Bye, Bhalobasha: A Short Story (Ours #3)

Part One: Hurting

"Coffee, and your favorite, too." Abhik grinned sheepishly.

He caught a ghost of a blush on her cheeks before she turned away, clutching her cup. Abhik reached for the napkins and began wiping away at the mess. "You can have mine," he suggested, bunching up all of the napkins that were now soaked in coffee. Returning his eyes to hers, he pushed the other cup slightly closer to her. She thanked him, and this time, waited a few minutes or so before taking her first sip.

Abhik decided to ask once she was done, but when he did, he found her reaction somewhat... surprising. "What?" she asked, setting her cup aside, blinking twice at the question.

"How's your nani doing now?" he repeated.

"She's, she's definitely doing better, now," Suraiya answered. She was looking out of the window now, and Abhik at that moment felt something in his chest bubble. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Suraiya felt strange, distant all of a sudden. "Jaan," he called for her. She didn't respond. 

"Jaan." He tried again, and this time, she turned her head around, facing him. Abhik held out his hand on the table and gestured towards it while looking at her. She placed her hand in his, and he curled his hand into a sort of fist so to cover her hand. It felt so loose like if he let go of her hand right now, she would let it fall. But he didn't; he held on.

"I'm here for you. So, if you need anything at all, tell me. Please?" he looked almost pleadingly at her, and when she nodded and muttered a soft 'I will,' he breathed out a sigh of relief.

***

The next day was the holidays, and Abhik found himself being bored within the walls of his own house. His friends had gone out or out of Dhaka itself, so he could not ask them to accompany his lonely self. He called Suraiya, but she did not pick up. Glancing at the time and seeing that it was barely noon, he reckoned that she was still asleep.

An idea began forming in his head, and it was finalized when he set foot outside his house and got onto his bike. Excitement coursed through him, even when he arrived there. He walked around the mall, trying to find what he was looking for. And when he was done, carrying the bag in his hand and close to his side like it was his life, he started to make his way out.

"Suraiya..."

It could be a friend, a cousin, even, Abhik wanted to tell himself. And he might have believed it, but when he saw Suraiya snuggled up to him the way she was, that said otherwise.

'You can still leave right now,' the voice in his head told him. 'Leave now and forget that you saw this.' He looked back and forth between him and her, and although something in his gut told him not to, Abhik went up to her and asked, "Eita ki hocche?"

Suraiya jumped, and Abhik was about to extend an arm out to console her, laugh with her and tell her that it was just him, when he beat him to it. The guy sitting beside her held her hand, squeezing it tightly as he looked straight at Abhik. "Do we know you?" 

He wasn't glaring, nor was he smiling. But it was the edge to the tone in his voice that told Abhik this guy wasn't one to mess with. Before he could lose his wits, he spoke. "Could I speak with her?" Abhik nudged Suraiya with his eyes. Suraiya's eyes widened as both Abhik and the guy sitting next to her looked her way. "Suri, is he a friend of yours?"

That familiar nickname Abhik had given her when they had just started dating was coming out of the lips of this man. She was avoiding looking at him, directing her gaze anywhere but at him. "Na, Raju. I don't know him."

Raju. Aside from the name, Abhik didn't bother looking at the guy. He couldn't. "I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. I don't know you."

This time, Suraiya was looking at him as she said this. Her hand was gripping Raju's, tightly. And Abhik could feel a chill run up his arms when she did. So Abhik did what he found difficult to do in this situation. He smiled, and it felt so strained, so unlike him, that he released it just a second afterward. "I guess so. Have a nice day," he told them.

***

He turned his back and made his way out of the mall, heading for his bike parked just nearby. He tried to formulate a word, a thought, only to find that his mind had been fogged up. With fumbling hands, he reached for his phone and sighed in defeat before calling him. It rang once, twice, before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Zahir," he found much difficulty to utter the next words, "You were right."

Whatever was going on in the background stopped and left sheer silence other than their voices. "I'm coming over."