"How did you meet Amir?" I ask, my eyes watching hers carefully. She takes a small sip of her coffee, crossing her leg over another under her blanket. The light alters her hair, giving it a light brown look while giving her skin a glow.
"He used to live on my street. We were best friends and our parents used to always tease us about how close we were. That night, his parents came over to watch cricket with my parents," she begins saying, her eyes glazed over.
"Amir saw the shooting first hand. In order to survive, he had ran out of of the house and spent the night across, at the neighbors. The next day, I found him. After that, the neighbors decided to call his aunt to take us both."
"After my parents, I had no one besides Amir. They had no siblings and lost in touch with my grandparents," Matsya speaks, her voice soft whenever she mentions her parents. "Amir's aunty lived only a few towns away from here. Since she was quite old, she sent me to live at a boarding school and Amir to stay with her."
With downcast eyes, she carries on speaking. "He met the wrong crowd. When I came back, he was a completely different person and it stung. He was the only person I had left or the only person that cared about me and he was . . ."
"Cruel," she finally says. "He was cruel to anyone beside me and I didn't think of it to be that much. It took him a long time to convince me that the only way I could possibly get revenge or have someone to care about me was joining them."
I put down my coffee, my eyes widening by the moment. Finally, I find one last question to ask her. "How does Diego come in though?"
At first, she stays quiet - most likely unsure on whether she should tell me or not. "My parents were killed for their land. We had this huge house that took up so much space. A few people wanted to build a mall instead and when my parents disagreed, everything went downhill."
"Diego's parents had apart in it?" I question. But how? Matsya's story obviously took part in India and Diego doesn't have anything to do with India . . .
His parents.
My eyes widen. How did I even forget that his parents are Indian themselves? They acted like a white couple however. "How could they orphan some kids when they've adopted so many kids?" I mutter, my eyes downcasted towards the floor.
"It's a mask most likely. Who would suspect a couple that adopts so many kids and have so many charities?" Matsya easily filled in the blanks for me. "Both of their careers began in India."
"Then how did being my assistant fit in? And how do you plan on getting revenge? And why didn't you just leave Amir? You don't need his help," I quiz. She sighs, her eyes drifting towards the window over my head.
"If the police couldn't help us then despite the piles of evidence we have, what's the use now? There's no such thing as justice when you don't have money," she replies. "Destroying their companies is a start."
"You haven't answered my other questions," I point out. It's most likely one pm now. My stomach rumbles with hunger but I ignore it easily. The answers to the questions that have burned me so long are more important.
Beside Matsya's voice and my questions, the apartment is silent. You could hear the hum of the fridge or the chirping of a few birds outside if you listen closely. Matsya's eyes search for those birds, her brown orbs scanning the open window.
"I can't tell you."
I raise an eyebrow. "Sorry," Matsya mutters. Her eyes glance to clock hanging over the TV. They follow each movement of the clock, the hand of its moving closer and closer to the 6 mark. Finally, the clock's hand tells us it's 1:30 and Matsya gets up, her eyes widening.
"I should go," she says, her eyes meeting mine for a moment before taking a glance at the door again. "It's better to be early than late."
She's referencing to Amir, isn't she? A chill climbs over my spine. After this moment, I'll most likely never see Matsya again. Ever. She'll be just another name I hear in the office, another mystery and someone who does nothing but bring painful memories back.
"Don't."
The words come out strong, solid as if she possibly could avoid Amir. "Don't do it, please," I say again, my eyes pleading with her brown ones. Her usually emotionless eye shave melted into pools of sadness and I take a step back.
It's not fair on her. She has no choice other than Amir. If she picks me, Amir will kill both of us and if she picks Amir, we'll both be safe. It's simpler this way.
But, something inside me breaks whenever I see her with Amir. Her heartbroken eyes at a friendship gone wrong, a life dear to her gone cruel and the mere way she reacts fate his touch just breaks me in half. I don't like it.
I don't like it isn't enough to explain what happens to me after seeing her so broken. It's as if broken shards of glass and my heart was shoved in a jar and violently shaken.
And now, she's willingly going to him.
It's not even the way she gets around Amir that's making me want to stop her, it's my own selfish reasons. I know Amir likes her, in a more of a romantic way than a friend way. It's obvious from the way he glared at me and watched her as if she was some wish.
The very though of Amir even touching Matsya makes me entirely angry and a bit . . . Jealous. He has the privilege of falling in love with her without the side effects (of the mystery behind her and the danger). While, I'm stuck with this huge question mark that haunts me for answers.
"Nirvaan."
Her voice snaps me back into reality and I watch her brown eyes. "Please," I say again, wishing for the impossible. My whole heart begs for her to stay, even if it's for a complete selfish reason.
Her lips meet mine for a moment, pausing only long enough to leave a peck. She leans away from me, allowing me to smell my soap on her brown skin as she leans away from me. Her arm brushes past me and within a moment, she's walking past me with her bag on her shoulder and her eyes firmly on the door.
Before she reaches completely past me, my fingers faintly hold onto her arm. It's soft, barely enough to hurt her but I know it does. The grip is soft, just enough to feel the smoothness of her skin but the emotional impact of it is still painful.
Her finger pry off mine and without another word, the door of my apartment slaps.
And just like that, she was gone.
□
How was the chapter?
It kind of makes me sad but this book is most likely to end soon ?? It'll most likely end around the 25 chapter or 30th and I know, it's pretty far away but still. This is most likely one of my favorite stories to write (eventhough it's pretty shit compared to my other stories) and has the most surport throughout it.
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- Maya.