Everyone Has a Story 2

by Savi Sharma

  ‘I know this is something you have wanted,’ she said slowly. ‘I always knew you wanted to rebuild, but I don’t think I realised that I was scared of the idea until now when it looks like it could become a reality again.’

  I reached out to put my arm around her. ‘I didn’t realise it was at the back of your mind,’ I responded gently. ‘I can’t imagine what you must have gone through when I was injured.’

  She nodded. ‘What you say makes sense, Kabir. I know we will be more careful this time. There is something else to think about. The timing.’

  My brow furrowed in question. ‘I don’t think the timing could be better. We are turning a very good, steady profit now.’

  ‘I know that we are,’ she said. ‘But don’t forget that the semester will be ending next week. That booming business you have . . . it is probably going to fall off quite a bit.’

  I thought about it. ‘That is a valid point,’ I said. ‘But one of the reasons we chose these specific locations is because they are near the largest schools and colleges in Pune. Yes, I’m sure business will fall off a little bit since this is the last semester, but don’t forget campuses use that time for conferences and other events. I really don’t think we’re going to see as much of a drop in business as we did.’

  ‘That is true,’ Nisha mused. ‘On the other hand, with this being the lightest time of year for educational institutions, this is probably the best time to plan and build, right?’

  I loved the way this woman thought. Of the two of us, she was the more cautious one, but it only meant that she thought things over when I might tend to leap first and ask questions later. We truly balanced each other perfectly. ‘I didn’t even think of that,’ I admitted.

  She nudged me. ‘Well, this is why you keep me around, right?’

  ‘One of the many reasons,’ I said sincerely. ‘Let’s go home and start thinking about where we want to locate the new and improved Kafe Kabir.’

  31

  MEERA

  The end.

  I typed out those six letters and sat back in my chair. That was it, the story was complete. Of course, there would be edits, and some areas would still need to be fleshed out. But my new manuscript, once it started, practically wrote itself. I was only wielding the instrument as it took on a life of its own.

  I was aware of a dull ache in my neck. How long had I been sitting there? I reached over for my cup of cappuccino, only to realise it was cold. . . and completely untouched. I smiled to myself. As this book was being written, countless cups of cappuccino suffered from my inattention. I craned my neck and rubbed at the ache, trying to tease the knot out of the muscle while it was just a nuisance and not a full-blown stiff neck.

  A bath would help, I decided. To be honest, I couldn’t remember if I had taken a shower that morning, and I definitely couldn’t remember the last time I had soaked in a nice hot bath. It was time to take care of this body a little bit.

  Before I slipped into the bath though, I called Vivaan.

  ‘Hey,’ he said when he answered the phone. ‘You are emerging from your cave at last?’

  I laughed and took in a deep, cleansing breath. ‘It’s done.’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ I heard a shuffling on the other end and I pictured him sitting up a little straighter, holding the phone in his hand instead of cradling it under his shoulder while he half talked, half worked. ‘It’s done?’ he repeated.

  ‘Mmm,’ I said happily. ‘I’m going to go take a bath to celebrate. I have a horrible stiff neck.’

  ‘I’m surprised you don’t have a completely stiff body,’ he said dryly. ‘You hardly moved from that chair for the last week and a half.’

  ‘I was on a roll,’ I said. ‘I do believe you know what that’s like now, Mr Blog Extraordinaire.’ Considering our vastly different backgrounds, I truly enjoyed that we had some common ground that we could talk over with each other. Now that he knew how much time and effort went into writing a thousand-word blog, he truly appreciated the time and energy it took to write a book.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. ‘But tell me more . . . it’s really done?’

  ‘Except for the edits,’ I clarified, and he groaned sympathetically.

  ‘When do I get to read it? Tell me you’re not going to make me wait through the editing process!’

  ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’d really like it if you could read it now.’

  ‘I’ll be right over.’

  I loved the man’s enthusiasm. ‘Slow down,’ I urged. ‘Let a girl get a bath first. Can you come over tonight?’

  ‘Absolutely. How about I bring dinner?’

  ‘That would be perfect. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.’

  I left the office and walked back to the kitchen where Aashi was happily looking over some of my writing. She looked up at me and smiled. I gave her a big grin and nodded, confirming that it was done.

  ‘I think you should take the rest of the afternoon off,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind working a little more,’ she said. Ever since she had returned, she was even more dedicated about helping me.

  I hugged her and sang out, ‘Vivaan’s coming over.’

  ‘Oh! And you want a little alone time.’

  I laughed out, delighted once more at the sound coming from my throat. It felt so good to laugh.

  A few minutes later, I stepped into my hot bath, thinking about the manuscript I had just finished. When I started working in my teaching position, the students’ curiosity about the genesis of my first book, ‘Everyone Has a Story’, made my thoughts turn to everything that had happened to the main characters in that book—the four of us—when life started challenging us in unexpected ways.

  We all faced different crises, but just as our lives were intertwined, our reliance on each other brought us closer together as we struggled to overcome those challenges.

  You can get lost on the journey to your goals, but along the way, you find something more important. You find out who you truly are.

