"Don't touch me" Anushka hissed at him.
"I won't, lay down. You need rest" he said.
"What did you call me, 'Anu'?" She asked suspiciously.
"Look Anushka, I don't want to keep you in darkness" Virat said , dragging the chair and sitting beside her be...
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It was the match day. Virat was not nervous like usual. He was feeling a sense of detachment from the game. He hated that feeling, he wanted to be more involved in it, but the weight of both grief and pressure to perform hung heavy over him.
The match day morning was quieter than usual. Virat silently dressed up and arranged his things. He did not spend much time infront of the mirror, styling himself, like he usually does.
Anushka was observing his actions. She loved to watch him get ready, that was her favourite part of the morning, How he gets a little bit self obsessed in front of the mirror was adorable. Can't blame him though, anyone would be obsessed.
But today seemed a bit different, he didn't have that admiration on his face looking at himself. It was as if he didn't have the courage to make eye contact with himself.
"Virat.." Anushka broke the suffocating silence.
"Hmm" he hummed from infront of the dressing table.
"Can I come to watch you today?" She asked him. His eyes slightly lit up. He went and sat down beside her.
"Of course Anu, ye koi puchne waali baat hai? Come let's get this done" he agreed to her.
"Win this Virat, let's win somewhere" she sighed. That gave him some purpose, something to fight for.
"I'll try bub" he didn't sound very convincing. But she didn't dig in further to hurt him. He gave a peck on her forehead and left for the match.
The moment he stepped onto the field, his mind was divided, half on the game and half on the loss they were both carrying. Every ball felt heavier, every swing of the bat was uncertain. His usual sharp focus was dulled by the ache in his heart.
As the overs progressed, he found himself struggling to connect the bat. Frustration was building up, each missed shot was adding to the pressure. He was desperate to do something right, if not for himself, then for her who was sitting in the stands, watching him try to keep it together.
But his form faltered, and before he knew it, his wicket was taken. He got out at 11 of 15 balls, well below what the team needed. Unfortunately for him, all the others failed behind him and they eventually lost the match.
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Afterwards, he sat alone in the dressing room. He was staring blankly at his kit, being unable to shake the overwhelming sense of failure. Maxwell came and sat beside him.
He had wanted to make her proud, to give them both something to smile about, but now it felt like he had let everyone down. His team, his fans, and, most painfully, himself as well.
"It's okay Virat. We have one more chance to turn things around. Let's take this as an aberration. Maybe the loss which had to come in later stage , came now?" Maxwell tried to show him the positive side of it.
