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Avantika stepped back before she did something insane. Like kiss him quickly on the mouth in another throwback to those pre-match rituals.

“I came here to set your helmet…” she smiled. His smirking face dropped. He opened his mouth but she cut him off — “As a friend. Like you dropped by at my house and took care of me. I thought I should bring you a birthday gift.”

Avantika reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a brooch.

A jockey atop his horse, rendered in brilliant gold, with tiny sapphires for the eyes of the horse.

It wasn’t Van Cleef & Arpels but a partner atelier.

She had gotten in touch with them for a campaign mood boarding and this was the first thing she had asked — Do you have any male jewellery in horses?

Samarth took the brooch in his hand, his long fingers looking giant around the tiny brooch.

“Ava…” his eyes were on the tiny piece. “You didn’t have to bring me a gift.”

“It’s like that charm Maan bhai gave you. Remember? The wooden horse charm you used to carry in your pencil pouch?”

“That one didn’t have a jockey,” the horse fanatic pointed.

“Ok, so you weren’t a polo player then. Now you are,” she pointed back. “Put it on.”

“No,” he closed his fist around it just as she reached for it.

“Why?” She asked, suddenly hurt.

“I’ll be racing up and down on horses for 90 minutes, maybe even tumbling off and falling down. I don’t want to lose it.”

“Oh.”

His eyes smiled. “Are you staying for the match?”

“I paid for the ticket.”

He laughed.

“And are you staying for after?”

“I don’t know… you will be busy. And I don’t know anyone here.”

“I am never busy after the prize distribution. You know it. Let’s… let me take you out for my birthday treat. We couldn’t go that day. Is your stomach better?”

She guffawed — “You don’t know how to talk to princesses, Kunwarji. You can’t ask such questions in the open!”

“How would I know? I only ever talked to you as Ava.”

“Don't tell me you haven’t spoken to any other princess in all these years.”

“Spoken to many, talked to only one,” he shrugged with a grin. Even if it was meant as a joke, Avantika felt it deep down.

“Sam!” A shrill female voice broke their bubble. Avantika stepped away from him just as a young woman in a short navy blue polka dress came billowing towards him. Her phone was out, as if ready to start filming him. Avantika saw how Samarth’s face paled. He stepped up to cover her.

“Ritu, one minute…” Samarth didn’t get to complete his sentence as she grabbed his wrist and began to pull him — “We have ten minutes before the first chukker and I need you four for a story!”

He turned over his shoulder and mimed ‘I’ll see you after the game.’ But Avantika’s eyes pinged back to how Ritu, possibly his social media manager, had now left his wrist to hold onto his arm. And how he had done nothing to disentangle it.

It went one step ahead.

Her arm slowly snaked across his back and his automatically went around her neck.

That was the end of it. Avantika turned on her heels and marched out of there.

————————————————————

It was way past 9 and her dinner was cooked, served and eaten. Alone. She didn’t mind. She liked the peace of her apartment, especially after the blasting enraged self-talk she had given herself on her way back home.

Her best trait was that she could easily let go.

Anger, resentment, even joy. She could come back to ground zero pretty easily.

This time as well, she had flipped her hair back and entered her apartment, looking forward to the ramen she had prepped to cook this morning.

And as she had busied herself in slicing vegetables for her broth, Avantika had set away all thoughts of Samarth, his girlfriend and the awkwardness that inevitably kept creeping between them.

He had taken an oath to never marry and have a family. He hadn’t sworn off women. She couldn’t hold it against him that he had women now… or could she? Why had he never thought of her? But then, would she have been ready for just these flings?

Maybe yes. Considering she wasn’t big on marrying or settling down either, she would have said yes to a fling with him, accepted his time, whatever little it was, with both arms. The fact that he hadn’t even deemed to ask was an insult to not only their relationship but their years of friendship.

Could that even be called a friendship? Considering they had only exchanged birthday calls/ voice notes.

“Fuck it.”

Avantika tapped her favourite Punjabi music on her phone and made a mental note to get some good speakers for the house. She was making new friends at work and sooner or later she would want to invite them home, entertain them, host movie parties and dinners. She would need speakers.

Her intercom buzzed and she flung the dishwater from her hands, wiping them on a towel and reaching for the button.

“Hello?”

“ Bonsoir, madame. Monsieur Solanki est de retour. [41] ”

She saw red.

“ Je ne recois pas de visiteurs ce soir. [42] ”

A pause. Then — “Ava, hi, it’s Samarth. Can I come up for a second, please?”

“How are you getting my concierge to hand over his phone to you?”

“Please?”

“As I said to him — I am not accepting visitors tonight.”

“Is somebody there with you?”

“Yes.”

Another short pause.

“I am sorry for today. Just… I may have an idea what you think but let me talk to you and clarify.”

“All good, Samarth. No worries.”

“All is not good. Let me take you out to lunch tomorrow.”

“I am working through lunch.”

“In Paris?” His solemn voice was suddenly amused.

“Yes, in Paris .”

“Alright… then, come to my match tomorrow. I am leaving your VIP Pass here.”

“I am working.”

“It’s later than today. 7.30 pm. Polo Club du Domaine de Chantilly. I can send a car to your office. Van Cleef, at Place Vend?me, right?”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it…”

“I’ll wait for you. Please come, Ava. Please.”

She began to press away from the button when his voice crackled — “I lost today. My helmet buckle snapped off mid-chukker.”

Avantika jabbed the button back. “I don’t have a bleeding heart anymore, Samarth.”

“I hope not. The world doesn’t deserve it.”

She wanted to strangle him with the concierge’s phone chord as well as hug him tight.

“Bye-bye, Samarth.”