Bridging Hearts

3. Petardo

Her

The house was a whirlwind of activity. With Bhaiya back from London and Dante—a colleague of Bhaiya's—freshly arrived, everything seemed to be in high gear. I had been eagerly anticipating meeting Dante, curious to meet this new guy.

As I rounded the corner into the living room, I saw Dante lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He looked relaxed, though his eyes were scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"Hey there," I said, my voice friendly. "Welcome to our chaotic little corner of the world. Ready for India?"

Dante looked up from his phone, his expression cool. "Hi. Thanks. It's... different from what I'm used to, but I'll manage."

"I'm Tara," I said, extending my hand.

"Dante," he replied, shaking my hand briefly.

Bhaiya wandered in, catching the tail end of our conversation. "How's it going, you two? Dante, settling in alright?"

"Trying to," Dante replied with a tight smile. "It's a lot to take in."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," I said, my tone light but with a hint of challenge. "And if you need anything, just ask."

Ma walked by, eyeing Dante critically. "Is everything alright, Dante? Do you need anything?"

"Just getting acquainted with everything," Dante said politely. "Thank you for the hospitality."

Ma smiled. "You're welcome. If you need anything, just ask."

Bhaiya chuckled. "Tara can be a bit much sometimes, but she's great at making people feel at home."

"Hey, I try my best," I said with a grin. "And don't worry, I'll make sure your stay is... memorable."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "I'll hold you to that."

As Ma reappeared with a tray of snacks and placed it on the coffee table, Dante hesitated for a moment before taking a plate.

"Here, have some snacks. It's the least we can do for our guest," Ma said kindly.

"Thanks," Dante said, clearly trying to gauge the situation. He took a plate and sampled the snacks, his eyes flicking to me occasionally.

Bhaiya decided it was time to change the subject. "Alright, let's not keep Dante in suspense. Tara, any plans for tomorrow?"

"I was thinking of showing Dante around a bit," I said. "Maybe give him a proper introduction to the city."

Dante's eyes narrowed slightly. "That sounds good. I'd like to see what Kolkata has to offer."

"Great! We'll start with some local spots," I said, leaning back into the sofa. "It'll be an interesting day."

Dante leaned back, "Interesting, huh? I'll be the judge of that."

"Just wait and see," I replied with a hint of a challenge. "Kolkata has a lot to offer."

Him

"Actually," I said, reaching into my bag, "I brought a little something for both of you." I handed the gift bag to Tara first. "For you, Tara. It's a bracelet with a star charm. I thought it might suit you."

Tara's eyes widened with surprise and delight. "Oh, this is beautiful! Thank you, Dante. I didn't expect this at all."

"It's my pleasure," I said, feeling a sense of relief at her reaction.

I then turned to Mrs. Basu. "And this is for you," I said, handing her a neatly wrapped package. "It's a scarf."

Mrs. Basu accepted the gift with a warm smile. "How thoughtful of you, Dante. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure," I replied, pleased by her appreciation.

As Mrs. Basu and Arjun drifted off to handle other things, I was left alone with Tara. She was a packet of energy, constantly moving and talking, filling the space with her presence.

"So, what do you think of Kolkata so far?" Tara asked, her eyes dancing with curiosity.

"It's... different," I said, choosing my words carefully. "Loud, colorful, vibrant. A bit overwhelming."

"You'll get used to it," she said confidently. "It's a city that grows on you."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "You're quite the optimist, aren't you?"

She tilted her head, a playful smile on her lips. "Is that a problem?"

"Not a problem," I said. "Just... different from what I'm used to."

"Different isn't always bad, you know," she retorted, crossing her arms.

"True," I conceded. "But sometimes it's hard to adjust."

"Well, maybe you need to learn to be a bit more flexible," she said.

"Flexible?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I'm plenty flexible."

"Oh really?" she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Because from where I'm standing, you seem pretty rigid."

"Rigid?" I scoffed. "Just because I'm not bouncing off the walls like you doesn't mean I'm rigid."

"Maybe if you tried to loosen up a bit, you'd enjoy yourself more," she shot back.

"I don't need a lecture on how to enjoy myself, especially from someone who doesn't know the first thing about me," I snapped.

"Oh, I know enough," she said, her voice rising. "I know that you're a control freak who can't handle a little chaos."

"And I know that you're a loudmouth who doesn't know when to stop talking," I retorted.

Her eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, I thought she might actually hit me. But then she took a deep breath, her expression softening slightly. "You know what? You're right. I don't know you. And you don't know me. So let's stop pretending we do."

"Fine by me," I muttered, turning away.

I stared at her for a moment, then shook my head, chuckling. "Petardo."

She turned back to me, her eyebrows raised. "What did you just call me?"

"Petardo," I repeated, louder this time. "It means firecracker. Seems fitting."

She stared at me. "You're calling me a firecracker?"

"Yeah," I said, crossing my arms. "Because you're all sparks and no substance."

"Petardo," she muttered under her breath. "I like it."

"Good," I said, my tone still challenging. "Because it's not going to change."

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