AR: Ricochet #2 [Chapter 10 - Page 50 // ON HOLD] - Page 35

Chapter 10: Enouement

Enouement. n. the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world—who your baby sister would become, what your friends would end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you'd lose the people you took for granted—which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn't already made the journey, as if there was some part of you who had volunteered to stay behind, who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, who was still eagerly awaiting news from the front.

Malik Associates, New York City, Present

She's sitting in her cabin, head tipped back in fatigue. The day has been packed so far; she's met with the plumbers and the electricians and the masons and what feels like everyone and their fcuking brother. She can't believe she has to supervise all of them. Armaan had been present at the meetings, sitting beside her, silent except for a few inputs here and there.

Stretching a bit, she gets up and checks with Tracy if she has any appointments. Seeing that she doesn't, she thinks she might go home and work some more on the designs and maybe do a little brainstorming on the interiors for the Chavez'.

She's gathered her stuff and is about to leave when her phone rings. Huffing, she looks in her purse for it and is surprised to see that it's Arjun.

"Arjun? Hey man, what's up?"

"Is there a place where we can talk?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course. It's about you, actually."

"Me? What is it?"

"Can we meet up?"

"I was just leaving, actually, for home."

"Great. I'll pick you up at your office in five and we can talk while I drop you home. Sound good?"

"Perfect. I'll see you."

"Great. Bye!"

She's more than a little thrown off by the sudden urgency and she's about to make her way down the elevator when she's intercepted by him.

"Riddhima! Hey!"

It still stings a little, seeing him, although he's obviously trying hard to make amends. It's just that she can't quite forgive him, not just yet. She needs time to hate on him first, as immature as that sounds.

"Hi, Armaan." She responds, carefully.

"Uh, you're leaving? I was um, hoping we could have lunch? Late lunch because it's almost four but um," and he trails off, looking hopefully at her with earnest, pleading blue eyes and how is that even fair. He's not supposed to make her feel guilty.

"I, uh, I have to meet a friend, right now. He's, uh probably waiting for me, downstairs so." She makes an aborted motion with her hand, hating this awkwardness. She makes the mistake of looking into his eyes and he looks crushed for a moment before he composes himself and smiles at her, small and sad.

"That's okay, some other time."

And he's about to leave and she can tell she's going to regret this the moment she opens her mouth, "Armaan?"

"Yeah?" she tries (and fails) to pretend that he doesn't sound hopeful.

"Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow?"

Okay she's absolutely not floored by his blinding smile, no. Just, no.

"Okay."

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"So. Here I am!"

They're in Arjun's car, having just left from Malik Associates where he'd picked her up.

"I'm gonna get straight to the point."

"Okay?" she's more than a little confused now.

"Ishaan told me about you thinking of going for therapy?"

"Yes, I plan to. Why?"

"He uh, told me you were waiting to convince yourself?"

"Yeah. I am. I don't see where this is going."

"Don't. Don't wait. You and I? We're a lot alike. In dealing with problems if not anything else. You with me?"

"Yeah. I don't get-"

"We're too proud," he cuts in. "We're too proud to ask for help. You'll never convince yourself in time."

"I will."

"No. You won't. You've spent twenty seven years being independent and never asking for help; believe me when I say this is no different."

And she doesn't know what to say to that because somewhere she knows he's right, she'll never ask for help she has too much pride.

"But I need, I need to do this," and her voice is a broken whisper because that's how she feels these days, lost and broken and in pieces, helpless because she needs a therapist to patch her up.

"Why?" his question cuts across her thought and she looks at him, face ashen.

"Because, because I have to, I just-I have to."

"Why do you have to, Riddhima?"

"Because I'm fcuking sick of feeling like this, that's why! I feel like I'm out of control, constantly spiraling downwards and I'm losing my mind because I cannot deal with being out of control. I need to know I have control over this one thing, I need it."

"But you already know you won't do it. So what's the point?"

"I'll know I'll have TRIED." And she's all but shouting, her cheeks suffused with anger and eyes a little hysterical around the edges.

"And there's the problem isn't it? You can't stand asking for help."

"Maybe I can't. SO. WHAT."

He shrugs and continues driving.

She's seething inside, because he can't do this can't make her feel like she's doing something wrong because he's no one, and she- she's been responsible for herself long before she even knew she was doing it. She's too angry to think about this rationally. Had she done so, she'd have known he was playing devil's advocate.

They drive a few blocks in silence. She's just about calmed herself when he breaks the tense silence.

"I'm terrified of fireworks."

"You- what?"

"Fireworks. I'm terrified of them. I hate Fourth of July. I love what it stands for, obviously, but I hate the noises. The first year I came back? I sat in a corner of our bedroom, shaking. It's a trigger for me. PTSD. I'm better now, but I still can't go outside."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She chews on that for a while. He's always seemed so infallible. To think something so little as fireworks was his kryptonite was somewhat hard to believe. And she gets what he's trying to tell her but it's still so hard and she can't seem to stop herself from feeling pathetic when she thinks of asking for help. Because asking for help brings all those feelings back. She remembers how her foster father made her feel. Like she was a little piece of shit, sometimes he called her a wh**e when he was drunk and she doesn't know how she kept herself sane enough to pass school and get into the best university because she has zero self esteem, it'd been shattered to smithereens when she was emotionally abused by someone she loved and trusted, dammit, and she swallows dryly, eyes blinking furiously to will the tears away.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she looks sideways at him.

"So if you're right, what do I do now?"

