One step closer. Chapter 10 - She likes me? (Adi's POV)

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‘Is she still there?’ I text Manoj.

‘Yes. She is.’ He replies.

That’s good. I book a cab, and wait for it. I open google translate and keep it ready. It has a text to speech option and it makes things so much easier for me. I can just type in my message and the phone would read it out loud. It comes in very handy, especially when I'm hiring cabs. The cab arrives and in no time I reach the studio. Home.

I walk into the metal gate and I see Anu inside the house. She’s looking at me. Her eyes wide open, lips slightly parted, and her body stiff. She looks as if she’s in a daze. What's wrong?

Manoj comes running to me. Shyam follows him. Siri comes as well. But Sanju stays there, rooted. I try to keep up with the conversation Manoj and others are having, but it’s getting difficult to focus. Her eyes are on me, all the time, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t smile. Why?

Siri finally takes a step inside the house. Thank you, Siri. I walk straight up to Sanju. 

There’s a delicate tremble in her hands, and a slight twitch at the end of her lips. Siri, Manoj, and Shyam are around us and they seem to be talking about something, but I don’t have it in me to pay them any attention. My eyes are firmly locked on her. 

“It’ll take a while, you’ll be fine right?” Manoj signs all of a sudden. What will take a while? 

I have no clue. I see Shyam fiddling with the car keys and Siri packing her things. They must be leaving.

***

It’s just the two of us now. She still looks kinda lost. 

‘Are you alright?’ I write a note and show it to her.

“I’m fine,” she signs. She signed? 

“How have you been?” I write on my notepad and show it to her.

“I’m good, how is your father? Is he alright?” She signed again. I knew that she could sign little things, she has picked up a couple of things from the others, but, this is different. A whole sentence. How did she get so good?

“Did I do that wrong?” She says, her eyes a little sad. “I was just asking if your father is doing fine.”

I shake my head immediately, put my notepad back. Looks like I won’t be needing it.

“No. You’ve gotten better at it,” I sign. 

As soon as I say that, her eyes light up and her lips curve into this warm smile. Something tugs at my heart. A warmth. And before I notice, my lips curve into a smile as well. I had to. It has been three months since I've seen her smile like this. She has a very strong hold over my heart. I’ve had my doubts before. It could be a crush. Or Admiration. She is a nice person, so it's natural to like her. I’ve come up with a thousand reasons to explain why she means so much to me. But now, at this moment, I realize that I just want to be around her. I feel more alive when she’s with me. I like her, beyond reason. 

***

She looks so happy looking at the figurine I got her. I’m glad. 

“Thank you,” she says, her lips still curved into that beautiful smile. Her eyes with a hint of gloss. I smile again. I can’t seem to stop them anymore. Exactly how happy am I?

She says something real fast, so fast that I couldn’t read her lips and dashes out of the house. 

And before I could stop her and ask something, she’s out of the house.

What did she say? Why is she in a hurry?

Anyways, I will see her again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, until she’s here.
‘Did you reach home?’ I text her, feeling giddy for some reason. 

‘Yes, I am home.’ I get a reply right away, and my smile comes back again.

I missed her. I missed her so much.

***

Did I do something wrong?

Sanju has been avoiding me for a couple of days now. Or I think.

She shares the project updates and seeks advice if she needs any, but beyond that, nothing. 

Do I make her uncomfortable?

Even when she was not really fond of me, not that she’s now, but even back then - she never really avoided me. Why now? What happened?

With everyone else, she’s acting just fine. What have I done?

“Do you think she’s angry with me?” I ask.

Manoj shoots me an annoyed look.

“No,” he signs. “And can you please stop thinking about it? You overthinked yourself into a fever.”

“I did not,” I protest, as if that is possible. Is it?

“When I told her that you’re sick, she looked very concerned. Worried even. She did not seem angry at all,” Manoj tells me, his signs gentle. 

***

I spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about all the things I could have done wrong, but except for asking her for multiple revisions nothing else really comes up. 

I look at my phone, it’s already 6:00 PM. She should be leaving home now. Will I get to see her tomorrow? Will she tell me what was wrong?

I feel parched. I eye my empty water bottle lying to my side. I pick it up, and start walking towards the door. 

My head feels heavier now that I’m up on my feet. I should take some medicine.

As I walk into the hall, I find someone standing by the main door. 

Did I leave the door open all this time? 

My eyes are a little blurry, so I walk closer to get a better look at the person.

Sanju? Why is she here?

Before I could ask anything, she goes, “How are you now?” 

Her signs hurried. She looks worried.

“I’m ok,” I sign, and my head is starting to get heavier by the minute.

She said something, and I responded, but nothing is being registered in my brain. It’s like I'm on autopilot, giving automated answers without putting any thought into them.

