Loving You

Chapter 11 - Akshara - Midnight Rendevous

The rain drops pelted against the windows. The crackling sound of lightening and the heavy gusts of winds sounded around the 20th floor of my Manhattan apartment. It was becoming a heavy downpour which meant that it was time to cozy up with some snacks and a heartwarming movie on Netflix. I grabbed my plate of freshly fried kachoris and carried them to the living room as more rain poured against the window, becoming stronger and stronger.

The weather in NYC changed in the blink of an eye. After being sunny the entire day, the weather had suddenly announced that it was changing to the thunderstorm channel now much like her boss, Dr. Abhimanyu Birla changed his attitude every hour.

Thank god that I did not have to go in early tomorrow and not see his face until later in the day. Today had been an absolute shit show. All my excitement had died down the minute I had bumped into the arrogant jerk of a boss in the elevator.

I didn't even know why my talking to the other guy, Vikram, as I remembered his name got Abhimanyu so pressed. Ever since he had stepped out of that elevator and I had made the mistake —yeah that's what it felt like now —of talking to Vikram, all I was met with was a very grumpy boss who did nothing but shoot daggers with his eyes and spew venom, very harsh and insulting venom with his tongue.

But it was okay, I got this. All I had to do was just check in with Abhimanyu every morning and then I could go on and never have to hear him, speak to him or see him again during the day. Or at least I hoped so. But then again, nothing in my life was turning out how I wanted it to. So even hoping for this was a gamble.

But still, my mind always wandered to the drunk and vulnerable Abhimanyu that I had met a few days ago. That man had so much pain inside of him. So much to say. A huge chunk of my heart missed him. I really want him to come back. I knew I was being selfish but just something about him, his hollowness of his eyes, the loneliness in his voice, the emptiness of the place he called home —it just spoke to me.

Sometimes I really wondered if the Dr. Abhimanyu Birla I saw every day at work was just a front, a mask that he let on so no one would dare come close to him and unravel the real him. Because the Abhimanyu whom I had met the first night was different. I couldn't put it into words how, but he was different.

Stop it Akshara. Stop thinking about boss. You just have to accept that he is not what you think he is. Just let it go.

I stepped back into the kitchen to make myself a nice cup of tea. Kachoris and tea during a rainy night, two of my favourite things. I opened fridge and took out my carton of milk when the doorbell rang. My eyes immediately went to the time clock on the stovetop to see it was 1am. And I knew my roommate was staying over at her boyfriends for the night. So it couldn't be her either.

I walked over to the door and looked into the small peephole on the door to see who it could be. But all i received was darkness. Whomever it was, they were covering the peephole. Normally I was an avid viewer of horror movies and enjoyed them thoroughly. I just didn't wish to be a part of one.

The doorbell rang again, and clearly, a smart person would have just let it ring and walked away. But clearly when God was handing out smartness to his little minions, he for sure skipped over me. Because I did the one thing they teach you not to do in a Self-Defense and Personal Safety 101 class. I opened the door, to what might be a potentially very dangerous stranger.

My eyes widened in shock as I stared at the face of a very dangerous non-stranger, at least to me, he was very dangerous. Abhimanyu Birla —sorry — Dr. Abhimanyu Birla was standing in front of me, in the flesh.

I eyed him from bottom to top. He was drenched. Soaking in the cold New York City rain water. His jeans were soaking wet, his tee shirt sticking this chest like cling wrap. I could see the clear outline of his pecks, all 6 of them.

My eyes slowly travelled up his chest and toward his face. His hair was messy and wet, with little droplets trickling down his hair, one by one and along the side of his cheeks. You are supposed to be mad at him, Akshara. Angry. Furious. Enraged. Not ogling him as if he was your favourite piece of chocolate, you shameless, lusty woman.

Oh right. That. I did forget I was supposed to be angry at him. Time to our your game face on, Akshara.

"What're you doing here?" I whispered, so quietly that I felt only I had heard it. I was so mesmerized by the man standing in front of me that my voice had an automatic breathlessness that was clearly not supposed to be there. I cleared my throat, shook myself of my delusions and tried again.

"What are you doing here?" Better. My voice, more crisp this time.

"I...I needed to talk to you. Explain myself. For earlier."

The constant raindrops dripping from his body were distracting. Very much so. Sometimes from the tips of his hair. Sometimes from his nose to his lips. Or sometimes from his chin onto the floor. He was one hot soaking mess.

"There is nothing for you to explain." I folded my arms around my chest.

"There is. Hear me out. Please."

"First of all, how did you get my address? Have you been stalking me?"

"No. HR. I just asked HR for your address."

"Isn't that infringing on my privacy?"

"Yeah that...and it's sort of illegal too. Please don't tell HR." He replied innocently, giving me his best shy boy grin.

His confession made me smile. Damnit. Why?! Why did the jerk have to be so terrible at humour. And why did I have to find his type of humour funny?! What was wrong with me?

"And yet you decided to show up. Pretty daring of you, Dr Birla."

"Abhimanyu. Call me Abhimanyu."

I raised my eyebrow. "But you said to call me Dr. Birla at the hospital."

"That was then. This is now. We're off the clock now. So Abhimanyu."

I took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry. But I can't keep doing this. You treat me like shit during the day, insult me and then show up at my work or like now at my home to ask for an apology to explain yourself. I'm not a game you can play, Dr. Birla...Abhimanyu...or whatever it is you want to be called. Honestly speaking, I'm tired of you being hot and cold with me. It's exhausting and I don't have the capacity or the energy to deal with all this. So it's better if we keep whatever it is between us strictly professional. So it's for the best of both of us if you leave."

"Akshara...I understand..."

"No...no...I don't think you do."

"Look, I know I acted like a jackass to you today."

"A jerk. An asshole."

"Okay. A jerk and an asshole too. And I know you're angry —"

"Enraged. Furious." I quipped.

"Yes that. And I'm not saying I'm an easy person to work with. I'm complicated, messy, mean, rude. Trust me. I'm all of those things. I was unfair to you today. I know that. But please give me a chance to explain myself. I'm not going to defend my actions but let me apologize. Please."

I took a deep breath, mauling over his words. "Would you like a cup of tea?" I stepped to the side as an invitation for him to enter.

Abhimanyu's eyes lit up in hope, in excitement. "I'd love one. Thank you, Akshara." He whispered as he stepped into my apartment.

The lyrics to Taylor Swift's "I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In" applied aptly to this situation. I knew Abhimanyu Birla was trouble and I was inviting him in. And letting him walk all over me.