invisible string ✓

twelve

• ADVIKA •

The evening when I was packing bags for my trip to the Amalfi Coast, I heard the door knock from outside. I strolled at a superhuman speed and opened the door to welcome the five-foot-six-tall owner of the house.

It was a five-foot-ish tall person, but not the owner.

“Hi, Fiorella!” I waved my hand and wore a welcoming grin to get rid of the hopelessness on my face.

“Hi!” She waved back with a grin that was exactly the opposite of my fakeness. “Ummm… I have completed packing. So, I stepped by to see if you need any help.”

“Uh, no, thank you. I have almost completed packing.” I knew that it must be awkward for her, so I added, “But still, you can come inside if you want. I need some companion to talk with.”

Breaking into a thankful chuckle, Fiorella stepped forward a little and asked, “So, shall I come in?”

I moved out of her path to the inside of Ishaan's room (which was where I found myself that morning) while she walked inside and made herself comfortable sitting on the bed with her legs folded.

“So, are you from India?” She dared to do the adventure nobody would wish to do with a stranger next to them.

“Well, yeah. You?” Out of all the modes, I chose the free-spirited mode in this particular conversation with my book boyfriend's housemaid.

“I'm from Tivoli, but came to Milan post-marriage,” she replied. “How did you meet Signore?”

Ah, there goes Advika, shifting the gear from free-spirited to awkward mode.

“Well, I met Ishaan on Instagram.” Like, I can't go telling her that I knew him as my “book boyfriend”, a term which only God knows whether she is aware of or not.

“But, Ishaan left Instagram last year.”

Trust me, these are some of the handful of details that aren't mentioned in the book. One of the signs that I was living in the time between You Belong With Me and its sequel.

Digging for make-believe lies in my brain while scratching the frontal region of my head, I replied, “Uh… Yeah, I was trying to tell that as well. So… The thing is that, ummm… I… Yeah. He left Instagram. I met him before he left Instagram. Then, we transitioned our texts to emails after he left Instagram.”

Mouthing an unbelievable “Oh,” Fiorella nodded her head while I added a question, my glance shifting to the seaweed green notice board. “Uh… I have a question. I'm not sure whether to ask it or not since it's about Ishaan.”

“Oh, sure! You can ask. I'm not surprised, though,” she murmured the last part that was heard by me, who had hearing power sharper than a snake.

“Well, I have seen his poems written on that notice board. And… Is there any girl in his life right now?” I emphasised “right now” in my sentence, because I didn't want her to misinterpret, tell about Maahi, and boil my head hotter than lava.

“Yeah. He has one. I don't know who she is, but I'm sure that Signore is up with some girl.” She unleashed a mischievous grin and squinted her eyes, almost saying, “I know more than this, but I can't say,” without words.

“Okay.” I let out a sigh of disappointment and turned back to pack my bags. “Ummm… Fiorella. Who is Ishaan to you?”

“A brother from another mother. A son I wish I could have. A friend I will never have in another lifetime.” She smiled a nostalgic one and looked down while braiding her fingers. “Who is Ishaan to you?”