“Come inside,” I signed, the moment I regained some control over my thoughts.

She followed me into the house. How long has she waited outside?

She looks cold, should I get her some warm water?

The next couple of minutes go as I return to the autopilot state. I do things, I say things, but I’m not really conscious of them. 

By the time I come out of the daze, she’s sitting on the couch, and I next to her on a bean bag.

“So you’re not avoiding me anymore?” I ask, what is wrong with me? How could I ask her that!

It’s the fever. It must be the fever.

She looks taken aback. Did I just make things worse?

“You weren't talking to me unless absolutely necessary for the past week. So I thought you were avoiding me for some reason, I wasn't sure about the reason though,” I ask again, my signs slow, trying to salvage the situation a bit. I am not sure it worked though, as she looks just as shaken as before.

I can’t go in a roundabout way any longer. I need to know.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, looking straight at her eyes.

“No,” she says urgently. 

“No? I was thinking that I did something wrong. Good to know that I was mistaken," I say as relief washes over me. If she’s not angry with me or I haven't done anything wrong. That is good enough. It means whatever has gone wrong, I can still fix it. There’s hope.

But why does she look sad?

As I try to ask another question, she starts signing. Her movements slow and deliberate, and her eyes right on me, "No. I did avoid you, but it wasn't because you did something wrong. It was because I liked you so much and I didn't know what to do."
Did she just say what I think she said? Or did she learn the signs wrong? Or did I read them wrong? I am feeling a little lightheaded so it is totally possible.

She likes me?

“You like me?” My fingers form the question all by themselves.

She nods. She smiles. 

“Are you sure?” I ask immediately. I’m still not sure she knows what she’s signing about!

Even if she is, it’s not right. I am not right. 

“That’s not right,” my hands go again.

I feel my phone vibrating, Manoj?

‘I’m bringing you food. Take your medicine and wait.’ I read his text.

“You should go home?” I say, looking back at her.

“What? Why?” She asks. I can see the confusion in her face, but this isn't a good time.

I show her the text from Manoj, she still doesn’t look convinced.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I say. Hoping that she’d think it through.

“Later?” She asks, a little angry, a little confused.

“Later.”

She stands up, turns around, and starts walking. I stand up as well, but somehow I can’t take a step. As I see her walk out of my main gate, all the lightheadedness comes back to me, and I drop down on to the couch.

***

I wake up in the morning on my bed. 

How did I get here? 

I remember Sanju leaving the house, but everything is blank after that.

Sanju.

She said she liked me.

Is it real?

Or did I dream about the whole thing?

Manoj walks in as I’m wrestling with my thoughts.

“How are you now? Any better?” He asks, little concern dappling in his eyes.

“Yes, did you help me to the bedroom?” I ask.

“I found you unconscious on the couch, you wouldn’t wake up no matter how much i tried. I was worried.”

“Sorry,” I say, hovering my fist across my chest. “ and thank you.”

I am feeling much better as the fever broke.

“Stay home today. Take some rest,” says Manoj.

I shake my head. I can’t stay home. I need to go to the studio. I need to see her.

***

She wishes me good morning like always. Did I really make up the whole thing?

The new project we’ve taken up proves to be quite challenging, so all our energies go into it. Two months. We didn’t get to talk about it for two whole  months.

I want to talk to her, but how do I bring it up? And even if I managed to talk about it, what would I tell her? 

That I am not right for her?

That feels quite self indulgent and rude. 

I can see in her eyes that she meant everything she said. Ever Since that day, it has become easier to notice. How did I not see this before? And what should I do about it?

As much as I am happy to know that she likes me, I am more afraid. All my life I’ve seen people close to me adjusting their life for me, it's almost as if liking me comes with a cost. I know they would argue otherwise, but for me it has never been easy to see my family and friends having to answer imposing questions about me. Or having to see them trying to make things comfortable for me everywhere we go. The glances, the stares, the sorry looks, they never really stop. And I hate seeing them trying to shield me from all these things.

I love her. I know that. I love her with all my being. But is that enough? Will that ever be enough?

***

"Sanju and Adi, take a day off tomorrow. Shyam and I will take one later this week," Manoj signs. 

I look at Sanju, she looks happy. 

I should talk to her. It’s no good to drag it longer. I can’t afford growing hopeful. I just can’t.

As she walks out of the studio, I follow her. As I stand in front of her, she looks at me with little fear in her eyes.

“We need to talk,” I say. I can feel my heart thumping. 

“I need to go now, can we talk some other time?” She says, her eyes trying to evade me. 

“Ok. Later then?” I ask.

“Later,” she signs, walking away from me.

***

Should I text her? Or should I call her?

I reach for my phone and click on the video call option next to her name.

If only I could meet her today and talk things out. 

The call doesn’t go through. I try again and again and again, but it just doesn't work. Why?

