In Every Story of Mine (A Jassi-Hardik story)

The 'always' that was always implied

Not even had the first leg got over when Rohit felt he'd had more than enough for IPL for that year (or a lifetime).

Four matches...that was all they'd played so far. Two away, two at home, and it felt like an eternity, and there was no break to be got wherever they went.

Rohit had got used to being in a comfortable state of mind over the past few years; the older he grew, the less external factors affected him. His family, his game, and his teams...that were the only things that could shake him, in a nutshell. He acknowledged that he had a perfect family. He also acknowledged he must be a pretty easygoing person in general, because he rarely fell out with people, rarely took offence, rarely said nasty things—one exception was Virat, but he'd overlook that. His game had also stabilized over time, and once he got used to the turbulent captaincy dump on him courtesy partly the board and partly Virat, he'd had smooth sailing two years.

But the World Cup final last year had done something to him—messed him up in weird ways he couldn't comprehend, even against the 2019 semi-final. Ritika bracingly said it would get better with time.

Unfortunately, he hadn't got that time.

_______________

He couldn't get himself let out the sorrow of the World Cup at all, it was all locked inside, tight, because his focus was on something almost—or more—unpleasant.

His younger brother was breaking more and more with every passing day, and he was helpless. He tried to make sure Harry knew he had a silent force behind him, who would always have his back no matter how many stupid decisions he took on the field.

The worst part was how the public did that in the name of supporting him.

Rohit tried not to let it get to him—because if he did, and broke down himself—who would take care of Hardik?

_______________

The evening before they travelled to Bangalore for the away match against RCB, Rohit was getting ready to drop by his home. Ritika and Sammy had gone ahead, but he'd stayed the afternoon because of a team meeting.

Hardik ambled past his room (Rohit could see in the reflection of the mirror)—and hovered outside the door for a straight two minutes. Then, he turned back in the direction of his own room.

"Hardik?" Rohit called, frowning to himself.

Hardik was inside the room immediately. He might have run or he might have flown, Rohit couldn't tell.

"Yes," said Hardik, like reporting his attendance.

Something in Hardik's expression, however, perturbed Rohit.

"When is Natasha joining the travelling with Aga?" he asked.

"She—she probably won't—this year—"

"Why?" Rohit asked before he could think of a more tactful way of asking it.

Hardik shuffled his feet and looked anywhere but at Rohit. "We're not on the best of terms right now," he admitted finally.

Rohit felt a kind of rage at the universe. How much more could the poor boy take?

"Has it got anything to do with what's going around—?"

"No, no," said Hardik. "It's like the last time we thought of—separating—not really like last time, though—this time I think it'll actually happen."

"No," said Rohit automatically. "You two will work it out."

Hardik chose not to answer that question.