Apricity

Part 6

Ranveer stared into the sugary, magenta liquid swirling in his hand and softly asked, "Is everything okay? I heard about your participant. Do you need to talk about it?"

The skin around her eyes was more pronounced than ever, making it seem like someone had carved out a hollow abyss that sunk into the depths of her soul. Her once vibrant eyes now looked ashen and lifeless; it was as if all her dreams had been buried in the darkness, never to be seen again.

Her father, her dear and beloved father, had always used performance to try and measure her emotional state. He seemed to think that if she achieved excellent grades or received praise for her work, it signified a happiness that he could trust in. But she knew better; she understood that even the best of performances couldn't fill the emptiness within her heart like her father wanted them too. Despite the many successes she had experienced over the years, she still yearned for something more.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, her hands shaking from nervousness. She twirled the strands of pasta around her fork, avoiding eye contact with him. "It's... it's confidential," she said finally, her tone laced with determination. "No, I meant how you're feeling about it," he persisted, peeling away the layers of her defenses. His words lingered in the air like a stifling fog, pressing down on her until her only safe option was to surrender and let out all of her pent up emotions—the fear, the uncertainty, and the dread.

The sincerity radiating from his eyes and the warmth of his voice shattered the icy facade, breaking down all her walls in an instant. She felt her heart flutter at the tenderness of his words, beckoning her inner child to step out. But before she could do anything else, she bit down hard on her lower lip and forced a thin-lipped smile in an attempt to mask the emotion that threatened to overflow.

"I have no choice, regardless of how I feel. It is my responsibility."

The emphasis on the last word was not lost on Ranveer. As a passionate startup co-founder, the urge to shoulder the burden of every fault was no stranger to him. While it was a conscious choice to him, Ranveer wondered if Suhani considered the responsibility as a burden.

"I understand where you're coming from - it's something I may not have the same knowledge of. But even though we have diverging paths, that doesn't mean you're on this journey alone. You can lean on me whenever you need to. I'm here to lend a listening ear and if desired, any help I can offer."

Her inner child was drawn in by the sincerity in his voice. She had pushed away many a friend and companion due to her refusal to let down her guard; her fear of being vulnerable still held sway over her life. Yet, with this man - Ranveer Dhoopar – she could sense something different. A true gentleman? Perhaps, yet he was indifferent enough for his fiancee to flee the country rather than marry him.

Why should he invest himself so deeply in someone he perceived as a mere business partner? Why should he be so intent on fruitlessly helping her in battles that she could never win?

Suhani looked into her lap and a morose stretch graced her chapped lips. Her eyes - masked like before - found their way to Ranveer. "I thought we had decided this meeting would be about you."

Ranveer's lips curled into a smile. She had not even tried to cover her deflection technique, and he would not be the fool to disrespect her wishes and push further. "Well, what do you want to know?"

The young girl inside her rejoiced at his obedience, but the fear lurking within her whispered of his lack of true feeling. She had wrestled with these two sides of herself for so long, and as yet she had yet to find a way to reconcile them both.

"What would you be comfortable sharing?" she asked, much to his surprise. Had it been his dear friend Avinash, his questions would delve right into the most embarrassing moments of Ranveer's life - the ones that still make him toss and turn at midnight.

"Ahh... baking. It's my passion and something I've loved since childhood," he exclaimed with the fondest glee. "My mother was a baker when I was young, so I'd go to her shop after school and that's where it all began. Now, I have three ovens in my house -- can you believe it?!" His eyes were sparkling with joy as Suhani smiled widely at his enthusiasm.

"That's so sweet." Ranveer grinned. "Do you still have time to bake? As I understand, it takes some time."

"Have to make time for things we love. My team knows not to contact me on Sunday afternoons unless there is something specific I need to address or it is an emergency," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

She had come to expect her father's and Ramesh Kaka's words of worry, questioning the lack of hobbies in her life. But when Ranveer Dhooppar merely uttered his simple truth that she did not make time for the things she truly cared about, it left her feeling listless. Clubbing, networking, hosting parties, playing golf or pool, or collecting vintage items- she felt nothing when presented with such options. "That's nice," was all she could muster.

"And I make different butters as accompaniments for the breads I make. I'd love to bring them for you, if you want to try."

The excitement in his voice made it difficult to turn down his kind offer. "Of course. Thank you for offering."

"Any food allergies or preferences? Sweet or savoury?" he asked.

The thoughtfulness caused her lips to curl into a wide smile, and the anguished child within her blossomed with glorious wistful eyes. Being tangled between her responsibility to the company and what her father expected of her, Suhani had forgotten how consideration could be a blissful reprieve from an unyielding snowstorm.

"I don't have any allergies that I know of. I prefer savoury." Suhani fidgeted with her fingers, making him arch his eyebrow at her uncharacteristic behaviour. "And Italian over French."

His gleeful grin widened to reveal his teeth. "Done! You can come over on Sunday evening. Freshly baked breads offer a unique experience altogether."

"Only if it would not be too much trouble for you," she said. She did not want to overburden the man by taking advantage of his kindness. "Not at all. It would be my pleasure."

A wave of apprehension rippled through her, but she refused to be overtaken by her fears any longer. For too long, they had been the only thing guiding her, and it was time to try a different approach.

"So, Sunday evening it is."