Anmol Sharma looked at him with polite civility, before she took his hand and walked him through the back garden.

The path was forested with bushes on both sides, and they exited the garden door. To any observer from the party, it would look like they were going for a scandalous hook-up on the outdoors. But Virat was sure, it was something else.

The damn woman didn't speak much, and that bothered him immensely.

"Where are we going, Miss Sharma?" He asked, clutching the side of his waist. He still felt a little uneasy, and Anmol turned around, her eyes widening at his precarious situation. Virat wondered, how silly it must all look to her. A physically endowed man like him still feeling anxious. It was sometimes humbling, but mostly disconcerting because it meant the love he harbored for Tara made him weak.

Find your star, Virat. But at the moment, he was trying to find the constellations behind Miss Sharma's eyes. They were lighter shade, almost cat like and right now all sized up like two huge asteroids. 

"Follow me," her voice was commanding, but their was also a soft undertone to it. Almost like, follow me, Mr. Kohli. I know how to make you feel better.

For the life of him, he couldn't decide why he was following her outside the garden, towards the wild forests of Dehradun often famous for wild wolves and lonely women. They moved through the sweet lullabies of the night which comprised of flowing water and bird songs. It was here, in Dehradun, where Virat had felt more home than home itself, though he could never understand why. 

He watched Anmol tilting her face to her left, a smile painting itself on her pretty visage, her full lips illuminated by the dappling light. The smile was the longest one she had, before her face became neutral as she trailed her eyes to his face. Always avoiding his eyes.

"Miss Sharma, where are we . . . " Virat stopped mid-sentence when took a step to her right to show him the treasure. 

Virat's breath was caught when he took notice of the place. It was a creek, with water flowing but he knew it was different. This place was barely infested with weeds or watercress. It was clear as crystal, only surrounded by the beauty of the forest trees on one side, and the huge stone-laden pathway on the side where they stood.

Anmol sat on one of the stones, and motioned with her hands for him to join her. Virat took a careful step, fearing the stones might be slippery because of moss. He thought it was silly, considering Anmol wasn't so cautious when she walked over it in her five inch heels.

But then, he wondered, she was ever cautious.

"I used to come here when . . . " she shook her head, leaving her thoughts incomplete. But Virat wanted to know. He wanted to figure her out.

"When?" he prodded, taking a seat beside her carefully.

"When my mother suffered panic attacks. She used to say this place fixed everything." 

"And did it? Did it bring peace to her?" 

Anmol twiddled her thumbs on her lap, her gaze fixed on her actions. "I like to think that, other wise she would have never made it to the age of thirty without succumbing." Virat swiveled his gaze back to the creek. "What brought you out of the sorts at the party?"

"This place," he replied. "It was where I met my wife . . . and this place has always been so giving. It's hard to forget the pain. But now I realize, it's harder to remember the sweetness. It's like seeing scars of your happiness." 

"Happiness," her tone was almost wistful, and it was strange to see even that modicum of emotion in her voice when she was always rumored to be stoic and impassioned.

"Feels like an eternity that I have not known it." Virat sighed, swinging his legs to-and-fro on the edge of the creek.

"At least, you know it." Her words were rushed, but it was almost like a knife had sliced his heart into two. He had heard about her from Anvii, but surely, her circumstances were exaggerated? Because if it weren't, then his heart bled for Anmol Sharma, and whatever treatment had been meted out to her since she was young by a bunch of foolish snobs.

"Keep yourself open to the idea of happiness. I met Tara when I was in a dark phase. She thought a lot along the lines of only light can drive away darkness, etcetra."

"I think I might," she replied, followed by an ominous silence.

It occurred to Virat that Anmol had seen him in his most vulnerable state, and the idea didn't sit well with him. What was he doing? She could very well gossip about this to the media. He was an excellent judge of character but Anmol was a practical stranger. "I hope you don't tell the circumstances under which you found me today, Miss Sharma."

"That's a first," she gave a harsh, derisive laugh. "I have been called many names, but never has someone associated me with this heartlessness. Don't worry, Mr. Kohli, your secrets are safe with me."

Virat let out a painful sigh, because he knew he had disappointed her. Somewhere in her tone, she sounded more impuissant, just like him. "I'm sorry. I should've never suggested that. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Anmol clicked her tongue, slowly shaking her head. "I'm not hurt. It's just disbelieving that I was wrong about you."

"Wrong about me? Did you think I was invulnerable? Unfeeling?"

"I never thought you were one of those people who would feel ashamed of their vulnerabilities and feelings. You didn't when I found you under the precarious state with a robber willing to cut your throat." Anmol answered, this time looking into her eyes. Her eyes shone with blazing light that Virat had to catch his breath.

"I just don't want the media to ridicule me because I suffer from occasional bouts of panic attacks. Because they would think they're occasional bouts of insanity."

"You know they call me mad woman?"

"Yes."

"So you know what I did?".

Virat shook his head in response.

"I embraced my madness."

Virat laughed this time. "And it never bothers you? The vicious talks that happen behind your back never bothers you?"

"I am a very unfeeling woman, Mr. Kohli. Nothing bothers me ever." Anmol gazed into the flowing water, and her expression held such tranquility, Virat knew she was speaking the truth.

"I think, it's very admirable. Not being bothered by anyone. Ever." He peered into the water too.

Anmol nodded in agreement. "I think, it's also very lonely. But still better than being crushed under the weight of expectations from the people you admire and care about."

"I used to be like you. Then I came to this city, and got my heart stolen by a woman who made me realize it's better to feel pain than nothing at all. The emptiness and numbness bring tremendous interior discomfort which you never realize. Have you ever lost someone you loved?"

"I lost the only person I ever loved." her eyes hadn't moistened, but he could hear the fragility in her voice.

"Your mother," Virat filled the gap for her.

She gave him a mocking stare, and Virat felt too scrutinized under it. "You have done your homework well." 

"I asked about you only after I met you." 

She rose her eyebrows, followed by narrowing her eyes at him. "I shouldn't have kissed you that night."

"It was barely a kiss." Virat bit the inside of his cheek.

"It was a caress of lips, and I did feel desire for you. It was a kiss for me."

"It wasn't a proper kiss, Anmol."

She gave him a questioning glance. "How does a proper kiss feel then?"

"A proper kiss, Anmol, should turn you inside out. It should slice right down through you like a cutlass with a pleasure so devastating it's very nearly pain. And it should at least promise, the most intense physical pleasure you've ever known, regardless of whether that promise is ever, ever fulfilled. It should, in fact haunt you for the rest of your life."

It was her turn to feel breathless and the same discomfiture which he had been feeling ever since they met. She placed one hand at her throat, and peered at him with suspicion and caution. "I have no wish to be haunted. I think you feel much better, I should leave you to your own devices and thoughts."

Virat stared at her when she got up. He got up too, in order to escort her back to the party but she raised a hand. "I don't need you to escort me. I can find my own way."

He shrugged. The woman carried a knife in her boots for heaven's sake. He shouldn't be worried. His gaze followed her as she traversed through the forested path. He felt serenity; he was supposed to find a star but found a storm instead, and it was walking away.

He shifted his gaze back to the water and stared into the oblivion for some time until he heard a gunshot that broke the peaceful spell.