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“This is not sick people food, this is comfort food,” he brought her another bite. She grabbed his wrist and forced it back to his mouth — “Yeah fine. I am done. Eat now.”

“Av…” his words cut off when she forced the morsel into his mouth. He chewed. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little.”

“I’ll make another batch of nimbu paani and pop it in your fridge.”

“Thanks.”

He finished the small portion left on his plate and got up to grab both their plates.

“Don’t you want more?”

“I had a snack at practise. I’m good,” he began cleaning the plates.

“Samarth, leave it. I’ll do it…” she yawned, feeling her body become lethargic again. And just when she thought she would get to sleep without pain, her belly revolted. She up and ran to the bathroom.

————————————————————

When she returned, he was leaning on the edge of her kitchen island, the place clean and new.

“How bad is it? Do we need to go find a doctor? I can call mine…”

“No, no, I took another dose. It’s better than this morning.”

He straightened to his full height and crossed the distance between them.

“You are again swaying,” he caught her shoulder, checking her forehead again. A shiver wracked down her spine. Not from the goodness of his touch but from the feverish weakness that was settling in.

“Sleep it off now,” he again reached down and swept her in his arms, striding to her bedroom. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours to drink more nimbu paani.”

“You will have to go but,” she protested half-heartedly. “You will have things to do… practise, friends…”

“It’ll wait,” he set her down on her bed, pulled the blanket over her and dimmed the lights.

Avantika turned to her side and pushed her hands under her head just as he reached over her, grabbed the extra pillow and pushed it under the blanket and between her legs.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him — tall, broad shoulders, well-built but not steroid-muscular.

His hair was again swept back from his forehead and she wondered how it remained there.

Earlier, it used to always fall down his forehead, sometimes into his eyes if it was too long.

She noticed now that he wasn’t in his uber-prince formals but in a white T-shirt hugging the contours of his biceps and a lightwash jeans.

His old favourite uniform — white on blue.

“What?” He smiled.

“Nothing. You look grown up but still the same.”

“You act still the same,” he quipped, reaching down to give her head a pat — “And clearly the inside has not grown.”

Avantika giggled, burying her face into her pillow. Please, Bhagwan, don’t let this be a dream.

“Need this?”

Her face pushed out of the pillow and it wasn’t a dream.

Samarth Sinh Solanki, grown and hot in his white on blue was standing in her dimmed room, holding up her pink bunny eye mask with a smirk as pretty and illegal as his face.

Avantika didn’t have it in her leg to kick him so she only pushed her tongue out and buried her face back into her pillow.

He would wake her up again for nimbu paani. He wouldn’t go immediately. She went to sleep to the soft, amused echoes of his chuckle.

————————————————————

“ Naa, naa have… [38] ” Avantika woke up to strange Gujarati words in her house. She squinted. The sun was up again in her window. Would she ever see the night sky here in Parisian summers?

“Happy Birthday, Samarth,” a female voice echoed outside in the hall. Avantika sat up.

“Thank you, Maarani.”

“ Poojan maate tayaar rejo, Kunwar [39] ,” a deep-set baritone very like Samarth’s followed it.

“ Haa, Rawal. [40] ”

“Did you order your birthday cake for me?!” A child’s peppy voice broke all the solemn voices. Samarth’s hearty laugh reverberated.

“Yes, Sharan. At least say Happy Birthday first,” the female voice rebuked.

“I told him last night only, Mummy!”

“He did, he did,” Samarth said. “Kunwar saheb called me at dot 12 to wish.”

“And how did he have a mobile in his room at that late hour?” The deep-set male voice cut in.

She assumed it was Samarth’s father. Avantika felt like a fly on the wall, listening to the intimate conversation of a family.

A family that she was partly glad was Samarth’s.

She still hated his stepmother after the way she had manipulated him and his father, tricked him into giving up so much.

She was saddened to see Samarth wrapped in that web.

But he had made his decision. Nothing to do there, especially when he was so headstrong.

Avantika waited for a few minutes after his call had ended.

Then got out of bed. Her body ached at the joints but otherwise felt better.

She hadn’t had to visit the loo again, which meant her gut was healing.

She righted her clothes, now three days old.

She wanted to shower first but didn’t want Samarth to leave thinking she was better.

So she trudged outside her bedroom, the hall lit up in bars of natural light from the row of arched French windows.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He tossed the napkin he was using as a kitchen rag and rounded the island to meet her in the middle of the hall.

“A little better,” she tried to slur. But one look at his face, and her play-act died. “It was your birthday eve last night!”

“It was,” he smiled.

“Shit! Samarth! You spent it making me drink nimbu paani and eating my leftover dahi-chawal…”

“It was fun.”

She huffed, forgetting to sway. Last night was real, but now she wanted him to go and enjoy his day. Practise, run his horses, do whatever he liked. Avantika pushed her shoulders back and held out her hand — “Happy Birthday.”

