Second Chance at Love by Ruchita Misra

Author:Ruchita Misra
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: null
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

That afternoon Adi met Bindiya for lunch. He could feel his heart thump in his chest as she walked in. After all these years, he had finally decided to tell her everything, get it off his chest. He hoped that even if Bindiya said no, their bond was strong enough to ensure that their friendship remained the way it was. Their friendship, so precious to him, had been the main reason Adi had never brought this up, never sure what was going on in Bindiya’s mind. And then in front of his eyes Rehan had happened. Adi had never liked him and had hated seeing Bindiya look so unhappy with him. She hit her lowest when she broke up with him. Adi had a strong feeling that Rehan had treated Bindiya terribly, but Bindiya had never shared with him what had really happened. In a way, that worked with him; he was better off being ignorant of the exact details, scared of what he would do to Rehan if he found out.

Now finally, Bindiya seemed to be in a better place. She smiled often and had a healthy glow about her. It was, Adi knew, time for him to come clean.

‘He came after me,’ Bindiya said, even before she said hello, ‘straight into the ladies’!’

‘Eh?’

‘Samar!’

And Adi breathed deep. For the next twenty minutes Bindiya talked non-stop about Samar and with each passing second Adi felt his heart sink further. ‘Do you like him, Bindiya?’ he heard himself ask. How had he been so blind?

‘What … erm … no … I mean, you know … he’s Samar Chauhan, the Samar Chauhan. He’s on magazine covers, Adi, television channels interview him and he breakfasts with politicians, like, every day … why would he ever be interested in me?’

‘That was not my question, Bee,’ said Adi calmly. ‘Do you like Samar?’

‘Shut up!’ she yelped and threw her napkin at him. Bindiya had not answered Adi’s question in words but he did not need them any more. The deep blush on her face told him, plainly and clearly, all he needed to know.

‘You wanted to talk about something verrrrryyyy important?’ Bindiya asked, teasing, desperate to change the topic.

‘Yeah …’ he said and paused, and then continued, ‘my job, Bee, I think I should start applying elsewhere …’

For the next one hour Bindiya and her friend of two decades spoke at length first about Adi’s job and then again about Samar. A lot about Samar.

Before they bid goodbye Adi looked silently at the animated girl in front of him. It hurts, you know, to know that you’ll never look at me the way I look at you. Should I be happy that you are my friend? Or mourn that you’ll never be anything more?

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