Chapter Twenty-seven

Riyaan woke up with a warm, or rather hot body, and felt equally cold inside. From the comforters around him, he can tell he ended up sleeping in Ivan's bed last night. The temperature in the room is quite low, and the rain is making the sky quite dark.

He slightly turns to the other side, desperately muttering silent wishes to find Ivan. But the bed is empty on his side, and Riyaan has never been so disappointed.

After breakfast, and then he cried some more — considering he was too tired and sleepy last night to complete the session.

Then he does what he is supposed to do — what is expected of him — by him. Run to his temporary room to pack the rest of his things — one by one. He doesn't care which goes where.

When he takes his phone next time in his hands, he finds a text from Ivan.

Ivan: Sorry. I might be home late today. I had to leave before you woke up.

Somehow, Riyaan knows that's not the whole truth. Especially about leaving home early — he is running. Ivan has been to work on Sundays before but never so busy on Sundays. But that's fine.

*             *           *

He's not going to chase anymore.

Torn between his assignments and thinking of the night before, Riyaan finds himself to be extremely tired.

Baby, sweetheart — those were the endearments Ivan used. Yet he couldn't even say bye to him in the morning, no kisses, no calls.

And then there's what Kris said. Ivan basically wants to get rid of him.

But he also promised that he will fix everything, was that just to stop him sobbing? That's hardly Ivan. He wouldn't lie about that.

10 past 10, Ivan isn't home. He grows impatient with every minute — not to mention the debate revisited him with a new concern now — is Ivan alright? How late is late?

At 11, he hears the garage door, and the way his heart reacts, he finds it rather embarrassing.

‘Are you okay?’ Riyaan cannot not ask.

‘Yes.’ Voice lazy, rough and deep.

Is he drunk?

Ivan doesn't wait for anything else, and walks straight to his room. Pulling his clothes out with lazy hands. If he is drunk, Kris and Preet must have been with him too. So he texts Kris.

Riyaan: Is Ivan okay? He seemed drunk and it's late.

About 30 seconds later, the group  receives a message from Jai.

Jai? When did Jai join the group chat?

Jai: Did you reach safely at least? Unblock me, please. I'm sorry.

On personal chat.

Kris: He should be, I don't think he was drinking. I mean we were drinking and Ivan and Jai had a little sad and messy reunion. That's it.

Riyaan: Messy?

Messy, what does it mean?

On group chat.

Kris: Did he really block you for such a silly reason? What a baby!

Then there are messages from Jai, Preet, Kris, Ivan and some other guys on the chat. He doesn't even want to know what he has written because everything is making his ears go from warm to hot and his face burning.

There's no way he is going to get upset over how Kris is teasing Ivan, after telling him to leave Ivan because he keeps hurting Riyaan. There's no way, he is teasing Ivan about Jai, and sat there with them, while Ivan and Jai had some kind of reunion party. There's no way, Ivan didn't come home to him right away after work. No way, after promising him to make things alright he didn't come home to see if he's alright.

There's no way…he is crying, again.

Ivan who didn't have time to properly greet him before going to sleep, who seemed so tired, now finds time and determination to write on the chat which he rarely does.

Riyaan suddenly felt very stupid for not leaving today. Ivan would probably have not even realised until another day. Would he? And it probably wouldn't even have mattered so much.

If Riyaan didn't feel so hurt and abandoned, he would probably have made an attempt to join the conversation. If he didn't know Jai is the guy that Ivan sees the way he sees Ivan. And Riyaan wonders, if Ivan did have something for him, but to his lover, he would say how no other person has mattered to him like Jai does. Riyaan has no idea which is more painful — not mattering at all to Ivan or mattering, but not enough.

Riyaan cannot be mad at them all but Kris knows that he harbours feelings for Ivan. So does Ivan. It feels as though they have all been mocking him, and yet neither of them seem to be talking about him. Why would they? He probably doesn't even remember or realise that he is on the chat too.

*             *              *

For most part of the night, Riyaan stayed up thinking of ways to say bye. His most preferred way is to write a note, and leave. Because he doesn't know how to say goodbye either. But a more cryptic part of him is scared if he waits until Ivan arrives, he might never be able to leave, and hopes that Ivan is going to keep that promise.

‘Do you want me to order breakfast for you?’ Already ready for work, Ivan asks before leaving. There's nothing in his voice that makes him smile or stay hopeful.

‘No. Thanks.’

‘I’ll try to be home soon today,’ Ivan says. Riyaan feels his gaze over him, even though he is not looking at Ivan. His focus is rather on the piece of bread on his plate. He is hungry, yet, if he takes any of that last breakfast in this house in his mouth, it's as if he's going to puke.

‘Good.’

‘Bye, see you soon?’

Never has Ivan said his goodbyes to him so patiently before going to work. Riyaan is almost annoyed. But it's probably the last, so he gets up and loosely hugs Ivan. What he didn't expect is for Ivan to hug him back, affectionately.

But Riyaan is not going to change his mind just for that hug — no matter how much it is trying to restore his hope and that maybe, just maybe he should stay.

