We Have A Number Four!

“ When I called, he said you were off to see one of your students,” Adhi tells me, running his hand through his hair.

I smile as I think of Shreyas explaining my sudden need to meet a student. “ I had to tell him something. If I’d told him I was off to see you, he’d make me take him along. I dropped him off at Chit’s place.”

Adhi ambles toward me and swoops me into his strong arms. His eyes were so warm, so dreamy, I could just melt into the corners of his irises and just spend the rest of my life there, seeing the world as he did, loving as he saw fit.

And he loved me, I grinned inwardly. And he loved the kids. We are his, and his only.

“ I missed you,” Adhi whispers, as if the walls were listening to us. I’ve not seen him since I… since I shamelessly came over to his and spent the night here. It’s been 2 months.  “ Why did you cut me off?”

I shrug. “ I was ashamed.”

Adhi pulled his head back in shock. “ Ashamed of what? Of sleeping with me?”

I shake my head quickly. “ No, Baba! No, of course not!”

“ Then what?”

“ I was ashamed for using you…” I tell him, pouting. “ At least, that was how it felt like.”

“ For two months?” Adhi looks at me incredulously.

“ You were back to India for a month, Adhi,” I reminded him. “ So technically…”

“…Its only been 4 shameful weeks,” Adhi laughed. “ You’re good, Sejal Patel.”

I release him and do a curtsey. “ Thank you.”

He holds my hand and guides me to the sofa. Once I sit, he put his arms around me protectively and sighs into the side of my head, smelling in my hair, not wanting to let go. “ I missed you,” he says again.

I sigh too, content of being in his arms, and yes, I smelled him too. It was just our thing. Long ago, every time we took our bath, we’d stand with our bathrobes and just smell each other. I know it sounds weird and uncanny, but it was our thing. I’d smell his neck, and he’d take in my hair. My arms would be folded onto his chest and he would be giving me the biggest bear hug ever. I smile at those memories, and my eye hurt from the tears that are forming. Quickly, I blink rapidly, blocking those tears away. “ Believe it or not, I missed you too. I was secretly hoping you won’t bring any helpless Indian women home.”

He laughs his contagious laugh. “ You’re the only one, Sejal. Now, always, and…” he lets it go.

I pick it up. “ Forever.”

I feel a bit of fear ebb its way into my heart. I have to tell him, I think to myself. He has every right to know. He has every right to know because it was his. It was ours, it was our number four. I smile inspite of myself.

“ What is it?” Adhi breaks me from my thoughts.

I take in some air and close my eyes. Here goes, I think. “ We-have-a-number-four!” I blurt out in one go, looking straight ahead.

There is silence. I sneak a peek at him by opening my eyes a millimeter wide, and glance sideways. He is looking in front as well. But then—but then— He is…he is… slowly smiling! Wide eyed, and…SMILING!

I open my eyes wider, and look at him. He leans forward, gives me his sexy smile and kiss me, kiss me with his thick lips, and holds me so close I feel well safe. “ We have a number four,” he whispers. “ We have a number four!”

He gets up, as if sitting down doesn’t do any justice to his excitement. “ Who have you told?”

I shrug, laughing. “ Only Avantika…”

“ And you’ve gone for a Doctor’s appointment?”

I nod. “ 2 months, Baba. And…I’ve checked names as well. For a boy, Smyan, which means—”

“ Smile,” Adhi positively beams.

“ Smile,” I say happily. “ And Aasha if it’s a girl,” I add.

“ Hope,” Adhi claps his hand, and reaches out his hands to me. I take them and he pulls me again for yet another hug. He kisses my forehead. “ Perfect, baby.”

“ We’re doing this again, aren’t we!” I giggle as he laugh with me, all the time holding on to me for dear life. Like he never let go, like that Dipika girl never happened, like my ignoring him was almost a dream. We’re doing it again, I grin into his chest.

“ I told you baby,” he picks my chin up and directs my face toward him. “ I told you. With us, whether or not there is acceptance, fights, ignorance, other relationships,” He clears his throats meaningfully with a slight raise of his eyebrow. “ Whatever happens, with us, it is a now, always and forever. ALWAYS.”

A tear rolls down my left eye and on automatic pilot he wipes it away. I bite my lower lip. “ Only you, Baba. Only with you it’s a now, always and forever.”

Ma, do you know everything about Dad?

“ Ma, do you know everything about Dad?”

