I find his hands getting tighter around me. This sudden display of empathy--it could be sympathy too-- is disturbing in its own right. Everything has been going on smoothly- we are on track with the plan, we haven't argued, we are getting along amiably. The only thing that has changed is his gaze towards me. His eyes look different. His rigidity prohibits me from understanding the meaning behind the front he has been putting up lately. He has warmed up to an extent that a return from it now seems impossible. I need him more than ever now. That once physical desire is metamorphosing into an emotional dependence. My need for him is now driven by merely having him around. If he exists around me, it would be more than enough for me. And hence, the sudden hug. The sudden request that asked him to stay back for a bit longer. If he agrees, good. If not, I am used to being alone anyways.

We draw apart. I have teared up unknowingly. I sniff to hold back my tears. He brings his hand to my face and wipes my tears. His gentle touch stirs me from within. His thumb wipes my cheek dry. He comes forward, even though there isn't much distance between us. My heart begins to pound. Can he hear me? I hope not. He stands that way, gazing at my face for some time. He gulps, and then steps back. "Let's go.", he says.

I nod. I wipe my face dry and follow him out like an obedient kid. We wait in the living room for Pulkit Kachwaha. He arrives in his car, bringing his driver and secretary along. I had assumed he would bring a convoy, but never mind. He is wearing a off-white kurta and a white pyjama. Vansh outright dressed like him. I am sure of it. I think of it and smile to myself. Good move to impress. Pulkit comes forward and shakes hands with us. He has a light stubble, and a vibrant smile. No wonder many people call him one of the most good-looking politicians of the times. He takes a seat, and we get to some casual talks first, waiting for some refreshments. The talk slowly transitions into strict business, with me making recommendations for the wind power project. Vansh adds his inputs from time to time. Pulkit listens intently. His attention is driven by his need to secure a second-term by doing well this time. Politicians are all the same. If some good can come out of his greed, then why not.

The plan is not merely to install windmills in the desert, but also around the hotel. If solar energy cannot serve all the purpose, we can let wind energy do the deed. It also helps with Vansh's 50% renewable energy operations plan for the hotel. Sisodia liked the plan. He suggested painting the windmills to match the aesthetic of the hotel if they are going to be closer to the site; but this can wait for later.

As ecstatic I was narrating the plan to him that day, Vansh appeared a bit lost. He even rushed to the car and had to take his medications, the latter of which I was informed by Palak later. Something has been off since then. Mayank and Palak appear to have a mutual understanding about not telling me something. All the things match up to tell me it is something about that day which they are concealing from me.

Things go rather smoothly with Pulkit Kachwaha. He does not try dragging things around, or interrupting, or overpowering us. Nodding his head and providing constructive inputs does not seem much like a politician, but I remember he has an MBA degree. He's smart. He knows what he is doing. What we are trying to do.

During dinner, Pulkit moves the conversation from business to other things. Business is tedious. We, as businessmen know it the best. And although we hope for a life that is away from business, it is rendered next to impossible. Our glamorous and luxurious lifestyle has darker layers to it, something that people turn a blind eye to, or are plain unaware of. Take business marriages for example. Love and and compatibility are often neglected in favour of profits. The marriage between Jagat and Tara is plain business. As would the marriage between Yashika and Vansh be. I am taken over by pain- it feels as if something sharp pierced my heart and shredded it into pieces. As much as I try avoiding it, my brain keeps reminding me of the fact that Vansh is taken. Even though not officially engaged, everyone in the business and pop culture circle knows that the two of them are meant to be. I have heard rumours about them getting married in the coming year. My request for him to stay over for the New Year's Eve is directed by that very intention. It feels as if I am giving him away even though there's nothing between us. I need closure. A closure for the deal, but more importantly, my feelings. Isn't it ironical that I began seeing Shashi at a New Year's party, and I am trying to end my feelings for Vansh around the same time?

I shouldn't have hugged him. It stirred something within me. A desire to safeguard him. A desire to have him all. My feelings are in conflict with the obvious reality in front of me. I can neither do this, nor that. In putting up a responsible front in front of him, I am deceiving myself. But so long as I succeed in deceiving myself and those around me, I can actually protect him. My feelings out in the open would be a hazard. Unlike me, people still expect things from him. I am a lost cause for everyone. I don't know what lie my family has told the board of directors to hide my reality. They must have crafted an elaborate lie to obliterate my presence in board meetings. I have the lowest shareholding among all the directors. Whatever their story is, I hope it remains concealed; I am afraid of knowing the extent to which they hate me. 

Pulkit and Vansh are looking at me. I might have been stirring the soup for far too long. Their bowls are empty, while mine is untouched. I apologize and ask the house help to take the soup away and directly bring dinner. Pulkit goes back to discussing politics which do not interest me at all. Politicians and businessmen are perhaps equally dirty and deceptive in their dealings. What comes to light is what is important. Vansh is listening to Pulkit intently. I am uneasy. Pulkit is married, I remind myself. He is straight, not gay. I hope he is not bi. What am I even babbling to myself? Good that thoughts cannot be heard.

My assumptions about Pulkit leaving soon after dessert were heavily misplaced. He wants to see the stretch of desert behind the haveli. Vansh looks at me. Apparently, both of us share the same uneasy feelings about this. Our secret hideout--which is not actually a hideout since the desert is an open space--is out in the open. We find it an intrusion in our space. I cannot deny that request to Pulkit. Even Vansh knows that. Pulkit waits for my answer. I nod and escort him there. Vansh follows us. His countenance has changed. He appears displeased at my decision, even though it is a rational one. I hope my supposed rationality does not backfire.

