I woke up to the sound of a shrill bell. I blinked mercilessly, trying to cognate my surroundings when the bell rang for the second time. I groaned, rubbing my forehead, but the sharp, hammering headache didn't wade off. I looked around to find myself sprawled on my couch, drool having fallen from my mouth onto my precious sofa. I sat up and rubbed the drool off the couch when the door bell rang. It registered in my mind that this was probably the third time someone was ringing the bloody bell, desperate to come in. I lazily got up on my feet, wobbling a little as I made my way to the door.

"Coming," I called out, walking at a snail's pace. I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass cupboard a few paces before the door, and frowned at my state. Hair standing out in all directions, creased t-shirt falling off from my shoulder, I looked like shit. I felt for a moment that I should probably go and correct myself before I figured I didn't give two hoots about it, and rushed to open the door and get over with it.

"Surprise," Taira made a lame attempt to scream but with no apparent success. She didn't seem to take notice of it and hugged me. I came to my senses in a flash. Taira hugged me? I tried to catch my footing due to the sudden attack, and patted her back awkwardly. I had no idea what to do. Why, she hated hugs. Every time I had tried to hug her in the past, she had dodged me like my outstretched arms were snakes trying to ensnare her and never let go. She didn't like anyone hugging her. We once went to a mall and she told my broke self that she will be sponsoring our lunch. Due to the obvious delight, I tried to fling my arms around her affectionately, but she elegantly shifted away, and I fell in the arms of the mannequin who couldn't take the weight of my affections and we both fell down. The embarrassment was legendary.

My point being something must have happened for her to feel the need to hug me. "Taira, are you fine?" I broke off the hug, but she didn't. "What happened?" I asked, searching her face for any sign of sadness.

"Me? Oh no, I am amazing," she said airily and waved my worry off. "In fact, I couldn't be happier. But what's wrong with you? I don't mean to sound like rich and mean but that is a really ugly green shirt. Is that a caterpillar on it?"

I deadpanned a look at her before striding away. "You go to Paris for a while and get high on fashion in no time," I said flatly from the kitchen, brewing a fresh cup of tea for me and coffee of her. She didn't deign to give me a reply and simply sat on the kitchen counter, legs dangling down from it. I raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything as she started to whistle about. It was then I noticed Taira. Taira was not... Taira. Something had changed. There was a chirpiness about her that I hadn't seen in all this time we were friends. I could see Paris agreed with her. She looked... alive, dressed crisply in a beige collar top and brown flannel skirt. Confidence oozed from her being, making me slightly jealous. Here she was, looking all business-like in her outfit, and then there was me, struggling to pick up the broken pieces of my life. I didn't lull on that topic anymore, afraid I would wander into territories I knew there was no coming back from.

I stirred my tea as silence reigned around us, each one immersed in their own thoughts.

"You aren't getting ready for office?" Taira asked suddenly while playing with a spoon on the counter. "I thought I will surprise you and then drop you off to work." I stiffened at her words but continued to stir my pot of tea, careful to not meet her eyes.

"I took a holiday," I said as nonchalantly as I could.

"That's good. We can spend time together if you don't have plans," I could feel her beaming beside me. "Also, you didn't tell me uncle and aunty went back," she said as she hopped off he counter, hands on her hips. "And, what happened to Dhruv? Why did you take a holiday?"

What happened? Huh. My marriage was fixed with Dhruv fixed without my consent, my boyfriend left me, and my parents flew away from their own daughter without as much as a farewell. And I did think all that warranted a holiday or two from work. I had every intention of telling Taira the truth. I had learnt the hard way that hiding it didn't do any good. But, it was too early for the truth. It had to wait for a little bit more.

I didn't answer her questions and handed her cup of coffee. "Why are you here, though? You were going to come later, weren't you?" I asked, casually sipping my tea.

Her eyes dimmed as she inhaled loudly. "The news. The television channels were creating trouble. There was news that... dad," she closed her eyes painfully before continuing, "... that he was faking illness and had to be brought to the hospital. So, I got a call from the investors that I will have to come back immediately to solve the controversy out. But," she inhaled again, an almost relieved look on her face. "All these were fake rumors circulating in the media to create a ruckus. There's no illness or anything of the sorts. That's why I was back two days earlier and thought to meet my best friend after the drama was sorted," she grinned, taking a sip of her coffee. I smiled back, unable to quell the warmth and sadness that seeped through me after listening to the piece of news.

"You didn't see it? The news? It was all over," Taira said as she kept her cup down.

"No, I didn't. I was... occupied, with things," I stuck to the truth, unable to come up with any more lies. I was done with lies.

"How was France, though?" I changed the topic to not risk maneuvering into unchartered territories.

Her eyes shone with happiness as she started her monologue. "Oh, just blissful! I went to this tiny village there in the interiors of France, and I tell you the nooks and corners of France are even more beautiful than its cities. There was this exceptionally beautiful castle there, obviously made for the noble house who must have ruled the lands for centuries and it was everything you love. The history, the architecture, and... " She went on to describe her journey for quite awhile, from the city of lights and love to the dainty villages she went to. I patiently listened while giving short responses, smiling all the time as her animated chatter went on. It was surprising to see her excited from within; her eyes shone with a light I hadn't seen in years. My heart warmed at the sight of her.

Once she was done and was sipping her now cold coffee, I asked, "This Marco guy who taught you painting, tell me more about him. You told me everything about the journey, but nothing about your painting time. I want to know more about him," I popped a biscuit in my mouth as I watched her eyes fleeting all around the room before landing on me again. I smirked a little behind my second cup of tea (yes, I had switched a cup in the time Taira was talking).