I look at Shreyas through my review mirror. I was sending the kids to school, and it was such a crisp, beautiful, un-blue Monday morning. “ What do you mean?”

Shreyas shrugs, his little eyes on his little Enid Blyton’s Famous Five series. “ Fardeen told me his Mum and Dad had a big quarrel last night and that she was crying about how little his Dad knew about her and the family. So…I just wondered.”

Fardeen Khanna was Shreyas’ best mate, and his parents, sadly, have been having these “big quarrels” for some time now. I shuddered, remembering how it felt like when my Mum and Dad would have those “big quarrels”, and I absolutely hated that miserable fear that accompanied them. That is also why I made Adhi promise that if we do need to fight or quarrel or even squabble, we do it privately, never, NEVER in front of the children.

Shreyas is now looking at me, all book reading abandoned. He looks expectant, almost sad.

“ Bhaiya, I think I know all there is about your Dad,” I tell my son happily. Because he is, after all, the love of my life, I add silently, smiling to myself.

“ Okay. What’s Dad’s favourite color?” Shreyas asks me, as if to be sure, admist the giggling of Avantika as Sachveer, who was sat in front with me, make silly faces at her.

I turn a sharp corner and my sons make the “ooooh” sound as they almost fall sideways.  “ Blue.”

Shreyas nods his head. “ His favourite song to play for you?”

Oh I know this one! “ Love of my Life by Queen. He always plays that for me,” I chuckle softly, blushing.

Sachveer does vomiting gags. He must’ve been listening in, this naughty lad. “ Ma! That’s well too much information!” He wails, disgusted. “ Yuuuck!”

I mess up his hair. “ That is so not too much information. Too much information would mean me telling you boys how you were born,” I say. “ And—”

“ MA!” Sachveer and Shreyas screams at the same time.  

“ All right! All right!” I laugh, stopping at a traffic light junction. “ Don’t frighten your sister.”

“ She’s asleep,” Shreyas reports. I look over at my daughter, and yes she’s suddenly fast asleep, that beautiful kid. She has my eyes you know, Avantika, and my cheekbones and my mouth, and my thick hair, and eyebrows, but she’s got her Dad’s skin. So beautiful, I smile as I tuck her in properly before pulling the car into drive again.

Sachveer puts his hands up. “ I’ve got one! Who’s Dad’s favourite footie team?”

I narrow my eyes.  “ Worst team in the world.”

Sachveer folds his arms across his chest. He, like his Dad, was an ardent United fan. Luckily Shreyas was a son after my own heart, my Liverpool. “ We’re at the top of the table, how could we possibly be the worst—”

“ Whatever,” Shreyas rolls his eyes.

Sachveer unleashes his seatbelt and reaches behind to—

“ Enough boys,” One hand is pulling Sachveer back to his seat while the other is steering the wheel, and I am sighing. These United fans, I shake my head, Cocky and bloody arrogant.  

“ They’ve won more League cups, Bhaiya, and—” Sachveer is boasting. He really is his Dad’s son, I roll my eyes.

“ My love, of course we know that,” I groan. “ No more footie talk, cheers muchly. Another question?”  

Sachveer and Shreyas both look like they were pondering on the biggest question of their lives. And they both had that same frown Adhi has, the one that gets their thick eyebrows knitted together, and their noses crunched just a little, and their bottom lip bitten.  

Sachveer is first. “ Dad’s favourite film and character?”

“ The Godfather series, Mikey Corleone,” I wave them away. “ Well easy.”

Shreyas chuckles softly, glancing at his sister, who was asleep. “ Most favourite possession?”

I look at Shreyas boldly. “ Us, of course.”

Shreyas scratches his forehead. “ I mean, yeah, but you know…something Dad can’t live without, something…his favourite thing…”

I pout sulkily. “ What are you on about, of course we are his—oh! You mean his guitars!”

Shreyas punches the air. “ What doesn’t Dad like to eat at all?”

“ SARDINE!”  I laugh as my sons make revolted faces. I love sardine, and these three men of mine don’t. They don’t know what they’re missing!

“ I’ve another one,” Sachveer ventures. “ This might prove difficult. I urge you to consider your question before answering,” he says seriously.

“ This isn’t Who Want To Be A Millionaire, Veer,” Shreyas tells him impatiently. “ Go on. Quick.”

“ What is Dad’s most favourite book?” He smirks.

