Avinash seethed, his disbelief palpable. "You're really just going to go with her plan?" he spat out. "Don't you have any survival instincts at all?!"

"I'm curious," said Ranveer, shrugging his shoulders. It was more than curiosity. He wanted to scratch an itch he hadn't even realized existed until then. And yet, it was reinforced by years of knowing her, years in which only one person had ever been able to make her act so out of character. Her mother.

The seismic shock of the loss had smashed her world into a million pieces, shattering any trace of the bubbly social butterfly she used to be. Now the only thing left in its place was a vengeful spider that wove webs of schemes and manipulation to attain her desired outcomes. What could be her motive for such an audacious proposition?

"Have you never heard of curiosity killing the cat?" Avinash's scrunched eyebrows made his disdain clear. "There are other ways to quench one's curiosity than to suffer a lifetime of unrequited love and unfulfilled desires, my friend."

Ranveer groaned, shaking his head. "Look, I am not claiming this is the smartest thing to do, Avinash. If anything, I know this is stupid. But I don't want to regret later. Besides, I can always break it off, isn't it?"

Avinash scoffed and a wry chuckle spilled from his lips. "Just because you can, doesn't mean you will. Look at you! You don't want to turn her down now. Imagine breaking it off after knowing her better. After pretending that you are in love with each other."

Ranveer's teeth gritted as his friend raised valid concerns about his relationship. Despite his furious desire to refute them, logic and reason had left him with no choice but to accept the truth. His stomach churned at the thought of living a loveless marriage in misery, his heart burning with an ever-growing resentment for the woman he once loved. His spine shuddered as the realization of what was to come took hold.

Though the fear of regret weighed heavily on his mind, it was not enough to keep him from making a decision which he may come to resent in the future. He wanted to believe that everything would work out as it should and that he could avoid disaster by making this choice, but the fear of being wrong and having to cross that bridge hung constantly over his head.

"Look, I am doing this, with or without your approval, Avinash. Do you want to make it easier or tougher for me?" asked Ranveer, delivering the ultimatum without a flinch.

Avinash stared at his friend for a few moments before letting out a vexed sigh. "Just... remember, Friday and Saturday nights are off for your personal therapist."

Ranveer's lips curled into an anticipatory smirk. He knew that no matter the day or hour, Avinash would answer his calls, however reluctantly at times. He felt immense gratitude for the warmth and security his friend provided in the midst of his icy destitution.

****

"Shouldn't we familiarize ourselves with each other if we want this deception to appear credible?"

Suhani scrutinized Ranveer through the descending veil of her eyelashes. She could feel his eyes watching her as she pretended to be fascinated by the square weave of dishes in front of her. The monotony of the white tablecloth and napkins, the empty glasses, the candelabra base made her swallow hard. Her skin prickled with sweat under the satin blouse, and she debated whether to pull it down from her head, but just then a waiter entered with a tray of desserts and placed a slice of chocolate cake in front of each person on the table.

"Well, there is nothing much to know about me."

Ranveer's right eyebrow shot higher than his left. "What if uncle asks me about your favorites and I stand clueless? He will know we are lying."

Ranveer was stunned by the storm that raged in her eyes, a flurry of emotion that seemed to pass as quickly as it arrived. Her lips were dry and cracked from lack of water, but still managed an eerie smirk as she spoke with a voice like ice. "He wouldn't know any better; even if he did, he'd be wrong anyway."

Ranveer heard the barely perceptible tremor underlying her words, masking a deep sorrow threatening to break through. "He thinks my favorite color is blue," she spat, a bitterness coating her tone. "Just like my mother's favorite color." She paused, and Ranveer felt her anguish in the heavy silence that followed. Her voice cracked, low and desperate as she whispered, "But my favorite color is..."

"Purple."

Suhani's surprised eyes rose from the Alfredo pasta in front of her to the man seated across from her. "How do you know that?"

The edges of Ranveer's lips twitched towards his ears. "Well, you always wear blue for the birthday parties thrown by your father. So that means it must be a gift from your father. But on other occasions, you prefer shades of purple. So, when you have a choice, you choose purple, and therefore that must be your favorite."

Suhani's mouth curved into a slight bow at his keen observation. "You're right." Her torso angled towards the table between them. "I find it creepy, though, that you remember what I wear."

Ranveer's smile faltered and his spine grew stiff. He did not want her to learn about the ardent yearning for her that pulsed through him like blood in a vein. Not only could that push her into a corner, it could also push her away from him, wondering if he had accepted her proposition with an ulterior motive.

He refused to admit that his motives and intentions were in any way impure, but he knew they were far from perfect. A small corner of his heart clung desperately to the hope that his feelings would be returned. But, deep down he was driven by a burning need for clarity, a clarity that only absolution could bring and rid him of his guilt and regret.

"Well, the parties are boring. I keep myself entertained by noticing patterns and playing Sherlock inside my head."

His joke earned a hearty laugh from her. She sounded like the tinkling of laughter in a musical comedy, ringing out from the huge speakers in the neighborhood. His words were close to the truth. He knew how Mr. Shekhawat could not handle his alcohol, but would not want to appear out of place, and would continue to drink. Mrs. Shukla's stoic smile as she continued to nod and chuckle at every WhatsApp forward joke had not escaped his notice.

While he indulged in the mental exercise of attempting to deduce one from their quirks, actions, and choices, she had been the subject that remained unchanged over the years.

"So, tell me, Mr. Sherlock, what else did you learn about me?" she asked, with amusement gleaming in her eyes, garlanded by a darkness that she never bothered to hide.

Her piercing gaze made him shift in his seat and his heart picked a faster pace. "Well, you prefer to listen, and are well-versed with evasion. You drink champagne on occasion, and you always take an extra serving of tiramisu, which is always served in the parties hosted by you or your father."

A warm crimson hue danced over her cheeks and waltzed its way towards her neck at his notice of her indulgence in the decadent dessert. "You like dancing, but you don't like to dance with others."

Suhani's lips parted, and she shook her head in disbelief. "How do you know that?"

Ranveer shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. "You always tap your foot to the music. You only dance with your father, but you always either tap your foot or drum your fingers against the table, or the phone, or whatever."

She speared a piece of the pasta, holding it up with her fork like an Olympic athlete with a torch. "You should have been a detective," she said, digging into the pasta with her fork. She waved the fork back and forth in the air as if conducting a symphony. "We could always use more detectives." She smiled broadly; one dimple appeared on her left cheek and then disappeared again.

Warmth crept to his cheeks. "Some things are better left as hobbies."

Suhani conveyed her approval and nodded in agreement. The ring on her phone distracted her from her plate of pasta. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Same place, uh, after two weeks?"

Fourteen days felt like an eternity. His heart swelled with longing, even as his head nodded in silent agreement. They had just finished their longest conversation ever. He was determined to not let the moment slip away, so he dared not jump into another subject that could unravel all the progress they had

"So sorry. I'll look forward to knowing about you, next time. Bye!" she said, picking her purse after placing the cash for the price of her pasta and raspberry mocktail. Ranveer rose to his feet and bobbed his head. "Sure. Bye!"

The pungent musk of her perfume assaulted his nose, sending a jolt of electricity through his body and racing his heart to catch up. Disappointment took hold as he realized that within two weeks, he would not hear the sultry laughter escaping her lips nor gaze into her ethereal eyes. He felt bereft of the intoxicating connection he had with her and it left an emptiness in his soul.

He yearned for the next week with an intensity that burned in his veins like wildfire, so desperate to catch even a glimpse of her. His longing was so deep that he dared to hope, someday, she would ache for him in the same way.