I leave her text, but it doesn’t go through. 

Did she switch off her phone?

I wait until the evening and try again. It’s still the same, nothing goes through.

Is she alright?

My phone vibrates and I pick it up with hope. Is it her?

It’s Manoj.

I pick up the call, but he doesn’t say a thing. He looks a little worried though.

“What happened?” I ask.

His hands move hesitantly as if he’s debating something.

“So I just got an email from Sanju. She has broken her hand. She’s fine now, don’t worry. She has to wear a plaster cast for 4 weeks though,” He finally manages to say.

What? Broken arm? 

“And her phone is broken. I just wanted to let you know,” He continues, looking at me with worried eyes.

I can’t seem to find anything to say. I stare at him blankly for a while before managing to ask him, “Can you text me her address?”

He doesn’t say a thing.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

I could only give a nod. 

I should go see her. 

Manoj texts me her address right away, and I find myself in front of her house after a while.

I came here on a whim, but is it appropriate? It’s her home. I shouldn’t be doing this right? 

As I battle with my heart and mind, the door opens, and someone steps out. It must be Sanju’s father. I’ve heard a lot about him from her, but this is my first time seeing him in person.

What should I do?

“Adi?” he says.

Does he know me?

I nod.

“Are you here to see Sanju?”

I nod again. Is it alright? Can I be here? Would I be bothering her?

“Relax first. She’s fine,” he says, looking at my hands.

I look down at my hands, and I notice a slight shiver in them. Have I been trembling?

It feels overwhelming all over again. I feel my eyes getting heavier and I can’t seem to hold my head in place. 

I lift my head, and I see her walking towards the door.

A cast snugly wound around her hand, and her hand resting in an arm sling.

Is she in pain?

I can’t seem to move my eyes off her. I know that her father is right here, but it feels physically impossible for me to look away from her.

Her father turns to her, says something and leaves.

It’s just us.

***

“Does it hurt?” I manage to ask after struggling to move my hand for a good couple of minutes.

“It doesn’t, it just feels uncomfortable,” She says. As well as signs.

“How did it happen?” 

“I slipped and fell down,” she says. Her fingers are still moving uncomfortably under the cast. It looks painful. 

“Stop signing,” I say, I can feel a frown on my face. 

She looks at her own hand, in disbelief. She didn’t realize she was doing it?

“Sorry, i didn't realize, it must have been distracting,” she looks sorry.

What is she talking about? 

“No,” my hands move, urgently, angrily.

What is she thinking?

She doesn’t say a thing and keeps looking at me. 

“Is everything ok with the project?” she finally asks.

Why is she talking about the project now?

I look at her again. Apart from the cast, her ankle seems a bit swollen. It must have hurt a lot. It must be hurting a lot. My eyes move to her face. She looks exhausted with her eyes sunken in a little. 

"I called you. I've been calling you, but it wouldn't get through. Then Manoj said you broke your hand and I was worried. I wanted to see for myself,” I say. The frown grows deeper on my face and a film of water spreads in front of my eyes. 

“Sorry. I broke my phone, so I couldn't call you back," She says. "I am fine though."

Fine? 

I know this is what people usually say in these situations, but I wish she didn’t. I wish she would tell me the truth. I wish she’d let me help, in any little way possible. Then maybe I’d know what to do with myself, and not drown in the constant torment of ascertaining if she’s in pain and how much. 

"Come inside," she says, leading the way in.

***

She points to the couch and I sit on it.

"I need to talk to you." 

"Ok," she nods.

"You said you like me," I say, I am not sure if I can bring this up now, but somewhere in my heart it feels like I should. Right now. I know it feels shameless for me to do this, but there’s no helping it.

She nods.

"You still do?" I ask, feeling a little fear flaming inside. Does she still? It might be for the better if she doesn’t, but I have a feeling that I’ll be heartbroken if she says no.

She throws me an angry look.

So No? Not anymore?

"What difference does it make, you already told me that it's not right," She says, her face red with anger. "Why talk about it again?" 

I’ve never seen her angry before. Irritated yes, bothered yes, but angry, not once.

"We agreed to talk about it later," I say, as I stand up. I feel a fear consuming me. Maybe she doesn’t like me anymore? Is she angry at me for bringing it up. What am I to do?

Though some part of me is relieved for her, the rest are not. It’s a mess. A mess I expected myself to be in.

"Can we not talk about this? I know you were going to talk me out of it." she says, and I feel a sliver of hope sprouting through that mess I made of myself.

"Please," I ask, I shouldn’t do this. I should leave it at that. 

"No." She’s stern.

"Why?"

"I don't want to get an elaborate rejection. Thank you. Sorry,” She says them all quite fast and it takes me some effort to keep up with her. But wait. Elaborate rejection? 

