Rent Free

7.Icy veins

It is said that every first date is a potential start of something beautiful.

Every minute feels like a second.

And for the third wheel, every second feels like a lifetime.

"Fries," Ishan said as he placed the tray on the table that was in a secluded corner. "Y/n, what about that chocolate shake?"

"I'm good, Ishu," you declined his offer. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said and nodded his head towards his best friend, his heart almost melting at your daughter's adorable face as he left.

You waited until Ishan was seated on another one of the tables with Shubman's manager, watching your daughter who sat on the table.

"I get that your feelings run deeper than mine," you started. "I do like you from all the times we've hung out together, but I don't have anything more than that to say. I want us to give it a shot, with you knowing my daughter will always be my priority."

Shubman listened as Nini played with his hands, occasionally reaching for the ketchup bottle and then letting it go.

He was just as cheery as the movie marathon last night, nodding to your words.

"I understand to a certain level that your time is limited," he replied. "We might not be able to spend all the free time with each other, but my energy would go towards taking care of Nini too."

He pushed the tray with fries towards you, with the slightest of a smile on his face.

"Okay," you said in a low tone. "I'm glad you understand."

The rest of brunch was you talking about how your work schedule usually is, Shubman's practice sessions while your daughter playing with him.

"Shubman," his manger, who'd previously been sitting with Ishan, appeared. "It's almost time. You're supposed to leave for the ad shoot in a couple of hours."

Before the cricketer could say anything, you told him it was fine, and that you might have to leave for grocery shopping too.

It's his manager's titular job as well. You've spoken with him a couple of times during the last IPL season. He's nice.

Ishan was so adamant on wanting to sponsor at least the fries that Shubman had to stay behind, after paying for the rest of the meal.

He held your daughter in his arms, because she never seemed to not want his company either.

"Do you want that?" He asked when she tried to reach out for the chocolate by the rack near them.

He moved closer and she finally grabbed the item she desired, holding it close to herself.

"Alright then," he kissed the side of her head before handing the chocolate to the cashier as soon as Ishan was done.

"What's that?" The older one asked and Shubman raised the chocolate bar up so that the former could get a better view.

To'ak chocolate from Ecuador. $685 for a 1.5-ounce bar. 57,126.16 INR for 42.5243 grams. This is the Bugatti Veyron of chocolates.

You stood a few feet away from the best friends, watching outside the glass walls of the empty café.

When you turned back, you found Shubman's manager glancing at you now and then, prompting you to speak up.

"What?" You asked and he just shrugged.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "It's just that I don't often see single parents this successful. Fairly speaking, you've been holding up well, you're well off. You just have it all easy."

You stared at him for a few seconds before replying. "Just because I don't say something, doesn't mean it isn't there."

Who said it was easy?

You remember your heart threatening to jump out of your chest as you waited for the pregnancy test to show up negative.

You remember the time you sat alone in the waiting chairs of a hospital corridor as one last resort of hope.

The hope that vanished with the analyzed results, once again when the doctor told you it was too late when you figured it out.

You remember all the times you went for your doctor's appointment alone.

Your parents who had as in a sense of words, disowned you. Though they came around later.

They'd started looking for you the very next day, but you'd gone too far.

Not being able to sleep at night when your back and limbs hurt.

Hunched over the sink as you threw up what you ate that day.

Managing to find a hostel, but being kicked out when they discovered you being a 'disgrace to society,' and then struggling to find a new home.

A part time job in a burger joint, taking extra shifts so that you'd save enough for the future expenses.

People refusing to hire you in the third trimester.

The judgmental stares of people, the words of relatives that labeled you a whore.

You remember your handful of sleeping pills that you dropped when your water broke.

The first months after childbirth, when you knew nothing or the first thing about taking care of a baby, let alone be a parent.

Times when you skipped meals to make sure you had money for a pediatrician.

Sleepless nights as you stayed up crying with her, not knowing what you were going to do.

You remember spiraling down a dark pit that seemed bottomless. Never ending in a way you couldn't even scream out for help anymore.

No. It was not easy.