I smirk back. “ None,” I say confidently, pulling into the drop off zone. “ He never reads, that guitar playing, football kicking, family loving, love of my life.”

That, I would just like to say, was my little joke with my sons; we always tease my Adhi baba about how the boys inherited their intelligence genes from only me, and how their Dad would call me his Tutor Girl, because just like Nathan Scott from Tree Hill, he was the popular sexy star, and I, just like Hayley Scott, was the nerd he fell in love with.

My sons clap their hands cheerfully. “ Well done Ma! You do know Dad!” Shreyas exclaims. Avantika opens her eyes reluctantly, and then closes them again, comfortable in her nap.

I look at the both of them as they smooth out their shirts, and (just like their Dad), adjust their hair to perfection and pull out their sunglasses, ready to leave the car. “ I do indeed. ”

A Photo of Saif and Sharmila (via Saif Ali Khan Online)

via Saif Ali Khan Online

More photos from the shooting of Agent Vinod (via Saif Ali Khan Online)

    … Read More

via Saif Ali Khan Online

The Love

Every day when I wake up, I think of you, and whether you’re awake and whether you’re getting ready for class. Half of the time, I shake my head and smile, my sleepy head’s surely still asleep. And as I get ready, I think whether you will like me in what I wear, whether you will think I look weird, or whether it will go well with your taste. As I straighten my fringe and hair in the morning, I think about how you like to play with my hair and recently how you said you liked my fringe and it always make me grin into the mirror. When Chit comes a-calling, or when I go over to her’s, the first topic will always be, So, how’s Baba? Yes, even my best friends have taken to calling you Baba! Ha-ha! But yes, sometimes its anger, sometimes, its hurt, but most of the time its love, and how much I love you, and how much you love me. When I get to work, its emails if I have no class. And even in emails, I am talking about you to Bee Choo. If I have a class, I would go to the pantry and pray, and after praying for my class, surely there’d be a time where I mention your name and I bet somewhere up there, God’s going, Not him again. He doesn’t even come for mass, little one! Ha! Ha! Ha! All through class I think of you, and just to mention your name, I have exercises with your name on my sheet, and every time there is a break I check my mobile, hoping there is an I Love You from you, and guess what, half of the time, there is! As I go home at the end of the day, you call me and that already makes me grin and Chit would roll her eyes, smiling. And we speak about the darnest things and when we put down the phone as you drive into your car park, I cannot wait when night time comes and you call me again. As I do my work or play with Kingston or speak to my mates or watch the telly, I will suddenly remember that I am someone’s girlfriend, and my whole being is exploding in happiness, because then I remember that I belong to you. When you sleep on me at night, it is a bit painful, but when you call, I love that sexy voice. When we end up laughing, I love every minute of it. I savour every minute of it, I want every minute of it. When we end up fighting, I hope all the time you call back but when you don’t, I cry myself to sleep. But that’s OK, because somehow, somewhere inside of me, I know you’ll come back, or I’ll go to you. I know we’ll be OK. I know we will.

I remember that email that Bee Choo had sent me once, about how two people is different in each relationship and how with God’s love, that relationship would work. I remember thinking how true it was for us, and how accurate it is that we’re so different yet we love. I remember how Teena once said about at least one person in our relationship should be the joker, because it melts the anger and creates laughter and I think how lovely it is that you are that person, and I am that angry one. And then I feel sorry, and then I think how can I hurt you so much, and then I think, I need to stop this. And I try, but I fail. But I am still trying. I am, really. And I know you are, and I know you’re changing. And I know still, I give you a hard time.

I love you, and you must know that you’re the Love of My Life, and one day, when it is time to say goodbye, my heart is going to pain, and I don’t know how I’d be without you. But for now, for everything good and everything love and everything perfect, I am so in love with you. So in love with you. I want you to know that. I hope you know that.

Baba, I love you I love you I love you.

Nobody knows.

“ Hey, Sejal,” Farra calls me as I enter my room. My cousin looks at me guiltily. Hmmm, I grin, she must’ve taken my shirt and spoilt it or something. What was it that she borrowed from me last?

                “ Which shirt?” I smirk, waving her in.

                She shakes her head, looking like she’d rather be anywhere than here talking to me, or perhaps…I wonder if she is trying to tell me something. She is twiddling her fingers, walking in, but her eyes are darting to my room door, like she just wants to run away and wondering how to.

