Chapter 14

2 years ago

varshaoforange

@varshaoforange

You can always trust me.The next morning Aryan kept looking at Imlie. She seemed perfectly happy and unbothered, she clearly hadn’t figured out someone had looked at her phone, nor did it look like she’d responded to Aditya’s desperate message.

Aryan racked his brain for a way to prevent Aditya from talking to Imlie today. Besides sending her out on a different assignment, which wasn’t a good idea because she still needed to finish up the write-ups on the interviews she’d already done yesterday, Aryan had no ideas. While he was worried that Imlie’s resolve might falter, like a dam that’s on the verge of breaking, he was also worried that Imlie would be smart enough to figure out something wrong with Aditya’s current assignment. Aryan was sure the man was stupid enough to brag about his work to “bring down a corrupt and rich embezzler” to anyone who would listen, including Imlie. Hell, he probably thought giving Imlie a lecture on research and journalism was a way to win her back. All Aryan could do was wait. He had to wait for the possible dam to break, he couldn’t prevent it or fix it. He had to wait to see if Aditya’s research into the Sunil Khanna story would go in the direction that Aryan wanted. Aditya had responded to the anonymous “source” that Aryan had created. Aryan promptly sent Aditya the accounting files he’d already found, and then deactivated the email. If Aditya tried to find the employee at Mahendra Enterprises (the name of Khanna’s company), he wouldn’t be able to find anyone with that name on the staff list. Any of the current employees that would talk to a reporter about Khanna would would wither not be senior enough to help Aditya or would be someone actively trying to oust Khanna. All the traps were set in place. He’d just have to wait and hope. He didn’t have to put his faith in Sita Maiya or any other deity, however, he put his faith in the inability of any human to completely control their ego or change their patterns.

Imlie didn’t dare turn on the radio in the car on the way to the office. Aryan seemed deeply in contemplation about something, and it never ended well for her when she tried to interrupt ABP’s thinking. Who knew what was running through his mind, but it was probably something incredibly boring? She looked at her phone and responded to Shiv’s text from last night.

Finally, she thought, I’m making some progress on becoming a real journalist.

She also felt that Shiv was one of the few good people she had met in Delhi. Him and Priya Didi seemed like the kinds of friends she should be making. She looked over at Aryan again, she still hadn’t figured out if ABP would ever accept her as an actual friend, or why he kept insisting she “wasn’t his friend,” but she knew implicitly that she could trust him. She smiled to herself, thinking about all the silly things Aryan did and said, all the times he had helped her, and how even his anger seemed adorable at times.

“What are you smiling about?” Aryan asked, breaking the silence so harshly Imlie started.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how weird you are.” Imlie replied, smiling wider still.

Aryan raised an eyebrow at her as they approached an intersection, “I’m weird? Me? Not you?” He bit back a smile.

Imlie made a show of tapping her chin and thinking, “I can see why you would think I’m weird, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not weird, I just have a sparkling personality. I think you’d be a lot less weird if you started saying everything that came to your mind. If you keep it all bottled up, you’ll explode. People who aren’t weird have an outlet, it can be anything or anyone, tujhe bhi ek outlet ka zaroorat hai.” (You also need an outlet).

Aryan stopped smiling. He’d been like that once. Saying whatever he felt when he felt it. Laughing easily with his friends and family. But unlike other people, he realized his strength wasn’t in sharing everything with everyone. Because when he did that, he missed important moments. He missed the big picture. Someone who was more serious and invested in their business would have been able to help Arvind earlier. If he hadn’t been careless with his time or his dreams, he might have started work earlier, even if he couldn’t have saved Arvind, it was his seriousness that had kept his family from breaking apart four years ago.

“Sab kuch kehana zarooree nahin hai. Aur, mera bharosa kamaana aasaan nahin hai, na hee meree bhaavanaen.” (It isn't necessary to say everything. And my trust is not easy to earn, neither are my emotions.) Aryan replied.

Imlie didn’t respond for a minute, registering the pain that Aryan wasn’t showing, brewing under the surface of his words.

Then she replied, “Har kisee par bharosa karana ek galatee hai, lekin kisee par bharosa na karana, yah aur bhee bura hai.” (Trusting everyone is a mistake, but not trusting anyone, that's even worse.)

Aryan wanted to respond, but he couldn’t find the words to explain why his trust was so difficult to earn, nor could he explain why he couldn’t trust anyone with his emotions.

Imlie went on, “Aur, tum sahee ho. Sab kuchh kehana zarooree nahin hai. But if you don’t know what has to be said, what feelings have to be felt, for you to feel safe, that might cause you more hurt in the end.” (And you’re right. Saying everything isn’t necessary).

Aryan, shockingly unafraid in this moment, of embarrassment or of Imlie's answer, "Kya main tum par vishvaas kar sakata hoon? Kya main tum par itna bharosa kar sakata hoon ki tumko voh baaten bata sakoon jo main doosaron ko nahin bataana chaahata?" (Can I trust you? Can I trust you enough to tell you the things I don't want to tell others.)

Imlie looked at Aryan, meeting his gaze, and she didn't hesitate in responding, "Haan, tum mujh par bharosa kar sakate ho." She smiled. (Yes, you can trust me).