Chapter 18 - Akshara - Maybe

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8:30m. It was 30 minutes past 8pm. And he still wasn't here. My friends were busy chatting amongst themselves, including me in the conversation too but all I could feel was loneliness. Disappointment. My ears were just filled with a strange buzzing sound that zoned out all the external noise around me.

I looked over at the entrance for maybe the hundredth time this evening hoping he'd materialize out of thin air. I wanted him here. I wanted him to come. But maybe it had been too soon. Maybe I did cross the invisible threshold he had outlined around him. Maybe I had pestered him too much.

Maybe we were better of as just acquaintances. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him too hard too fast. First the thing in the elevator with Vikram and then bulldozing my way into his cabin afterwords to pressurizing him or come hang out with my friends and me. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

"Akshara, should we get going? It's getting late." Armaan nudged me on the elbow for the third time since we got here, dispersing me away from my thoughts.

"Uhh, yeah. Let's go." I nodded. I couldn't tell them to keep waiting for a man that may or may not show.

I glanced at the entrance door one last time, hopeful that he would show. No, he wasn't obligated to come if he didn't want to but the very fact that he didn't show up made a strange sense of gloominess wash over me.

I lowered my lashes and began to follow behind Armaan when the door opened and I felt a strong and very known presence step inside the two sliding doors. I could feel an immediate shift in air and I looked up just in time to see Abhimanyu enter the building dressed in jeans and a white tee with a bomber jacket on top.

As if on cue, a smile lit up my face as I watched him stand at the entrance, lost, unsure of himself.

"One sec. Here's here." I informed my friends as I filtered my way through the crowd to reach my end destination —him.

"Hey you! You made it!" I said, with a broad smile plastered on my face, eying him head to toe.

There was something about this man. He looked almost perfect in anything he wore. Was there an item of clothing that this man couldn't pull off?Scrubs? Check. Formal attire? Check. Button up shirts with slacks? Check. And now jeans and a jacket? Checkity check check!

I guess I had been staring at him in elated happiness for long enough to get noticed by him.

"You're staring."

"You look nice. You should dress like this more often."

"I do dress like this —often. You just haven't seen me."

Cocky and sarcastic. But the confidence suited him. Dr. Abhimanyu Birla, the great Cardiac surgeon really was an entirely different man away from the four walls of his hospital.

"Sorry I'm late." He paused and then continued without waiting for a response. "I actually did arrive here at 8pm."

I raised my eyebrow in silent question.

"And I sat in my sat in my car for a good 20 minutes contemplating whether I should come inside or not. I even thought of what excuses to you." He confessed, like a child feeling ashamed that they got caught with the hand down the candy jar.

I folded my arms against my chest, trying to mask my huge grin with falsified anger. Who said I couldn't have a little bit of fun and add to Abhimanyu's misery?

"Oh. And what excuses were those?"

He bit his lower lip in hesitation. "Food poisoning. An emergency at work. A migraine."

"So you're telling me you went out of your way to drive all the way here and sat in the parking lot for over half an hour thinking of excuses to flake on hanging out tonight?" I asked, feigning anger.

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