L3 - A letter, some love and damn luck (COMPLETED ✅)

Epilogue

Juliet in disguise of Cinderella

D I Y A

“Now, you need to spill”, Hardik demands of me.

I sigh out a gentle breath.

“How did you get this? And, how did you get me? ”, I ask him.

Knowing him, nothing is possibly impossible for him.

“Your theory of handkerchiefs were too laid off. That's when I began to doubt you. The next thing I noticed was an earring that had fallen off on the floor. It was just one of it and I hadn't mentioned Darshan, because he is a fool. I hid it in his desk, where he never searched for anything.

But, to my surprise, I find the earring gone, the next day. Whomsoever it might belong to, she had to keep it with her all the time because, if she were off guard, she would be caught in an instant. So imagine my surprise when I find the pair of earrings in your pocket while we were chased down by the bear. So, the doubt was now gone.”, he concludes.

“You went to real depth for this, didn't you?”, I ask him in a teasing tone.

“I want answers now”, he demanded.

“What if I don't?”, I ask back. I know it's futile, but I still need to keep my mouth shut.

“I hope you don't want Darshan to know about it”, he looks at me.

“As expected of you”, I snicker.

He scowls.

Silence follows and the breeze passes by.

“You also think that having romantic feelings for your brother is illegal, don't you?”, I ask him, quite feeling myself.

“Not until I understand your situati—”, I cut him in between and start speaking up for myself. Everybody says that. Nobody stays after listening. “Have you ever wondered why Darshan and I are the same age despite the age difference being just four months?”

He stays quiet and seems like having an Internal battle. A shocked expression moulded on to his face.

Therefore, replying him, I begin.

“The first of my memories goes back to when I was five years old and my mom crying on the patio on the death of my dad. He was a journalist and was covering a story for some politician. Although the reports said that it was merely and accident, I can't bring myself to believe it.

The second of my memories is finding my mom's dead body in the basement. She committed suicide. Of course the darkness of her husband's death was eating her up and the frustration of taking care of a girl child was getting into her.

Darshan's dad was in the same department as my dad and that's why, he took me in after the death of my parents. That's when I met Darshan, on a windy, winter morning, sad and lost. But, he looked at me once or twice, came forward and with a toothy smile, accepted me in an instant. And, that's to me, my third, precious memory.

With time, he forgot about it. I don't know why. I don't know when. But, he forgot. And somewhere, it upsets me. The memory that shone like a ray of hope for me, became a buried vision for him.”, I sigh out loud.

His expressions are solemn. He doesn't appear shocked.

“But, aren't you twenty seven?”, he asks calmly.

“That's something he believes in. It's only him and his friends that believe that I am two years older than him”, I reply.

“But, the school records —”, he began again, “I was smart enough to skip two classes and still do just fine”, I smile at him.

He lets out a shaky breath.

Silence follows.

The breeze between us speaks.

“I thought I was your Romeo”, he mutters.

I keep my hand above his knuckles.

“Yeah, you are. But, Romeo and Juliet are supposed to be distant lovers”, I reply.

“Then what's Darshan in this story?”, he asks me.

“If you ask who he is in my story, I will simply say, I wanted him to be my prince Charming. I wanted him to find me and make me the Cinderella of the story. But, that never happened. The prince got his own harem of girls.”, I explain.

“So, who kills who in this version of Romeo and Juliet?”, he asks again.

“Isn't this a story of love? And where love follows, blood shan't be shred”, I quote in the air.

“Do we have a chance?”, he asks me.

“I don't know. If that happened, this story of Romeo and Juliet will change into a fairy tale”, I reply.

Silence follows.

The breeze whispers something.

“Now I know why accomplished love stories of fairy tale are for children but the unrequited love tales are for adults”, he says and a small smile is on his face.

I motion him to continue.

“It's better to have the kids enjoy the fulfilling feeling of having all the dreams accomplish. But, as adults, we know, not everything is made according to us. Some things fall hither and thither. What we want, may not be within our reach... Because kids can't understand the feeling of heartbreak. Because they are innocent”, he says.

I get up from my bench.

I smile, not knowing why.

“I need to go now... ”, I say and he doesn't try to stop me.

Darshan is such a kid.

And that makes me the adult of this story.

And that makes Hardik the adult of this story too.

After all I am, The Juliet in disguise of the Cinderella.