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INDULGING INTO a mess, thinking it would be something very different and concerning, was the most stupid thing me and Maryam had ever decided to do. We could have left Aimée and her life on her own. But we didn't. Our petty 'aching hearts' supposed that there might be more to all that shit. We listened more to our hearts than to our brains.
We didn't grasp the fact that not everything is complicated and not everything should be the matter of our concern. Even the most no-melodrama situation can be painful to hear and digest. Provided the circumstances of anxiousness we were in earlier, we could not bear to believe that it was all just a 'bad decision'.
However, then again, bad decisions could screw up a lot of things. Like it screwed our heads up.
“It was you who asked them to stop looking for you, wasn't it?”
Although she framed a question, Aunt Vaidehi's voice made it evident that she was making an utterly true statement.
Aimée Monet was on the floor beside me, clutching my left hand in hers. Up until now, she had her head down, probably in guilt and regret. She looked up to find Vaidehi's sharp eyes piercing into her soul. I guessed it was the first time I saw Aimée's lips quivering. Was it out of fear? I didn't know.
She sighed and nodded. My breath hitched.
“I used my first ever number to text you. And after I was done, I threw away the SIM card and destroyed it.”
“You thought that would stop us?” said Mar.
“I did, yes. But…”
“...that didn't happen.” intruded bunny boy.
Aimée's grasp tightened. She looked down to the floor. Her head had again bowed before us of guilt.
Out of nowhere and a sheer suddenness, my head started pounding. It was absolutely uncalled for. But then I guessed, it might be an effect of the journey or whatever shit I heard here. My hands shot free of Aimée's hand to my temples, with my fingers fiercely pressing them.
“What is it? Owlie?”
My closed eyes started burning with tears once again. I felt Aimée getting up hurriedly and probably rushing out of the room. A minute later, I found her offering me a glass of water.
“Coffee's on the way.”
Monet smiled.
I hated her. I hated her because she knew what I needed at that moment. I hated her because the way she smiled was enough to cure my misery. I hated her because even after misleading me (or us), she could lighten my heart just by smiling like that.
“She likes marshmallows with her coffee.” Vrishank added.
Aimée turned around to look at him. I couldn't see her face. But she was most definitely thinking about something I did not want to hear right then.