"Uhh... what about him?" She stammered, eyes focused on her coffee cup. I narrowed my eyes, but didn't say anything.

"How was he?"

"Good." I rolled my eyes.

"Taira, elaborate! Has your vocabulary suddenly gone for a toss, right after calling everything else in France chic, elegant, exquisite, magnifique? And all you call the poor uncle is good?"

"Uncle!" Her eyes widened with shock and outrage as she snapped back to attention. "He isn't 'uncle'. He is just...forty. Hardly an age for us to call him 'uncle'. He is an exceptionally handsome man who will put even twenty-five-year boys to shame. And the elegance and sophistication along with the humility - uncle!" She scoffed incredulously. "If he is uncle, you will be aunty in the next ten years. Be ready for that," she smirked wickedly.

"Taira, that's a decade from now," I said in a placating manner, which only had her glaring at me. I shook my head, dazed as to what had got into her. "Chill, okay? I get it. Your Marco is perfect."

"He isn't my Marco," she snapped again, snatching the last biscuit in the plate from my hand.

"Fine dude, get over it!" I said incredulously, taking the cups and the plate to the kitchen sink.

"Abhi is going to be mine," she said in a small voice, making me immediately shut the tap close.

"Who?" I asked, one hand on the hip.

"Abhimanyu Sharma," she said, looking up hesitatingly. I was silent for a while before I replied.

"Yes, I'm perfectly sure now. You've lost your mind and senses back in Paris," I nodded to myself.

"My senses are intact. I didn't lose them there," she said quietly, making me glare at her.

"But you have lost your mind, there's no question about it," I shook my head deliriously. There was something very, very wrong with this Taira Kapoor.

She scowled at me before taking a deep breath in. "Listen, I am meeting Abhimanyu's family the day after tomorrow, for the arrange marriage thing," she said and twiddled her fingers.

"What arrange marriage? Why? Taira!" I almost screamed, unable to figure her absurd behaviour.

She sighed. "Abhimanyu's parents called me with an offer of marriage when I returned to India. I said yes for the meeting."

"Taira, he's your childhood friend!"

"Yes, I know," she mumbled, still looking down on the table.

"Do you realize what you're doing? You've ran around in underwear with this guy! Heck, you were going to tie him a rakhi when you were eight when his mother said there was no need for that!"

She groaned. "Remind me why did I tell you that again?"

"Did you somehow fell in love with him? Did something happen that I don't know about?" I strode towards her and sat opposite to her, taking her hands in mine. She didn't say anything for a few seconds, but then looked up and said -

"No, but everyone isn't lucky enough to find love. They are simply not destined for it. I know Abhimanyu since childhood. I know his family. There are really good people. Due to dad's scene none of my relatives pick my calls anymore except my Mama and Mami. It would at least be a marriage of a good companionship even if we don't fall in love. And I will have a family most importantly. The Sharmas were one of the very few who called me after the whole fiasco happened with father, they spoke kind words to me. Abhimanyu even helped me to stop the fake news from spreading. That's a family," she said, clutching my hands tightly, tears shining in her eyes. "I am content with that."

My heart ached for her. I understood where she came from. Importance of family, who would know that better than the one whose parents had left without a farewell. It hurt, the loss of family. Perhaps even more than the loss of love.

"Yes, that makes sense," I said quietly, wiping a lone tear that had fallen down her cheeks. "You are a mature person, and if you think this is right for you then know that I will always stand by your decisions."

Her eyes shone with gratitude. "Will you come to the lunch? With me, for the marriage talk?"

"Of course, I will!" I beamed at her, knowing it would lift her spirits up.

"Great! My mama and mami will also be coming."

We remained silent for a while after which she blurted out of nowhere, "Not everyone is like you and Abeer. Soul mate material. Match made in heaven. Some matches have to be made on earth, isn't it? I will be happy with Abhi," she said with finality, eyes trained on the ground. I wasn't sure if the words were meant for me or herself.

But my heart was caught on what she had said first. Abeer. Soul mate material. Match made in heaven. The words kept ringing in my mind and I didn't see her thrust a canvas out of her bag and in my face with pride.

I looked at the oil colors and my throat felt dry. Our painting, Abeer and mine, the one she told me about, from when we went to the concert. I felt a dagger pass through my heart at the picture. She had used monochrome colors, but it still looked vibrant. I didn't understand the artistry that must have gone behind the painting, but I could figure out us in it. It was a painting of us taking a selfie in the concert, me hugging his torso from the side. I could remember the night, this picture we had taken, me leaning so heavily on him as if he was the only pillar to my crumbling self...

I caressed the picture with a light hand, afraid I would spoil the colors. And suddenly, everything flashed in front of my mind. The days with Abeer, the happening on the lake, and a tear fell on the canvas; I forgot my previous worries of me ruining it.

She looked at my tear filled eyes and asked worriedly, "You don't like it?"

"It is...beautiful," I said softly. "I wish it weren't as painful as it is," I took a shaky breath, but the tears didn't seem to stop.

"What happened? Aashi?" Taira asked, confused and worried at my reaction. She took the canvas from my hands, placing it on the table and turned me to look at her.

"Aashi, tell me," she implored, and I broke down in her arms. She didn't resist my hug and simply patted my back affectionately. I cried more at that.

"Oh Aashi," she sighed compassionately and nudged me to talk. And talk I did. I talked and cried and talk and cried over and over, until there were no words or tears left in my mind and eyes.

And all the while, the canvas innocently sat on the dining table, listening to stories it had never heard. Bearing witness to stories that would perhaps never have a happy ending.

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