"Who said anything about rejection?" I ask. What is she thinking about? How can I reject her? She should reject me.

"Oh, you weren't planning to?" she asks, her anger going down a notch, and she looks a little pleasant. Just a little. 

"I was..,” I try to explain and fail. How do I put it? I am not planning to reject you, I’m planning to get rejected. That sounds stupid. 

She glares at me. I don’t think I can salvage this situation. I’ve thoroughly messed it up. 

After a minute or two, calm returns to her face and she says, "I understand.”

I don’t think she understands anything. No. No

"No, you don't."

She throws her arms in the air in disbelief. "Ok. Go on!” she says, and crosses her hands. Is it ok to cross hands? My eyes linger over her cast for a few seconds.

They go back to her face, she looks so convinced that she isn’t going to like anything I say. She looks like she’s waiting for this whole thing to be over with. I can't let her believe that I rejected her. I could never.

I gather all my courage, and bare my heart to her. My fears, my apprehensions, my family, my friends, the not so kind world around us. Everything that screamed that I shouldn’t be with her. I tell her all that. 

"When I say it's not right, I mean it's not right for you. It's not that I don't like you, I don't know if I'm allowed to.."

It is not easy to share your insecurities with someone else. And it is especially hard if that someone is special to you. So special that your heart aches for them. Did I do the right thing? My head feels heavy again, and my heart thumps faster. 

She uncrosses her arms and takes a step towards me. What is she doing? I freeze. Her lips curve into that little smile again and I feel lost. The knots in my heart, the mess in my head, the heaviness, the tears, everything feels better. It’s like the clouds are finally clearing up. Should I be feeling relieved? I know she’s saying something, but I can't seem to read her lips very well at the moment. Is it because of the tears in my eyes? Everything looks a little blurry. 

"...........I want to be with you as much as I can. I miss you when you're not with me.………………….you are all I can think about. You intrigue me, you annoy me, and you make me mad, but ………………………………………..I can't help liking you more and more. …………………………..but can you try to trust me on this? Can you be with me? ………………………………………………………whatever I do is because of my selfish need to be with you. Can I be with you?"

You are all I can think about. Want to be with you as much as I can. Selfish need to be with you. Can I be with you?

I replay her words over and over in my head. I feel lightheaded again. She looks at me with so much hope and longing.

"It is not going to be easy, you don't understand," My hands move in a last attempt to make her understand. I don’t think I can protest any longer. It’s not possible to hold out when it's her. And when i am so desperately in love with her. 

"I know, but you'll be there with me right? You're going to teach me right?" She asks and I know I must give in. I want to give in. 

I try to come up with something to say. Something elaborate. Something heartfelt. I need to show her just how much she means to me. Just how much I need her. There are so many things I need to tell her, but I just can’t. My hands are numb, I can't move them. My eyes still have the trace of tears, but I see her more clearly now. A subtle warmth engulfs my body, and I do the only thing I can at the moment. I nod.

And I desperately hope that is enough. I hope it is enough to show all the love I have had for her. I feel my eyes welling up again, and there’s no way I can stop them. I feel so many things at this moment, but most of all I feel thankful that she finds me likable. 

A tear escapes my eye. I’m crying. I must look awful. 

Her hand gently reaches me and tries to wipe a tear off, my hand follows her and holds it in place, by my cheek. I feel warm all over again. This is real. And my tears won’t stop.

I drop my head into her shoulder. All my anxieties wash away with the tears. I slowly pull myself back, put her hand back to her side. I need to do this right.

I take a step back, look into her eyes, and cross my hands over my chest, while a little smile appears on my lips. “I like you.”

I see her smile grow into the biggest smile I've ever seen. She falls into me, and ends up bumping her hand. 

I see a flash of pain in her eyes.

“Are you ok?” I sigh, but she’s paying me no heed. She falls into me again, this time her hands make their way around me and wrap me in the warmest of hugs. I just can’t. This is insane. I find myself letting out a chuckle, the happiness is too much to contain inside.

My hands follow suit and I hug her back. Can I just stay like this for as long as I can? Head lying snugly on my chest, her hands around me, one of my hands cradling her and the other gently caressing her hair. This is everything.

I drop my head a little to reach her but she pushes me back. I fall onto the couch.

What happened? No. no. What was I about to do?

“Nanna,” she says, as I look at her. 

I feel nervous. I quickly stand up and adjust my hair, and my clothes, and wipe away the rest of my tears with such urgency. There’s no way I’d let her father see me like this. 

I see her laugh, I ask why, but she says nothing. I feel tingly all over. One little laugh, and I lose all sense.

Her father walks in, looks at us and gives us a warm smile.

I don't know why, but it feels like everything just worked out. Everything is perfect.

I look back at her, and she is smiling as brightly as ever.

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