                “ What is it, Fars?” I smile, trying to encourage her, prompt her. “ What is it?”

                She takes a deep breath. “ You’re with Adhi, aren’t you?”

                My eyebrows arch. “ Yes. I am.”

                “ Okay,” She nods, bobbing her head too much. “ Okay.”

                My butterflies have arrived. “ Fars, what is it?”

                She shrugs, fiddling her collar shirt. “ Before I say anything I just want to tell you that I didn’t mean to stumble on this piece of—”

                I put a hand on her shoulder. “ Baby girl, just tell me.”

                “ I was out with Gauri and Jas yesterday, and Jas mentioned about how her cousin Latha always gets all the boys…” she gulps.

                I am quiet. Where have I heard that name before?

                “ And then she mentioned Adhi’s name,” Farra said in a rush.

                “ Are you sure they didn’t—”

                “ I asked his full name,” Farra cuts across me. “ Adhi Sharma. From St Anthony’s, plays for The Land. That Adhi,” she tells me softly. “ Sejal, your Adhi.”

                I feel like a wave of nausea come up within me. My heart is pained, and my air ducts are blocked and I feel so hot on my face. I feel so embarrassed. “ What do you mean?”

                Farra looked as pained as I was. “ Jas doesn’t like Latha, and she was saying how Latha liked to brag so much about the boys in her life, and the one person that she mentioned was Adhi Sharma and how…how…how…in love he was with her…”

                My eyes water and I don’t know where to run, what to do, who to shout at. Who the bloody hell is this Latha, when Adhi’s told me, assured me, constantly sang to me, how I was the love of his life. Who the bloody hell is Latha?

                Farra holds on to my hand. “ Sejal, don’t cry. Latha might just be bragging.”

                I give her a small smile. “ I am OK, my love, don’t worry. Thanks for telling me.”

                Farra is unconvinced. “ Sejal…”

                I squeeze this little cousin of mine. “ Thanks. I love you.”

                She nods slowly, after a few minutes, and walks out of my room, closing the door behind her.

                I sit on my bed. My heart is beating very fast, and I really don’t know what to do. I am honestly at a loss. But what can I do? I think. He is entitled to make friends, be friends, and even…I mean…I don’t know…is he entitled to think other girls are hot and go after them while having a girlfriend? No, he isn’t! I scream inside. No he bloody well isn’t!

                Sigh. It isn’t even Latha’s fault to begin with. She doesn’t even know I exist, I think sadly. Adhi doesn’t tell his friends, Adhi doesn’t tell the girls in his life that he is with me, that he is taken; Adhi just doesn’t want anyone to know. So really, can other girls know to back off? Right?

                Right.  I hold my heart, to calm it, to stop it beating well fast. It’s OK, I sooth myself. He says I’m the love of his life, which should be good enough. Right?

                Right. I think.

His Future and His Number One

He runs his thin fingers through his hair, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes read his Law notes diligently. He licks his lips as he writes little notes at the edge of his already untidy sets of papers. He had this habit, this love of my life, when he scribbles all his thoughts and little remarks all over one piece of paper and even if the paper is well filled to the brim to mere mortals such as us, to Adhi, the littlest of space can surely be found. I giggle softly.

                He turns and looks at me, his eyebrows still furrowed. “ What are you giggling about?”

                I shrug, returning to Artemis. “ Nothing.”

                He glares at me, and then continues furrowing at his notes.

                My eyes cannot—for some reason—stay on Artemis. They are drawn to my lovely boyfriend studying. I watch as he scratches the top of his head, and slides his pencil in the space behind the top of his right ear. Of course, I grin, boys and books…books and boys, the ideal way to Sejal Patel’s heart. Adhi leans back on his chair and examines his notes. His chest goes up and down…up and down…as he tries to grasp the observations that had been written.

                And as he looks intently at his notes, my heart is feeling a bit squirmy and…a bit lustful, and you know, it has been two weeks since we’ve had sex, and two weeks since his exams had started and how much preoccupied he has been. I understand, to be honest, and I would never ask him to choose between his future and me, and whenever any one of our mutual friends complain about this, Adhi would look at me and go, “ You don’t have to ask me to choose, baby, because you are my future.” I normally roll my eyes at this, but secretly I am pleased every time he says that even though I know he is just being well cheeky.

               Anyway. Tonight I feel like I miss him. So I bookmark my page and set the book on the nightstand and amble towards him. He starts as my arms go around him from behind and I kiss the side of his face, a long, lingering one. My lips prick at the short beard that is growing around his sideburns and mouth.

