Chapter 17

Third person POV:

Sheetal didn’t know what made her say yes. Maybe it was Leela insisting. Maybe it was because of the silence in the background that said Sharini was listening. Or maybe it was just because she didn’t want to spend another Friday evening curled up in bed with guilt.

She stepped out of the auto handing the exact change to the driver, her hand clutching on to the gift in one hand, a regular last-minute purchase, the good old photo frame, and her phone in the other. Her eyes shifted to Leela’s address on her phone, the blue dot on the map indicating that she was indeed at the right place.

She slowly began walking towards the building, her nerves wracking her with every step. Sharini had been visibily distant lately, except for the messages or calls she makes to inform her of whereabouts.

The teacher cared enough to make food for Sheetal, keep her kurtis ironed, but the walls had grown around words and eyes. They hadn’t laughed, hadn’t touched, hadn’t spoken beyond what was necessary. 

There were no more shared teas in the morning. No more brushing of fingers while cutting vegetables together. It wasn’t cold, but it was quiet – and in the worst way. 

Sheetal pondered over her thoughts which seemed loud against the seemingly silent elevator ride that came to a halt with a little bounce at the third floor. She looked at her reflection on the mirrored panel of the elevator door. Nervous eyes covered by the khol, her lips tinted pink, fingers mindlessly crumpling the ends of her kurta. She cleaned herself up to her best, she thought. It felt surreal to walk into a cheerful party after the agony and emotional wreckage of the past few days.

Faint music spilled through an open window, along with the enticing smell of sweets and deep-fried snacks that hung in the air. A cluster of footwear marked the entrance of the door number 33 – she made sure it was the right door. Her stomach fluttered with a mix of hunger and anxiety. She took a deep breath, straightened her kurti and stepped in.

The modest living room welcomed her with a gust of cool breeze from the AC that gently glided on her, a meek attempt to calm her skin and nerves, while the glow of the fairy lights strung across the walls gently cradled her otherwise sore eyes. 

The wall was decorated with a collage of Ashok’s photos – similing with friends, mid-laugh with Leela, and even one where he clumsily attempts a headstand. Mostly beautiful candids that only someone who loved him would bother framing.

As she scanned the rest of the room, she was greeted by a number of faces — some familiar, others not — scattered across the room. But her eyes insticntively searched for one. 

A couple reed mats stretched across the center of the room, accompanied by a bunch of colorful cushions and few bean bags thrown in, already half-occupied by guests. Two men hung out on one side of the mat, probably Ashok’s friends, laughing while pointing at what seemed like a photo book. She remembered the goofy guy from Ashok’s wedding, he was his college friend. 

Then there was Mullai, Ashok’s cousin, carrying a tray of samosas and chips and plopping down on one of the cushions on the opposite. There were a couple of other ladies, probably Leela’s friends, she doesn’t remember seeing them at school nor at Leela’s wedding.

Yeah, Sheetal has been a part of Leela’s wedding along with Sharini, initially she went there just to accompany Sharini but Leela slowly became closer to her and the trio soon clicked. They had met after the wedding a couple of times, just the 3 of them hanging out as friends, going out on movies and stuff.

Her eyes finally landed on the girl she had hoped to see all along. There stood her Sharini, leaning against the serving hatch that connected the living room to the kitchen, laughing at something that an older lady beside her said. It was the closest to her signature genuine smiles, her eyes crinkled at the sides.  

She was in different clothes from what she wore this morning while leaving to school. A sea green salwar with silver threadwork. Her hair was let down, loosely pinned to one side. Tiny silver jhumkas hung on her ears, bouncing slightly as she tucked a lone strand of hair. She looked- God, she looked—

“Sheetal akkaaa!”, Leela’s squeal caught everyone’s attention as she dropped everything and made a beeline to Sheetal, embracing her in a bone-crushing hug. “You made it!” She then spun around to the eager eyes in the room and shouted, “Everyone, this is Sheetal. Sharini akka’s best friend and soulmate!”, and turned to Sharini, who’s eyes had now locked with Sheetal, her genuine smile from earlier faltering. 

“Heyy Sheetal~”, the small crowd welcomed her with a cheer, with gentle smiles from where they sat. 

“Is that too small of an intro, Sharini ka?”, Leela teased, and turned her attention back to Sheetal. “When she first spoke to me about you, that’s exactly how she worded the introduction. And then she wouldn’t stop talking about you. It’s like someone possessed her soul. More like you possessed her soul.” Leela yapped on oblivious to the effect of her words on two people, pulling her to sit beside Mullai who was busy shoving chips into her mouth.

Sharini smiled, tight lipped and sent a small wave towards Sheetal’s side, before slipping into the kitchen, mumbling something about getting some water.

No one noticed the tightness in her shoulders, the breath she held until she reached the sanctuary of the tiled counter, the cutting board, the noise of plates and oil sputter that she could hide behind.

This was harder than she’d imagined.

Sharini had spent years learning to swallow her needs, growing up in a house where love wasn’t absent, just unnoticed. Her parents didn’t hurt her. But they didn’t see her either — not really. So, she learned to pour her affection outward, to be the one who gives. She became the friend who remembers birthdays, the teacher who stayed after class, the roommate who left a post-it note with a reminder to drink water.

With Sheetal, that instinct bloomed. The love was natural, constant. It made her feel alive. But it also made her vulnerable in ways she never knew she could be.

The girl who taught her how to speak up was also the one Sharini was now forcing herself to step away from — because she couldn’t be the only one pulling anymore.

Sharini hadn’t been cold these past few days. She had been… careful. Deliberate. It took everything in her to not reach for Sheetal’s hand when she heard the other silently sob into the night, to not peek into her room with some excuse, to not text her in the middle of the night just to ask if she was okay.

But Sharini had reached her limit the night Sheetal screamed at her over the phone. The words — “I hate that I feel this way because of you!” — they didn’t just bruise. They lodged in her chest, sharp and refusing to dull.

So Sharini had stopped chasing. Not because she stopped loving, but because she had to draw a line. For herself.

That was what Sheetal had taught her, ironically — that she didn’t have to keep pouring from an empty cup.

Now, standing in Leela’s party, with Sheetal just feet away, laughing awkwardly with Mullai, the ache in Sharini’s chest returned again in multitude.

She hadn’t prepared for this — to see Sheetal in a room full of warmth and music and joy, looking beautiful and hesitant and entirely unreachable.

It was unbearable.

But she smiled anyway. Because people were watching, because everyone here thought they were just best friends.

And maybe they were.

Maybe that’s all they’d ever be.

Sharini swallowed down the familiar lump and reached for a bowl of mixture to hand to Leela. And grabbed a tumbler of water, her fingers curling around it a little tight.

She could get through this night.

She just had to make sure the walls she’d built around her heart didn’t collapse with a single glance.