Always a Match

Chapter: Three

|Chapter 03|

Sighing for the umpteenth time, I stare out at the cityscape with a straight face, swivelling in the chair against my desk as I gaze at the morning skies, bright and lively. It is a stark contradiction to my thoughts which are dark and messed up since last night.

A knock on the door tells me that someone's outside. Turning, I respond, saying, "Come in."

Kaveri, my housekeeper, peeks in as she pushes the door open. "Sahib, it's Aman Tripathi, he's come to see you," she tells me.

"Tell him I won't be coming to office today," I tell her. Nodding, she leaves, closing the door behind her.

Glancing back at the desk, I flip open my phone and gaze at that ID for a while, my fingers turning still with contemplation. The name flashes on the screen as a saved contact in white, bold letters, 'Baba'. Even wondering about uttering his name makes my throat constrict with unease and anxiety now.

It's been a while now, Kiran.

Don't you think I know that?

I think it's time that you let go of all that and maybe fix it all?

I'm not the one who...who broke it all. Why should I be the one fixing it?

Stop being a baby. It's been ages since you even saw him last.

My thoughts are interrupted by a figure who barges in without any pleasant knocks or greetings, compelling me to avert my eyes over to the sudden intruder. "Malhotra will kill me if I tell him that you're not available, and you know it!" Aman yaps, slamming the door behind him as he approaches me with furrowed brows.

"But I don't wanna go to work today." Yeah, I probably whine like a child, but can you blame me? There are days when I just want to stay indoors, giving myself some time to sort my thoughts out.

"Easy for you to say," Aman scoffs, crossing his arms as if offended, "after all, I'm the assistant who needs to digest all those shitty remarks and dirty looks from the elites when I tell them that you're not available to meet."

My lips curl into a faint smile as I process his words. Aman Tripathi has been not just an assistant to me, but in the past nine years that I have known him, he has grown to be more of a friend who understands me best. He and I, both, were total amateurs when we stepped into this industry of cricket councils and we both have made tremendous development, learning something from one another every now and then.

"It's just that...a thought has been nagging me since last night, Aman," I tell him.

"Let's hear it," he suggests, settling down over a seat facing me, his hazel eyes peering at me attentively.

"Was it all a mistake, Aman?" I ask him. The boy only furrows his brows in confusion.

"What?" he asks back.

"I mean...I joined the Ranji board of selectors at the age of nineteen and things took a drastic turn from there," I explain, fiddling with the pen in my hand. "Cricket has turned into more of a word than a game to me now. I meet players, supervise them and help them achieve what they want but..." I trail off, not really knowing where I'm heading with my thoughts now.

"But this is not what you wanted to do," Aman finishes for me, a thoughtful look crossing his sharp features.

"Yeah," I sigh, "I mean...maybe?"

"Do you want to bounce back?"

The question causes me to look up at Aman, his assessing eyes locked in on my face. Bounce back to the game? I wonder internally. And almost instantly, I hear my nagging subconscious mind scoff at me.

When was the last time you held a bat?

Just a week ago...

Dude! That was the time when you were passing the bat to a boy!

But I did hold the bat!

Fine, let me ask it this way: When was the last time you played cricket?

Um...in a gully about a few years back...but that's not the point! Talent and experience matter most.

Fitness does too, fatso.

"Zoning out again, huh?" Aman's voice drawls to me, jerking me out of my conflicting state.

"Do you think I've gotten fat?" I ask, my eyes wide with horror.

Aman blinks once before cackling into a chain of loud, flamboyant laughs, clutching his stomach as he throws his head back, still laughing like a maniac. "What's this about now?" he asks between his giggles, wiping a tear off his eye.

"Just answer me!" I whine, sighing at him.

"No, you're still in shape," Aman manages to speak, fanning his face with his hand and trying to regain composure.

"So that means I can still resume to my fitness routine from when I was playing?" I ask, my voice glinting with slowly rising excitement.

"Yeah, why not," Aman nods.

But as I think about it all, those remnants of memories flash through my head, causing me to lose my smile which was growing persistently until now. Those disappointed glances, the painfully agonizing words, and that eerie night at the railway station...It all came rushing back, making the bile rise in my stomach and a sick feeling coursing through my veins.

When I finally blink out of that sudden recollection and find Aman looking at me expectantly, I glance away, my jaw set with resignation.

"So?" Aman pushes when I don't appear to be speaking anytime soon.

"Tell Malhotra that I'd be seeing him sharp eleven in the morning," I mumble, pushing myself out of the seat and strolling over to the windows, my back facing Aman.

"What?" Aman asks, his voice lacing confusion. I can practically feel his scowl now.

"You heard me, Aman," I say, my back still facing him.

Sighing, I listen to the faint roll of the chair as the boy gets up and strolls out of the study, closing the door behind him with a click, and leaving me in the sole company of my wrecked thoughts and tormenting memories.

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Author's Note:-

Heyyaaa people! I hope y'all are staying hydrated enough :3

No descriptive a/n today cause its 1 in the night and I wanna eep T^T

Stay happy and healthy! 

Love,

Arhana <3