               He lets his notes fall on his desk and laces my fingers with his, grinning. “ Sejal Patel…I have to be studying.”

               “ I know Baba,” I coo, and proceed to kiss him some more. “ But I just felt like I wanted to … kiss you. And besides, you look so sexy with your books around,” I whisper.

               He lets out a small chuckle. He savours the smooch I am planting near his mouth, teasing him. His hands go up to my shoulders and bring me to the front and sit me on him. He pushes my hair to the back and as he holds on to my head, he kisses me with such fervour, such passion, I forgot how much sexy my boyfriend can be. My left hand travel to the front of his zipper, but he holds it, stopping me, and then looks at his notes on the desk.

               I smile, getting up from his lap and kneeling down in front of him. I gently move his hand away and I find his zipper again..and…caress. Mmm. “ I just want to de-stress you, Baba. Five minutes, I promise.”

               He closes his eyes, leans back on his chair and as I unzip his beach pants, he has a content look on his face and I bring his…anyway, as I am enjoying the sensation of doing what I loved doing to him, with him, he touches my face. “ Get on the bed, Sejal.”

               I laugh. “ But Baba…I was only thinking of five minutes,” I say, trying for the innocent look, although getting on the bed and everything that comes afterwards is exactly what I had wanted.

              He narrows his eyes at me, standing up. “ Get on the bed.”

              I do as I am told, and I watch as he takes off his beach pants and t-shirt and I catch my breath as he gets on the bed with his well toned body. I get on my knees, put my arms around his neck, and welcome him with a kiss. He doesn’t waste any time and takes off my pajama shirt and…

              We make love, simple, kissing and hugging and entwined with each other. Bliss, I sigh as he kisses me repeatedly, and touches me everywhere…When we are done, he doesn’t move from above me, but continues to look at me tenderly, sweat dripping from his forehead. “ Thank you.”

              I shrug. “ I missed it too, Baba.”

              “ I know,” he nods. “ I’m sorry for being such a jerk these past few weeks—studying and I just forget you are there.”

              “ You don’t have to be sorry,” I tell him. “ Your papers are well important.”

              “ And you aren’t?”

              “ ‘Course I am,” I tell him, smirking. “ In fact, I’ve said this before, Baba, the love of your life should come in third after God and your family.”

              He looks as if he was about to say something but thinks the better of it. He knows better than to argue with me about God and family being numbers one and two. I know this because we have had this little argument ever since forever; he would say God and his family is secondary to me and I would tell him otherwise and am adamant again and again that I am right. And anyways, I am the girlfriend, and I have period at least 5 days each month, and I might one day have to go through labor and have his children, so he loses his argument before it begins—not a good characteristic for a future lawyer at all. Ha, ha. He chuckles as if he knows what I’m thinking.

             I push him off me. “ All right Baba, off you go studying then.”

             He gets comfortable on his side of the bed, pulling me close, laying me down on his chest. “ Not tonight. Tonight I am just wanting  to have the love of my life in my arms.”

             “ No, I don’t think—”

             “ I am prepared enough, I know. I just want tonight with you, baby. Tonight you’re my number one. I insist,” he adds quickly before I continue to protest. “ You’re number one.”

             And just like how I love it when he says I am his future, secretly, sneakily, with adoration and affection in my heart,  I absolutely love it whenever he says—insists— that I am his number one, not God, not his family. Me.

             Ha.

Heartbreak.

You think you know what heartbreak is just because he didn’t look at you today?

You think you know what heartbreak is just because he didn’t call you to his party?

You think you know what heartbreak is just because he didn’t say hi?

You think you know what heartbreak is just because he didn’t think to get you a gift for your Birthday?

No.

Heartbreak is when you know you have found the Love of Your Life, and yet, you lose him, and every day since then, you cry and you hurt and you pain, and you learn to never give your heart again, lest Heartbreak happens again, and you’re in the losing end….always…all over again.