  As inspirational as my readers found the first book, and as curious as they were about the characters, I decided that the perfect next step for me would be to write the sequel, detailing our challenges and how fate threatened to destroy our happiness.

  And how we all persevered, through laughter and tears. . . a lot of tears. . . Well, and a lot of laughter too.

  I watched Nisha and Kabir struggling after the fire but also witnessed the two grow closer together than ever before. Now, with ten coffee stands and rebuilding Kafe Kabir, as well as a rambunctious three-year-old, it would stand to reason that they would be too busy for each other. Instead, they continued to carve out time for themselves.

  It was an honour to bear witness to their success, and an even greater honour to be able to write their continued story.

  Then there was Vivaan and me. I thought back to that horrible day when the drug charges were filed against him. Months and months later, Shridhar, Vivaan’s seatmate, was caught with drugs again. Parth heard about it, remembered the name, and had his company’s lawyer take a statement from Shridhar, exonerating Vivaan from any wrongdoing. By then, Vivaan was already rebuilding his name and reputation, but having that piece of paper seemed to help settle that unease that Vivaan felt was plaguing him all those horrible months.

  And I was able to detail that piece of information in my book when I wove in our part into the manuscript.

  The sequel, I decided as I lay in the steaming water, surrounded by decadent bubbles, was the perfect example of staying true to ourselves and keeping an eye on our dreams. Although there were many times when we might have doubted we would get a second chance at those hopes and wishes, we never doubted our abilities.

  I was dressed in a cotton summer dress when Vivaan came over, his arms overflowing with Chinese food. The moment we devoured our meal, Vivaan carefully washed his hands and then eagerly asked to look at the manuscript.

  ‘I printed you a copy, in case you wanted to take it home
tonight,’ I said bashfully. Even after all this time, I still had my shy moments about my writing.

  He gave me a huge smile, tugged the printed copy out of my hand and sat down to read. I wandered into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water while I cleaned up the kitchen. When I returned to the living room twenty minutes later, he barely looked up.

  I sat down and pulled out the book I had been reading before I maniacally started writing the last couple weeks. Every now and then, I would look up, but he kept his eyes on the words in front of him.

  Finally, I started yawning and realised I had gotten up at three-thirty that morning to write. ‘I think I’m going to go to bed,’ I said regretfully. ‘Are you going to head home?’

  He looked up. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to sit here for a while longer.’

  I sat down beside him. ‘Do you like it?’ I asked eagerly.

  With huge eyes, he nodded soberly. ‘It’s amazing,’ he said. I went to kiss him again but a yawn escaped my lips. ‘Go to bed,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll lock the door behind me when I leave.’

  ‘Okay,’ I agreed and half walked, half staggered to the bedroom.

  The room was completely dark when I heard my bedroom door open. ‘Vivaan?’ I asked sleepily.

  ‘Yeah,’ he responded softly.

  ‘What time is it?’

  He laughed lowly. ‘It’s about four in the morning.’

  Wide awake now, I sat up in bed. ‘You’re still here?’

  The mattress sagged as he sat beside me. ‘I couldn’t stop reading your book. It was . . . amazing. How you captured all those emotions of what happened to us. I’m in awe of you,’ he said and wrapped his arms around me.

  We talked for a while and fell asleep together. When I woke up a couple hours later, I opened my eyes to take in his grinning face.

  ‘I can’t wait to get your book out there,’ he said eagerly.

  I sighed. ‘One problem. I still don’t have a publisher.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ Vivaan said. ‘Let’s go make some coffee and I’ll explain.’

  Together we wandered into the kitchen. ‘Sit,’ he ordered and began bustling around to make coffee for us. It wasn’t Kafe Kabir coffee, but our friend had shown us enough tricks of the trade so we could both manage a half decent cup.

  ‘So tell me what you’re thinking,’ I prompted.

  ‘Well,’ he began, ‘remember when I told you someone asked me if I could put my blog articles into a full book form and publish it myself?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I started to look into it a bit. I’m still not sure that’s the best solution for me, but, Meera, I think it’s a good idea for you.’

  ‘Me? Self-publish?’ I asked incredulously. ‘It never really occurred to me before.’

  ‘I think it’s a fantastic idea. I mean, look at your fan base. Just your students alone have you on this pedestal—a well-deserved one, I might add—and they are only a select group. You have so many followers . . . they don’t care where the next book comes from, they just want to read it!’

  I thought about it through several sips of my coffee. ‘That just might work,’ I said.

  ‘I think it would.’ He threw his arms wide in emphasis. ‘I know it will! Do you remember Pari telling us during our last trip to Goa that she had a friend who was an artist? That woman had created a bunch of book covers. . . we could contact her, and I bet she would have some ideas of who else we could go to help us get this self-published.’

  I looked at him, simultaneously touched and amazed by his excitement. ‘You are an incredibly wonderful man, you know it?’

  He stood up and pulled me into a tight embrace. ‘I am everything I can be to make you love me,’ he said. ‘The person I am, Meera, is because of you. Because of your love, because of your support. When I think about how easily you could have turned your back on me last year when I was accused of possessing drugs. . .’

  ‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘I would never, ever turn my back on you Vivaan. You are the other part of my soul. Everybody is challenged at some point in their life and we were no different. We learned a very valuable lesson through all that. When we turned to each other instead of turning inward to nurse our own hurt hearts, we gave each other the strength we needed.’

  With Vivaan’s idea, I knew my book was going to come to fruition even quicker than we could even imagine. It was amazing to think that when fate intervened, how rapidly life could change. And this time, it was definitely for the better.

  EPILOGUE

  FATE

  You didn’t expect to see me again, did you?

  I know, I know. You didn’t like me for a long time . . . but come on, life gets boring. People take advantage of the good times and they really don’t stop to appreciate them like they should.

  I just . . . spice things up a little bit.

  Vivaan finished training his replacement and left Yaadein, but kept his stock options. Parth was very grateful that he stayed as long as he did to make sure the transition went smoothly, but his replacement is quite a capable young woman. I think she’d make a great partner for him in many ways. . .

  As Vivaan’s popularity grew, he had to hire a digital marketing assistant, kind of a male version of Aashi, but with more technical prowess. Vivaan was more than happy to have an assistant so he could be on hand while Meera was doing her book tours. As he predicted, her book was widely successful, topping the bestseller list in a matter of days. And those publishers that turned their backs on her before? Now they’re lining up to capture her attention.

  Not only are there publishers calling her all the time, but Bollywood has been knocking on her door, too, so to speak. With Vivaan by her side, she has spoken to a few of them but hasn’t made any decision yet on the movie rights.

  Speaking of spicing things up, I got a front-row seat when Kafe Kabir was reopened. Of course, Meera and Vivaan were there with Kabir and Nisha while they celebrated the grand opening of the café. I really thought they did a very tasteful job of pulling in some of the elements from the old café, like the comfortable white leather seats in the corner while making this one different at the same time.

  You’ll be happy to know that I nudged one of the best electricians in the city towards one of Kabir’s coffee stalls. After meeting Kabir, he cleared his calendar to make sure he could do the electrical work on the new building.

  You can’t see me, but I’m in the chair right across from Meera and Vivaan.

  Waiting.

  For what, you may ask. What could possibly keep fate waiting?

  A few things, really. I do have a tendency to nudge things along.

  But there are a few times in a person’s life when I do like to sit back and wait for things to happen on their own. It must be the romantic in me.

  ‘I’m tired of fighting,’ Meera starts with a little sigh.

  Oh, I know where this is going. This is going to be good.

  Vivaan looks at her like she has just sprouted another head. ‘Fighting? We’re not fighting!’

  ‘Yes,’ she responds. ‘You and I have been fighting a battle of sorts for many years. First, we struggled to get to know each other, even though we were haunted by the past. Then, you and I did battle, not with each other, but with the things that held us back from realizing our dreams. You had to leave your position as a banker to finally make your dream come true to travel. And I needed to fight my insecurities and gain confidence in my writing.’

  ‘That is true.’

  ‘Then, there was the terrible year last year when everything seemed to be coming together for us but fate. . .’ She spits out my name bitterly. Ouch . ‘Fate decided to mess things up for us and pushed our dreams off track.’

  ‘But we kept fighting,’ Vivaan says.

  ‘We did. Our strength was that we knew our love and our dreams were worth fighting for.’

  She reaches out to hold Vivaan’s hands. ‘They were that day and they still are n
ow.’ Vivaan starts to say something but Meera shushes him. ‘One special thing happened last year, though. It happened right before things went crazy in our lives.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘You took me to that amazing restaurant and then you asked me to think about the possibility of marrying you.’

  He nods softly and a smile begins to bloom on his face. ‘I remember.’

  ‘I didn’t handle it very well then,’ she admits. ‘But I’m ready to bring up the subject again.’

  ‘You’re ready to talk about marriage?’ Vivaan asks happily.

  ‘No,’ she says.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ And with that, she drops to her knee and the words rush out of her. ‘I’m not ready to talk about it. I’m ready to do it. Vivaan.’ She stops and kisses his hand. ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my husband? We love each other, and we bring our own complexities to the table. That isn’t going to make for a boring life together, but a unique, adventurous one.’

  By then, everyone in the café has turned to them. I can hear the soft clicks of cell phone cameras being snapped.

  Meera looks up at him expectantly before he bursts out with a ‘YES!’ that echoes through the stones around them. Meera jumps to her feet, throws her arms around him, and the two start laughing and crying at the same time.

  ‘Why here?’ Vivaan asks, tears of happiness beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes.

  ‘At Kafe Kabir? Because it’s where everything started for us. It might not be the same place, but in a way, it is, with our friends around us.’

  Right on cue, Kabir and Nisha make their way over and the four exchange hugs. Then, Meera falls into his arms once more, laughing before they share another long kiss. And then another.

  Between kisses, Meera pulls back with a mock serious look on her face. ‘I don’t have a ring for you, though.’

  And with that, Vivaan pulls out his wallet where he has a gorgeous engagement ring stashed. ‘I do,’ he says happily and slips it on to her finger before the couple embraces once more to happy applause.