A Bargain Made with Frosting

Ch 34. Lost and Found: Between Laughter, Tears, and the Open Road

Annika head snapped up, her laughter fading. A wave of recognition washed over her inebriated state. "Mr Oberoi!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with delight. "There you are! I was starting to think you got lost."

Shivay reached her, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. Gone was the sophisticated woman he knew, replaced by a stranger with a giggly innocence.  "Lost? But what brings you here, Annika?" He gently steered her away from the imaginary crowd.

"Talking with my mumma and papa," she explained, her words punctuated by hiccups. She pointed towards the sky, her expression serious. "See, that's them!  And this," she gestured towards Shivay,"is my husband! Isn't that right?"

Suddenly, a wave of insecurity washed over her, her eyes welling up with tears.  "But I can't remember his name! Am I a bad wife?" Before Shivay could respond, she threw her arms around him, tears soaking his shirt. "I'm a terrible wife," she mumbled repeatedly.

Shivay, caught off guard by her outburst, carefully disentangled himself. A faint scent of alcohol hung in the air, and a sliver of concern pricked at him.  "Annika, what have you been drinking?"

Annika's tears stopped momentarily, replaced by a conspiratorial wink. "Just a little something," she slurred. Holding up three fingers then two, she declared,  "Maybe five or ten glasses? I don't even remember.  But it's good, don't worry!"

Realization dawned on Shivay. Annika was intoxicated, and clearly not handling it well.  "Annika, let's go home. You must be tired.

Annika, however, had other plans. She lurched to her feet, swaying precariously. "Let's go!" she declared, promptly setting off in a random direction, her steps more of a drunken stumble than a purposeful walk.

Shivay hurried after her, gently steering her towards the intended exit. "Annika, we need to go this way," he explained patiently.

But Annika, fueled by her inebriated whims, insisted on her chosen path. After several frustrating minutes, Shivay finally managed to coax her back on track.

They reached the parking lot, and Shivay, momentarily distracted by the need to retrieve her purse he'd snagged earlier, turned away for a split second. When he looked back, Annika was gone.

Panic surged through him. He called her name, his voice echoing through the empty lot. Just as despair threatened to consume him, a muffled giggle reached his ears, coming from the side of his car.

Relief washed over him as he found Annika huddled there, her hands clapped over her mouth in a fit of giggles. "Annika, what are you doing?" he sighed, exasperation laced with amusement.

"You found me!" she squealed, her voice laced with childish delight. "Now it's my turn to find you! Go hide, we're playing hide-and-seek!"

Shivay closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Dealing with a sober Annika was challenging enough, but this intoxicated, playful version was proving to be a handful. He tried reasoning with her, explaining the need to get home, but she was fixated on this new game.

Thinking on his feet, Shivay offered a compromise. "Annika, how about we ditch hide-and-seek and grab some ice cream instead?"

The mention of ice cream brought a wide smile to her face. She grabbed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong despite her wobbly stance. "Ice cream!" she yelled, pulling him with surprising force. "We gotta hurry before they run out!"

Shivay chuckled, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Annika, the car will get us there faster."

Thankfully, this time his suggestion registered. She nodded eagerly and followed him towards the car. Settling her in the passenger seat, Shivay buckled her up and started the engine.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, a single thought dominated his mind: how on earth was he going to handle this over-energized, childish version of Annika for the entire drive home?

The drive home was a comical battle between Shivay's growing fatigue and Annika's boundless energy. Every twist and turn sent her into a fit of giggles, punctuated by nonsensical questions and demands for nonexistent landmarks.

"Are we there yet?" she'd ask every few minutes, her voice laced with a playful impatience that only someone fueled by sugary drinks and stolen cocktails could muster.

"Almost, Annika," Shivay would reply patiently, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel to compensate for her occasional attempts to grab it and "steer" herself.

One particularly bumpy stretch of road sent Annika into a song-and-dance routine. Belting out a hilariously off-key rendition of a popular Bollywood song, she thrashed her arms and legs in the confined space of the passenger seat. Shivay, ever the responsible husband, tried his best to ignore the chaos while simultaneously ensuring her flailing limbs didn't interfere with his driving.

Just when he thought he couldn't take another minute of the inebriated performance, Annika abruptly stopped.
Her glazed eyes stared out the window, a film of rain blurring the streetlights. A thoughtful frown replaced her earlier manic grin.

"Shivay," she slurred, her voice thick with a sudden, heartbreaking seriousness. "Why are my mom and dad are crying? Did God not take care of them? Should I go up and tell him to take care of them? Whenever they cry, it always rains."

Shivay's heart ached. The misplaced grief, fueled by the alcohol, was a stark reminder of the void Annika carried.  He pulled over to the side of the road, the car's sudden halt startling Annika out of her reverie.

"Annika, listen," he said gently, turning towards her. "Your mom and dad are in a much better place now, a place without pain or sadness. And the rain... well, it's just the weather changing."

He knew his explanation wouldn't erase the confusion swirling in her inebriated mind, but it was all he could offer in the moment. Annika blinked at him, her brow furrowed in concentration. The rain continued to lash against the windshield, a melancholic rhythm that mirrored the sadness in her eyes.

"But they looked sad, Shivay," she insisted, her voice a mere whisper. "And it's raining so hard. Maybe God didn't hear me when I prayed for them before I left for the party."

Shivay felt a lump forming in his throat.  He reached out and took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Annika, God hears all our prayers," he said softly.  "And your parents wouldn't want you to be sad. They would want you to be happy."

A single tear rolled down Annika's cheek, tracing a glistening path through the faint mascara smudged on her face.  Shivay brushed it away with his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek for a moment longer than necessary.

"I miss them," she whimpered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Shivay knew then that the night wouldn't just be about dealing with a drunken Annika. It would be about offering comfort, about reminding her of the love that surrounded her, even in the absence of her parents. He squeezed her hand gently.

"I know you do" he murmured. "But you're not alone. You have me, and you have your friends and my family. We all love you very much."

Annika looked at him, her eyes searching his face. A flicker of recognition seemed to spark behind the veil of intoxication. Then, a ghost of a smile touched her lips.

"Shivay," she mumbled, a childlike yearning creeping into her tone, "let's talk to my friends."

Shivay sighed he understood the unpredictable nature of intoxication, how quickly emotions could shift. "Annika" he began gently, "let's get home first, alright? Then, we can talk to your friends. In the meantime, why don't you play some games on your phone?"

He retrieved her phone from where it had likely fallen during her carpool karaoke session and handed it to her. As he restarted the engine, a silent wish escaped his lips - for a smooth ride home, for the rain to ease, and for Annika's inebriated state to wear off quickly.