Unreachable Tupperwares

       ” I’ve got something to talk to you about,” Adhi tells me.
       I tiptoe and my hand is outstretched to get the Tupperware from the top kitchen shelf. I don’t get myself, why do I have this same habit as my Mum–when we always end up putting our Tupperwares on the top shelf of our kitchen cabinets–WHEN WE WERE WELL VERTICALLY CHALLENGED! Urgh. I give my boyfriend a pleading look and he, in turn, gives me a cheeky smirk. He doesn’t even have to tiptoe. He grabs the Tupperware I want, and gives it to me, and as a bonus, gives me long, long, long, long kiss.
       ” Thank you,” I lick my lips.
       ” My pleasure,” Adhi smiles. He puts his hands in his pockets, and I know that gesture–that’s classic Adhi gesture, that’s his I’ll-put-my-hands-in-my-jeans-pockets-when-I’m-nervous-gesture. Didn’t he just say that he needed to talk to me? Oh, God.
       ” What is it, Baba?” I put the Tupperware down and slide my arms around his waist.
        He pulls me closer to him and sighs. He is silent for a while, just looking at me. I wriggle my eyebrows at him, and he smiles that smile that makes me smile and cry at the same time. “ Remember the scholarship to England that I didn’t get?”
       I nod slowly.
       “ Dad’s told me last night he still wants me…” he sighs again. “ He still wants me to go, so he’s paying…he’s paying for everything.”
       I feel a dagger through my heart and on automatic pilot, my eyes are sprung with tears and my mouth is staggered downwards, ready for a good cry. But I steady myself. He needs to know this is OK, that we’ll be OK. I lean forward and kiss him a small kiss on his lips. “ I am well glad for you.”
       He raises his eyebrows. “ Really, Sejal?”
       I nod.
       He raises his eyebrows again.
       I give him a whack on his chest and lie down on it. “ Stop doing that. You’re making me cry.”
       He hugs me tighter. “ I don’t know if I can.”
       My tears are flowing freely, thank you very much. “ You’ll be fine. It’s amazing, England is.” Honestly, I mean it, England is amazing, and I know, I KNOW he will enjoy it so much and he’d do well there and make loads of friends, and probably forget about his rock music and start loving the indie bands there and—
       “ And you?” He asks, his voice muffled by my hair. “ How would I live without you? How am I going to be without you?”
        I let out a small chuckle, looking up at him.  “ There is so much to do in England—I mean, I know the weather sucks, but you’ll love it—and you’d make friends and the girls, Baba,” I stop for a while, swallowing my words. “ The girls will make you forget that you need me.”
       He wipes my tears away. “ Yeah?”
       ” Yeah.”
       Hie eyes are unbelieving. ” And when I catch a Queen tribute live?” He asks, biting his lower lip. “ And when I visit Liverpool? When I pass by Bristol on the way to Bath and visit Kayleigh or Amanda or Sandy? Or when I watch…what was that show you loved while you were there…?”
       I smile admist my tears. “ Hollyoaks.”
       “ Yeah,” he continues. “ Hollyoaks. When I watch Hollyoaks…and when I go to a bar to watch the footie, when United plays Liverpool and wins?” He chortles softly.
        I shove him playfully again.
       He squeezes me even more so. “ Everything about England will remind me of you, baby. Every damn thing. How am I going to be with you?” He asks me again. “ And how…how are you going to be without me?”
       “ Avantika,” I say quickly. “ She’ll help me get by…” I touch his face as if today was the day he was leaving and my tears are still falling. I feel like he is the tupperware in my top kitchen shelf, unreachable, every time. At first you know it will all be OK, that I will have him for me, I will always have him for me, and he’s always there, just within reach. Sigh. And then in a second, it will all have to go away, the wishes, the dreams, the everything. “ You have to do this, Baba. We’ll be OK, I promise. We have Skype, and you can always play your guitar for me and sing to me and we can still chat and keep in touch and just…we’ll be OK, I promise. Even if we can’t be together…” I let it hang.
       He pulls my hair back from my forehead and kisses my forehead. “ I will always be yours, and you will always be mine. Always. Forever.”
       I lie down on his chest again. “ Forever.”

I miss him

Page 47 of Artemis Fowl and the Eternity Code is opened on the table. I was at Coffee Bean, waiting for Her Royal Highness Avantika for our weekend coffee break. She’s already told me she’s going to be late, seeing as she’s had to send her sister to the airport today. I decided to go in at our usual time anyways, only because I needed my coffee!

                There is laughter at the counter, and I turn to investigate. I see a couple, a girl and a boy, probably in their mid-twenties, giggling amidst the hustle and bustle of the early morning queue for all them coffee addicts. The girl gently shoves her (presumably) boyfriend and he feigns pain that she then puts her hand on him and rubs the sore shoulder benignly. He holds her hand and pulls her close, not caring if anyone else is looking. He loves his girlfriend, and he wants everyone to know.

