, mene kuch nehi kiya!"

"It's okay," he said, offering a weak but reassuring smile, "You start packing and I'll phone Vivek to arrange a flight back to Mumbai as soon as possible. Sab thik ho jaiga."

"Abhijeet or mere beech sab thik hote hote 6 mahine lag gaye," I muttered bitterly.

Daya said nothing, and I let out a trembling sigh, trying to compose myself. The next few hours were just a blur to me. Packing clothes while Daya came back and forth from the room, fussing and organising.

"What about Nakul?" I asked eventually, having only remembered him now. The part of my brain that he was in had shut down. I didn't want to think about him, because thinking about him would mean that I had to face up to the cold harsh truth of it. I knew myself that I hadn't been involved in the article. I doubted highly that Abhijeet and Daya would have written the interview, which would have just been stupid. It left now only Nakul. The thought of him selling me out like that was unbearable, so I simply pushed it to the back of my mind and pretended the problem wasn't there.

"Me usse baadme baat karunga, pehle tumhe ghar pocha du safely," he replied.

Daya escorted me to the airport. The taxi ride was quiet and I didn't want to disturb him, I'm sure he was horrified by the fact that it was now public. I'm sure there had been more than a few lies in the tabloids regarding them, but I don't think any of them had ever hurt him so deeply before. I felt partly responsible because, if I had never agreed to do the interview in the first place, none of it would have happened, leaving nothing to come back to haunt him.

But when I looked back at the months of friendship, and the most recent week or two that we'd become much closer, I realised that I wouldn't change a thing. In its own sordid way, the interview, and near seduction had brought me close to Daya, and no amount of embarrassing articles would make me want to change that.

As we rode in silence, I stole a glance at him, his eyes hidden behind his massive sunglasses. No matter what had happened, I was glad that he was there with me, and that he believed me, even if his best friends and the team didn't. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. It took him a moment to register but he squeezed back and let it go again, offering a little smile.

We got to the airport in record quick time. Everything happened so fast. I realised that I should have gone to Nakul myself, but I couldn't turn back now. My flight was in an hour and I was already late to check in my baggage. Daya had reassured me that my other stuff that I'd left on the bus would be sent to my parent's house, where he knew I was staying.

"Your flight's in an hour, and the check in desk closes in a few minutes, jaldi karo ab," he instructed, lifting my case from the back of the taxi as I paid the driver with the money Daya had handed me.

He even carried the case for me as we made our way through the beautiful IGI airport. I put my arm through his as we walked, enjoying the comforting effect of his presence.
"Thank you for believing me," I murmured softly.

"Tumhara Check in counter kaha he?" he asked, sounding as though he was frowning behind his glasses as he scanned the row of counters, divided up by different airline names.
He spotted it before me and trotted off after it, I followed him, almost having to jog to keep up with his lengty legs.
"ID proof?"

"Here," I said, flashing it to him to prove that I had it. I may have been forgetful and a little hopeless at times, but I was usually quite good at remembering the most important things.

I checked in with little trouble, but the attendant seemed to be quite annoyed that I was doing so, so near to the closing of the gate.

"I just wanted to thank you for believing me," I said again, slightly louder than the last time because he didn't hear me.

"Boarding card he na tumhare pas, check kar lo gate number to likha he na?" he asked, his frown back as he looked from my ticket, up to the electronic departures board, then back down at my card.
"Ah, gate ten. If I remember it's quite a walk to the departures lounge, and it already says that you have to go through to it. Jaldi jaldi jao."

"Daya relax," I assured him, "The flight doesn't leave for another forty minutes, we've plenty of time."

He insisted. So we walked quickly. He knew the airport because he'd been there a few times before.
His fussiness was beginning to annoy me. I'd never seen him so organised before, but I brushed it aside, I knew that the article was bound to be the thing on his mind, and I'd just have to make allowances for a while. I still hadn't thanked him properly for earlier, for standing up for me and for accepting my side of the story without consequence. I stopped him, and made him face me so there was no chance that he couldn't hear me.

"Thank you for earlier," I said, looking into his eyes through the sunglasses, "It meant a lot to me that you're on my side in this."

"We've got to keep moving, Jhanvi bhot bara airport hai plane miss ho jai..."

Acting completely out of character, I stood on my tip toes and leant in to kiss him. Confusing was reigning as I wondered why he seemed not to want to listen to me thank him. I wanted to feel him, I needed to feel him. His arms around me and his lips on mine, that was all that I needed to salvage some scrap of comfort and love from that day of hell.

It was when he backed away that it hit home, hard.

"Jhanvi... kya kar kya rahi ho tum..."

"Tumhe mujhpe trust nehi hai na?" I asked him bluntly as my already sore and puffy eyes began to well up once more.

"Hum late ho rah hai Jhanvi... flight miss ho jaigi..." he muttered, turning to go again.

"Don't give me that crap! I can see the fucking departure lounge from here it'll only take thirty seconds!"

"Keep your voice down," he whispered urgently.

"Tell me you believe me," I demanded as, once again, I began to cry.

"I...Jhanvi, I..." he took in a deep breath then let it out again.
"I don't know what to believe."

"Believe me!" I urged, "I'm telling the truth!"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Abhijeet or tum... don't make me choose between you and him again. I can't take it. Please, shayad yeh hi thik rahe."

"Easier?" I breathed, shaking slightly, "You're... you don't want to see me again do you?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his glasses able to hide his eyes, but not the two small rivers that ran down from under them.

The world seemed to stop in that instant, and I felt nothing. Nothing but cold and emptiness as if my soul had been ripped from my very body and all that was left was a shell.

I opened my mouth, trying to form the words from my dry mouth.
"You... weren't going to tell me either."

"Me kya batau...me dar gaya hu Jhanvi, life me pehli baar mere wajah se ACP sir ko sharmindgi hone lagi hai.. Life me pehli baar I am so scared.. I am scared."

It took a moment for everything to sink in, and I had to stare at my shoes to compose myself, to try and see his reasoning, to try and come up with a better solution. A solution that didn't mean he had to leave. As I looked up, the last little part of my heart that remained un-shattered, conformed and broke too as I realised he was gone.

Looking over my shoulder, back the way we'd come, I couldn't see him. All around I whirled but it was as if he'd melted into the air itself.

"Daya?" I tried to call out, but it just caught in my throat and came out like a pitiful squeak. I just stood there, like a hollow statue. I probably would have stayed there for hours, had someone not stopped to ask me if I was okay.

"Me thik hu," I replied, uttering possibly one of the most obvious lies in my life. Unsurely, the woman moved on. She had snapped me out of my daze, and I remembered about my flight. Somehow I managed to get onto my flight, and through airport, until I arrived on my front doorstep, to fall sobbing into my confused mother's arms.