He ends up putting up a note in the refrigerator, that's where Ivan will go for the water bottle right after he enters home.

*             *               *

For at least a few days, he has to stay with Plasi's cousin. Not an idea that excites him, but he has experience with shared spaces. But thankfully, he won't be at his place for his work. That means Riyaan has the place to himself.

And then the guilt hits him, lying on the bed at some random place. Should he have waited? Does it really matter?

He is lightly dozing off when his phone rings in his pocket. It can't be Ivan because it's 3 pm, and Ivan's barely ever home before 7 pm. But when he looks at the screen, he finds it is indeed, him.

Sooner or later, he is going to have to talk to him anyway. So why not now?

‘Yes?’

‘Are you at work?’

‘No.’

‘Okay, good. I am…at your favourite food place, I'm buying dinner, what do you want?’

Right.

So, he hasn't seen it yet. Should he tell him now, it's not like it's a spoiler.

‘I don't want dinner.’ Riyaan immediately cringes after his response. For some reason, he is not ready for Ivan to find out yet. Maybe he will be ready after 15 minutes, when he will be forced to.

‘Alright.’

Is that a disappointing voice? Too late.

After what he has already expected to be 20 minutes, his phone rings again. This is a call he is not prepared to take but he knows what it's about. He contemplates a response as he looks at the flashing on his screen and meanwhile, he receives a text with a picture of a note that he left. Less than half of the letters are not in the picture.

Ivan: What's this?

The note he left says: I don't know how to say goodbye either but this is it.

He finally takes the call.

‘Care to explain?’

‘That’s a bye …from me.’

‘Still don't understand?’

‘What’s there to understand?’

‘You tell me.’

‘You think after all this, I can live with you? You don't want me there Ivan. Your boyfriend is coming there, why would I stay?’

‘And you couldn't tell me this face to face?’

Like, he could!

‘You couldn't tell me to leave either!’ he almost yells through gritted teeth.

‘I didn't want you gone.’

Through the call, he hears some noise — that's probably a refrigerator door closing, rather loudly. ‘Where are you?’

‘In a place, I rented.’

‘Where?’ Ivan presses.

‘Can’t tell you that?’ He is not ready to just go because Ivan will come to take him — if he does, it's mostly because

‘I am coming to get you, tell me.’

‘No.’

‘Riyaan…,’ Ivan says with a voice so soft, and affectionate that it almost makes him want to beg Ivan to come and get him.

‘Yes.’

‘Can I please come and get you?’

‘No.’

‘I didn't expect yesterday to be that busy. I'm sorry.’

‘I don't care.’

‘Listen, I would really like it if you came back. I will pick you up, but if you don't want to, there's nothing I can do.’

That's a lie. Riyaan knows he can do things to make him come back. In fact, he is already doing it — just not hard enough. Because Riyaan is not enough for him.

‘I wouldn't worry too much. Since you will not be alone at home anyway. You will have someone to share your big house with.’

‘Are you done?’ There's certainly an annoyance in his voice.

That's all he manages to say? He's probably never going to see Riyaan or talk to him again, this is all he manages to say? What kind of cruel bastard is he?

‘I am done.’ His voice cracks by the end, thankfully Ivan wouldn't notice because he disconnects the call fast enough.

*              *             *

‘Hey, how's your health now, forgot to ask before?’ Plasi asks, meeting him outside their workplace as they are about to leave for the day.

‘I’m fine now. Thanks.’

‘Want to go for a smoke?’

‘You know I don't smoke,’ Riyaan throws an annoyed look at Plasi, who is looking at the opposite side of the path.

‘I think you have a friend to meet,’ he gestures towards the other side of the road.

Ivan is standing by his car, hands in his pockets and sunglasses on. When Riyaan lands his eyes on him, he waves to him. Somehow Riyaan's hand doesn't find it desperate to wave back.

Last night, he dozed off trying to comfort himself,

He takes out his phone to see if he called before, but there's no missed call. What is he doing here?

For a moment, Riyaan thinks of walking away, pretending to not see him. But then there's Plasi, and then there's Ivan, who is crossing the road.

‘Hey,’ he says, carefully getting his shades off.

‘Are you stalking me?’

He curses his mouth, because that's not what he meant to say.

‘I’m what? I know your workplace, it's not stalking.’

‘Whatever.’

‘Can I drop you?’

‘No,’ he says, looking at everyone and everywhere except Ivan. He keeps on hurting him, without fixing one, promises that he didn't keep. ‘What are you doing here, Ivan?’

‘So, you want to talk here, in front of people?’

‘Who says I want to talk to you?’

‘Why? Exactly what have I done to you that you suddenly hate me so much? You escaped from the house like I was holding you hostage.’

Is that what he thinks? That Riyaan hates him? All those hints, affections, and literal flirting wasn't enough for him? Was he even paying attention?

‘Hello, I'm talking to you.’

‘And I'm not.’ It's time to leave, no matter how handsome Ivan looks today. How dare he! Can't he look a little heartbroken, sad faced, messy hair — for once?

‘Okay, let me drop you at least.’

For a moment, he thinks of resisting. But what's the point of resisting, it's just a drive.