                “ Do you want some munchies?” Adhi had asked after we had gotten our Harry Potter tickets.

                I shrugged. “ Yeah. Why not?”

                We got the earliest movie, so it was only the both of us at the counter. Adhi made his order, and then turns towards me. “ What do you want baby?”

                I smile at the guy behind the counter, Ayman. “ Can I please get a packet of Cheezels?”

                Ayman nods. “ Yes. The biscuits?”

                I didn’t know Cheezels had their own biscuits as well, I think. “ No, thank you,” I say. “ Just the crisps, please.”

                “ The what?” Ayman asks.

                “ Cheezels’ crisps,” I say again. “ You know, the—“

                “ Keropok, bang,” Adhi cuts through me, in our native Malay. “ Dia nak keropok.” I look at Adhi and he rolls his eyes at me, smirking. “ Can you not be so English?” he tells me. “ Say ke-ro-pok.”

                I give him a glare, and push his away.

                Instead of moving away from me, he shamelessly pulls me close and smirks. “ I love you baby.”

                “ Ma’am,” someone calls me, jolting me awake from my happy thoughts.

                I look up and see a kid staring up at me. “ Yes love?”

                “ Please, can I have this chair?” she smiles at me sweetly. I nod as I help her with the chair, and her parents, in turn, nod a thank you to me. I smile at the little family, complete with another little baby boy, who was actually giving me his toothy grin.

                I was about to continue with Artemis, when suddenly the baby lets out a wail of crying and I turn to look and I see an old Uncle looking quite worried. I assume he would’ve tried to carry the little tyke, and the little boy must’ve gotten a bit frightened and well, what do babies do when they are frightened, they cry, just like my little godson Andreas. And I remember when he had met Adhi for the first time, and how he had cried and wailed and how his little lips trembled when Adhi had tried to play with him. I giggle softly by myself at that memory. Adhi had come to meet my little constant, and my little constant had not liked him one bit. Adhi had tried to make himself feel better by saying Andreas wasn’t used to the unknown, I had said it was because Andreas knew Adhi was going to hurt me one day. Adhi had kissed me then and told me not to be silly. I stop giggling. Adhi was wrong, Andreas was right.

                I hear a guitar strumming nearby and I see a young boy of 18 on the made-up stage in the coffee house. He was tuning his guitar, and I think he must’ve sensed me looking at him because he looked up and his eyes fell on me. He gave me a smile, and continued with his tuning.

                “ What song do you want today?” Adhi asked me through Skype.  He was tuning his guitar, on his bed, wearing his hair flat on his head (just the way I liked it) and smirking that sexy grin (just the way I want it). I remember watching him and feeling so happy that this boy was my love, my boyfriend, my heart.

                “ Today I want Backstreet Boys!” I chuckle, clapping my hands. “ Shape of My Heart!”

                He looks at me and shakes his head. “ Why do you do this to me?”

                “ Baba, please…” I beg him. “ I will love you forever…” I wink at him.

                He plays for me the song full length, and my heart is fit to burst because he really takes the trouble to google the chords, play it lovingly, and sings it to me even though he isn’t very sure about the tune.

                I feel a tear trickle my face, and I quickly wipe it dry. It  takes me a while to compose myself, but I do. He doesn’t want me, he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t love me. I cannot keep waiting for him, and I cannot trap him, I cannot ask him to just be with me when he doesn’t want to. That’s not fair, that’s not fair to him, nor is it to me. If he doesn’t feel the same, then…it’s his loss, and all the worse for me, because I will be losing the…

                “ Love of my life, can’t you see, bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me, because you don’t know what it means to me.…” Adhi sings to me. His eyes are closed, but he opens them a notch to look at me, to see if I’m buying his song, this song by Queen, which he says apparently is our song.

                I am smiling. He is smiling, too. He strums it to the scale of A Major and slowly stops. “ I love you.”

                I lean forward and kiss him softly, long, sweet. “  I love you too.”

                Another tear trickles down my face. I miss him, I think sadly. I miss him scolding me, I miss him singing to me, I miss him hanging out with the people I love. I miss him making me feel better, I miss him holding me, I miss him watching TV with me, I miss him shopping with me, I miss kissing me, I miss him with me.

              I miss him.