He eyed her face, then her hand, then again her face. A smirk graced his lips as he extended his hand to shake hers. “Thank you.”

“Now go and enjoy your day. I don’t have any chocolate or anything to feed you. I haven’t even unpacked! Oh shit…”

“Relax, relax,” he pulled her, hand and all, to the sofa. “Sit down. I unpacked the bag of essentials for the kitchen and homeware. I also got the basics last night. Milk, bread, cheese, some bananas and apples. Peanut butter…” he grinned.

“I am not Cherry,” she grumbled. Then got an idea. She pushed to her feet and ran into the kitchen.

“Ava, sit down!”

“Wait there. You sit down!” She shot back, making him lower himself back to the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Close them, Samarth!”

His lips pursed, but his eyes squeezed shut. Only halfway.

“I can see you are peeping. Shut them properly!”

He squeezed them tighter. Avantika slowed her movements, just looking at him basking under the 8 am sun, sitting in her hall, still in last night’s clothes but looking so fresh. His hair had begun to come down to his forehead. The boy.

She quickly chopped an apple into thick round slices, cut out the seedy part, then slathered peanut butter over them, stacking them to look like a cake. She didn’t have a candle so she took a matchbox along.

“I can smell the peanut butter.”

“Unsmell it then!” She padded closer to him. “Don’t spoil it.”

“Ok,” he smiled, eyes now relaxed in their closing. Avantika sat down in front of him on the coffee table and set the plate of apple cake in her lap. She then carefully struck a match and held it in her hand.

“Open!” She grabbed the plate in her other hand and held the two together — “Blow fast!”

He blew it instinctively, pulling the matchstick out of her fingers, laughing. “What is all this?”

“Happy birthday to you!” She sang, grabbing the sloppy apple slice and peanut butter cake and holding it up to his mouth.

His eyes popped wide, and he reared back before stretching his mouth even wider to accommodate the massive thing.

He still couldn’t, and ended up spilling the slices as he bit into it, the peanut butter smearing over his nose.

He held the now dismantled slices out to her but she shook her head — “I’ll stick to dahi-chawal today.”

“Good idea,” he popped the pieces into his mouth, licking his thumb clean. She reached out and wiped the smear from his nose, laughing. His body was vibrating too as he licked his fingers clean, his head down, eyes on the floor between them.

“I heard it, you know?”

“What?” His laughing face popped up.

“You, talking to your family…”

“Oh,” his laughter died but the smile remained. “I have to get ready for the poojan.”

“Birthday poojan. I know. You will do it remotely?”

“Hmm… this is the first time in years I am not in Nawanagar for my birthday.”

“This is the first time you are with me for your birthday. In school it always fell in our end of summer vacation.”

“It did.”

“I am sorry you had to spend it like this.”

“You know I don’t give much importance to my birthday anyway, Ava,” he consoled.

“Yeah but I have been working on this one agenda for years to make you excited about it…” she pouted. “I wish you would be a little more excited! Every year same answer, and this year I rained on your parade…”

“Actually, you didn’t,” he cut her off.

She gaped at him.

“I came here last night to return your mask and hoping to take you out to dinner. To have you show me some excitement,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh gawwwd!” She groaned. “And I spoiled that too!”

“No you didn’t!” Samarth sat forward. “I did have dinner with you.”

“Dahi chawal.”

“So?”

“You make me feel so bad now. I am not even bathed. I stink in these clothes… and I made you this…” she held the plate of apple slices up. He reached for one and stuffed it into his mouth. Then reached for the other, swiped it through the peanut butter greased on the plate and chomped on it too.

“I will not dance like Cherry but here’s my verbal confirmation that this is the best birthday cake I have ever had. And I was very excited last night.”

“To what? Make nimbu paani for me?”

“Among other things, yes.”

Avantika grinned, feeling all shades of shy. He gazed into her eyes, smiling just as wide as her.

“Thank you for staying last night, Samarth.” Stay forever.

He blinked back, as if he had heard her unsaid words too.

“Of course,” he smiled. This one did not reach his eyes. “Anything for a friend.”

Avantika took a deep breath. Reality was always here, hovering over their actions and food and conversations. She had sensed it at every turn. Just ignored it. Now it was here and between them again.

She nodded, getting to her feet — “I am feeling much better. You go now, your family must be waiting for the poojan. You’ll have to get ready.”

“Yeah…” he got to his feet. “I’ll head out. You are staying home all day?”

“Depends on how I feel.”

“Try and stay home, please. I have made a batch of nimbu paani. It’s in the fridge. There’s bread in the toaster, just press it. Take it easy today.”

“Hmm, thanks.”

“Alright then, I’ll… see… bye.”

“Bye.”

Samarth pulled out her key from his pocket, deposited it on the counter and grabbed his mobile phone. With one last look back at her, a smile and a nod, he was gone. Her apartment went silent again. As if last night had been a dream.

Except, his half-finished apple and peanut butter cake lay on the plate on the coffee table. He had really been here.