We walk through the desert, Pulkit right next to me. I hate that Vansh is behind us. I want to ask him to walk by us, but I cannot. Vansh doesn't come forward either. This is a precarious situation for me. I bet I appeared distracted to Pulkit again. He clears his throat. I look at him. "Were you saying something?", I ask him.

"You appeared really disturbed during dinner. Is everything okay?"

I laugh uneasily. "It is. I have a tendency to get lost in my thoughts from time to time."

He grins at me. "Thinking of whom?" His question is perturbing. Did he notice? Vansh, the man in concern, is oblivious to my feelings, and this man who I met for the first time, grabbed it.

I shake my head. "Just random things here and there."

"I doubt." He puts his hands behind his back. "You were too lost, but then again immersed in looking at someone from time to time."

I don't answer. Anything I say in my defence could potentially backfire. If Pulkit comes to know about it, he might back out of the deal. Everything would be over.

He leans closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I felt as if I was third-wheeling." I look at him. He grins. "This arrangement--I mean the way we are walking--is causing serious problems back there." He means Vansh. I raise my eyebrows in confusion. He comes to a stop. It is the spot where I and Vansh usually sit. The marks of the bonfire can still be seen. "Do you sit here from time to time?", Pulkit asks me. I nod. "Can we sit here?", comes his next question. He knows I can't decline. I agree. 

A house help brings us wood, and I light a bonfire. Vansh sits opposite us, facing the haveli. Pulkit is to my right. He keeps bringing up anecdotes from all places. He is getting too friendly early-on. I detest his behaviour. I control my reactions, pushing them to the very pit to save the deal. One who needs more always concedes. I reckon my life might now be a game of conceding one point after another.

I find Vansh going quieter and quieter as Pulkit gets louder and louder. I reminisce the time Vansh was next to me in this very spot, shivering without a shawl. We were so close to each other when I lent him mine to share. I vividly remember not just my heart thumping in my chest, but also my desperate desire to kiss him. His lips looked so succulent (although it cannot be an adjective for lips). I could have eaten him. I could have had the best meal of my life. I could have had him. Just like that.

I think I see some movement in the desert. I ignore it. It could be my eyes playing games. Pulkit's secretary comes soon enough and whispers something in his ears. Pulkit gets up, I and Vansh follow suit.

"I need to attend to something urgently. Since we have discussed all details already, I'd appreciate it if I were to get a written document elaborating on all details.", he says.

"Sure thing. I'll send it to you by tomorrow evening.", I assure him.

Pulkit leaves, bidding us goodbye. As I turn to face Vansh, he gives me a look of annoyance. He looks...jealous. Cannot be though. Who and what is making him jealous? And why would anything make him so? I explain it to myself that he felt alone, or perhaps even sidelined while Pulkit went on speaking to me alone. I couldn't have helped it beyond a certain measure. I smile at Vansh. "Should we just sit here? The fire has been lit after all." I sit down in my spot, without hearing his answer. He keeps standing before coming to me and sitting to my left. He changed his position.

"Was it fun getting all attention?", he asks me. His tone and expression both suggest jealousy.

"I could not have stopped him."

"You chose not to."

"What makes you think that?"

"You were grinning."

"Did I have a choice?" I am now getting offended. "Do you think I'll throw myself at random men just because I am gay?"

"I DID NOT SAY THAT." The sudden rise in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, making me flinch. "I did not mean that.", he whispers. I shift, thereby moving away from him. I cannot have him confusing me further. He places his hand on my thigh and comes closer. "Do you like me?", he asks. I look into eyes out of surprise. He is dead serious. I am unable to answer immediately. My eyes begin to waver. He holds my chin and lifts it up, making me look into his eyes. I lower them. "Answer me. Yes or no?"

I keep staring at the sand between us. I wish he was at the other side- of the bonfire, of the desert, of the country, of the world. I can't answer this question. Not now. Never.

"If you don't answer,", he says after waiting for a good while, "I'll assume you like me."

I make eye contact. I am unsure. Fear has taken over body, filling me with a stiffness. I cannot move my body. I am tearing up. "I- I..." Words refuse to come out of my mouth. The day I might have waited for the longest time is here and I am sitting here, unable to utter a comprehensible word.

"You do like me." His eyes are softer. They are genuine. They don't hate me. He doesn't hate me. He lets go of my chin. "I think you love me. Since when?"

I am flabbergasted. I open my mouth- to argue, to deny. However, words refuse to come out. I must look like a machine right now. His hand still on my thigh, I am rigid all over. His hand slowly moves upwards on my thigh. He uses the other hand to hold me by my nape. "Stop me if you don't want it." 

Before I can ask what, his lips come crashing on mine. I have never felt this way before. The confusion and fear makes way for ethereal pleasure. I am in utter bliss. I realize that I am not really kissing him back. He secures my upper lip between his lips to kiss me when I don't open my mouth. His tongue tries opening my teeth. I let him succeed at that. Soon enough, his teeth are crashing against mine. His tongue is in my mouth, exploring it. I slowly allow myself to return the kiss. I hold his face, adjusting myself. His soft stubble feels so good on my hands. I go with the flow of his kiss. I rub his ear lobe, and feel it getting warmer. My other hand slowly moves down on his chest. I wrap my arm around his chest and draw him closer. Our chests are touching. Our kiss is getting faster, hotter, and more intense.

I am getting an erection. What in the world is happening right now? I cannot wrap my head around it. But I like it.

His hand has travelled up my thigh. It is now on my crotch.

Let's see how it goes.