Chapter 21

"What are you doing here?"

The cop questions Jeet, after inspecting our vehicle. Jeet explains our situation. The cop nods in understanding.

"Sir, if I may ask, what is going on? Why is there so much of security and roadblocks?" Jeet asks the policeman.

"A leader of local gang was shot dead this evening by some unknown assailants. His gang members have gone on a rampage, looting, destroying vehicles and property and creating a ruckus," he explains. "Therefore there is a temporary curfew tonight around this area till tomorrow morning. I suggest you go home quickly and don't leave your house till it is declared safe, as we have received reports of some miscreants heading this way."

The cop gives us a permission pass to show at the other checkpoints. We cross three more checkpoints before we reach my building. I direct Jeet to my building and he looks at me in surprise. "You live here?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head.

Does he think the entire building belongs to me? Is that why he is so surprised? From the outside it does look like one single bungalow and no one who didn't know, would guess that it was divided into smaller apartments. "I live in a studio apartment in the building. Its divided into smaller apartments you know. I don't live in this huge building all by myself," I laughingly clarify.

"Aah," he says, nodding his head.

I look at the locked gates of my building. What should I do now? The situation outside is dangerous. Should I ask Jeet to come in? I am not allowed to let men stay in my apartment. Is it safe to let him stay the night in my house?

'What is wrong with you Tarana?' inner voice admonishes. Jeet helped me out, over and beyond the call of duty. He could have left me in the hospital and gone back home, but he didn't! He stayed and is still here, making sure I am alright. He has ensured my safety every time and given me no reason to think otherwise. He helped me out on so many occasions and here I am, even considering the possibility of letting him go out in a hazardous situation.

The neighbors are not nosy, so no one would find out that he stayed the night. Moreover, it being Sunday and a curfew they would hopefully just stay inside their homes. The night watchman leaves early morning, the day guy would have no idea, and besides he hardly stays at the gate most of the time. Once the situation gets back to normal, Jeet could leave quietly, when the gates are left open.

"I think you should stay at my place tonight."

"No. I should leave. It's going to be fine. I am sure it's not even that serious."

As if on cue, in the far distance, we hear faint shouts of an angry mob and police sirens.

I look at Jeet. "Please I insist, it's a matter of a few hours. You can leave in the morning like the policeman said."

"What about your husband? Would he mind?"

"You don't worry about him. It is absolutely fine for you to stay."

Jeet ponders for a moment before nodding in agreement. I have to call out to the night watchman a couple of times and Jeet has to honk, before the man sleepily opens the gate. He comes up to the car but drops his questioning look when he sees me at the back with my bandaged foot propped up.

Once the car is parked inside, Jeet holds me at the waist as I hop on my crutches and even tighter as I navigate the steps to the door of my house.

"Welcome to my small little home," I gesture in a sweeping motion as we enter my house. "It's not much, but I hope you will be comfortable."

Jeet looks around the house, his face impassive, before he turns to look at me. He gives me a tired smile and I realize with dismay, that he must be exhausted. At least I got some rest at the hospital, but he was up the whole time.

"Oh dear, I am so stupid. You must be worn-out. Please freshen up while I make sleeping arrangements for you." I show him the bathroom and while he is in there, I prepare a makeshift bed on the couch.

I look up to see Jeet step into the living area, and my breath hitches in my throat as I watch him walk towards me. He has washed his face, his short beard glistening with tiny beads of water that missed being wiped down with the towel. The sleeves of his shirt turned up to his elbows, giving me a glimpse of his muscular arms, the top two buttons of the shirt undone, showing his toned chest with a smattering of hair.

His hair is no longer flattened sideways but is wet combed back with his fingers. The Jeet standing in front of me doesn't look anything like the Jeet I see in office. This one looks younger and more carefree than the nerdy version.

I clear my throat "Um.. would you like something to eat?"

"No thanks, I ate at the hospital."

"Uh, okay then. You can sleep here," I point to the couch, "just tell me if you need anything."

"Sure. Thanks."

When I return from the bathroom, Jeet is already asleep on the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. I take the opportunity to study him while he sleeps soundly, overtaken by the fatigue of the day's exertions.

He looks so peaceful when he is asleep, his chest rising and falling gently, his breathing deep and even. His face has an innocent charm, all trace of stress and anxiety wiped away. His long, thick lashes nearly touch his cheekbones, before curling away. His dusty pink lips, almost hidden under his facial hair, are plump and right now, slightly open and most kissable. I want to touch him so badly, that I literally have to walk away to stop myself.

I plop down on my bed. What am I doing? I am getting attracted to someone I hardly know and more importantly, who has shown no interest in me. Worse, for reasons unknown as yet, he is pretending to be someone he is not. Common sense tells me I should avoid Jeet, he spells trouble.

"The heart wants what it wants,' inner voice sings the chorus of the Selena Gomez number, off key.

One day I will strangle inner voice.

-----------------------------

The smell of food wakes me up. More accurately, my stomach grumbling in response to the smell of food, wakes me up. Where am I? I look around myself. Seems like I am in my house, I am still on my bed, yet I get the unmistakable smell of food coming from my kitchen.

Mmmm.. coffee and omelette.

The sun is streaming brightly into the house. What time is it?

What the hell? It's almost 10:00 a.m.

Shit! I forgot Jeet is here! He must be hungry. I am such a terrible host.

I hear the clink of spoon against pan, making me jump out of the bed. Bad idea. I forgot I have a sprained foot.

Oww! oww! oww!

I grab my crutches and head to the kitchen. The scene in front of me, makes my heart skip a beat. Jeet is pottering around the stove, looking very much at home in my little kitchen. It seems so much like a picture of domestic bliss. I recall those days when dad used to cook on Sundays to give mom a break. Gosh! I miss those days. My throat constricts as emotions well up. I clear my throat.

"Hi! good morning."

"Oh hey!" Jeet turns around and his eyes widen at the sight of me. Shit! I must look a mess with my just-out-of-bed look. He must have woken up much earlier seeing that he has washed his face and combed his hair into its regular flat style. His shirt with the sleeves rolled up, is disheveled and wrinkled, an obvious sign of having slept in it.

I furiously attempt to fix my hair and rub traces of sleep from my face. The food smells heavenly. The sound of my grumbling stomach is probably heard a mile away. I clutch my stomach trying to sush it into silence.

He turns back to the food he was preparing, "I, uh, I am sorry I just helped myself to your kitchen. I was about to leave but you were out like a light and it did not look like you would wake up any time soon. So, I thought I would make something for you to eat when you wake up. I hope you like cheese omelette."

"Thank you. It's my favorite. And it is very considerate of you. I don't usually sleep this late, I guess it was the medicines."

"You need to rest."

I insist Jeet have breakfast with me. He relents after some persuasion. Breakfast is delicious. In fact, the cheese omelette is the best I have ever tasted. I tell him so and I think he blushed.

Once breakfast is over, we sit in silence looking at each other. Neither have spoken much during our meal, except to comment on the food. I decline his offer to clear the dishes, now that my foot does not hurt as much, and I need something to do.

"I better get going. I checked the news and things are back to normal now. Thank you for your hospitality."

"I should be the one thanking you actually. You saved my life. Again. It's becoming into a habit," I grin at him. Jeet is struggling not to smile at my dumb joke, his mouth twitching at the corners.

"I have to go."

The doorbell rings just as he gets up.

I open the door and my heart jumps to my mouth.

"Mr. Chavan!!"

"What are you doing here?"