"You tell someone to come with you to the therapist. To pick you up from there because sometimes the session will leave you drained. You tell them to make sure you go in and get help."

They're at her house and he turns into the driveway, parking the car and getting out; walking her to the door.

She's at the doorstep and she's stalling, trying to find words for what she wants to say. He looks at her with a mixture of understanding and fondness and there's a sort of kinship here, bonding over past problems and all that and it makes her eyes prick a little bit. She clears her throat and decides to go for it.

"Will you, uh- will you come with me? For therapy?"

His eyes are unreadable and she thinks she's overstepped in some way when he smiles and pulls her into a hug.

"I'd be honored. Do you have a therapist in mind?"

She pulls back smiling sheepishly. "Not really. I can look for one though."

"If you want, I can give you my therapist's number, he's excellent. If that's okay with you."

"That's perfect. I'll take the first appointment I can get."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll see you, then."

"Sure. Bye!"

"Hey Arjun?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks man."

"Anytime."

She's about to open the door and step in when he speaks up again.

"I proposed."

She smiles widely, genuinely happy for her friends. "I take it you're engaged now?"

He smiles sheepishly, hand rubbing the nape of his neck. "Yeah."

"I'm happy for you. Both of you. When's the wedding?"

"Not soon. Maybe March, April?"

"You know I'm going to plan it, right?"

"I'm aware," he says, laughing. "Not sure that there is much to plan though. It's going to be small."

"Still. Have you told your parents yet?"

"My parents know, Ishaan's don't. Yet. You know how it is."

"Yeah. Yeah I do." she murmurs.

He looks dejected and a little sans hope so she smiles reassuringly at him. "They'll come around, I promise. They're nice people really."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Okay."

"See you at the therapist's, then. I'll text you the time and day."

"Absolutely."

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She kicks off her shoes and heads to the kitchen for water. It's then that she realizes. Smiling, she texts Arjun.

Thanks for playing devil's advocate – Riddhima

No big deal. No one else would've done it. – Arjun

True. – Riddhima

And it's true, she thinks. The other three loved her too much to do that.

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It's at night, when they're having dinner that she tells them.

"So, I'm planning on starting therapy next week."

"Ridzy, that's amazing!"

"Yeah. Yeah it is." She says, offering a wan smile.

She tells them, then, about Arjun coming to talk to her and about his engagement and that he'll accompany her to therapy sessions. She notices a look flitting across Rahul's face but doesn't know what to make of it, so she lets it go. For now.

It's after dinner and Muskaan's upstairs, getting her stuff ready for the next day when she goes to find Rahul. She hasn't forgotten that look on his face and if there's something Rahul's not okay with, she won't do it. Ever.

She finds him on the recliner spaced out, looking contemplative. Taking a seat beside him, she pins him down with a look asking that look didn't go unnoticed tell me what's up and he sighs, part fond and part exasperated because he can't hide from her worth a shit.

"Nothing, it's fine."

"Seriously? You're going to bullshit me?"

He looks away in resignation, breathing deep before continuing. "Why didn't you want me to come with you for therapy?"

"Rahul, I-"

And maybe he realizes how he sounds because he flushes and gets up, "Nevermind, I don't know why I said that. Goodnight."

"Dammit Rahul, sit down!" she hisses, before forcibly pulling him back and making him face her. "You know why didn't want you to come? Because the entire time I'll be there all you'll think about, is how you never noticed I was being abused. And everytime I'll come back from a session looking drained and tired and moody you'll berate yourself, wishing you'd noticed it and done something. Tell me that's not true and I'll tell Arjun right now that he doesn't need to accompany me."

He's unresponsive but his silence pretty much says it all and she sits there waiting for him to collect his thoughts.

"You're right." He says and she murmurs her agreement. She knows he has issues too, maybe not as many as she does but he has his fair share. She knows he lives in an all encompassing fear of people leaving him because if he wasn't good enough to be kept by his parents what chance does he have with others. She knows that this fear lessens a little bit everyday when he wakes up and sees Muskaan beside him and Riddhima across the hall. She knows. And so she hugs him tight and tells him he's her person and no one will ever replace him not even if she falls in love and gets married and has two point five kids. He'll be her person, always. And she sees him relax although he keeps his face stoic. Dropping a kiss on his temple she wishes him goodnight before going to her room and preparing for the next day. She has one final meeting with everyone to show them the final, final design and to assign them their work and the time when they'll be doing it.

And as much shit she has going on, this feeling of accomplishment is something she's looked forward to all her life because even though she's been designing houses, they've been for friends, for acquaintances and nothing like this. So she revels in the feeling and not even the thought of having a probably awkward lunch with Armaan wears her down.

She sets a reminder on her phone to call the therapist, Dr. Berrenson she mentally collects herself, first thing the next day.

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Her appointment with Dr. Berrenson is set for that day, she's asked for the earliest one and they'd had an empty spot. She's, in equal parts, excited and nervous but she pushes all that to the back of her mind before heading towards her meeting with the people she'll be working with.

Thankfully the building already has electricity and plumbing done, so all she has to do in that area is double check everything and then they can start with the flooring. She makes sure they have the tiles she needs, ready.

She takes one of the company cars and drives to the site where they've already started checking up on the plumbing and electricity. There are a few glitches here and there and so she leaves the guys to their jobs while she sets up her desk near one of the windows. She was going to be here a lot, might as well have her own corner.

They're done with the technical work and they decide to begin work on the flooring after a lunch break. She heads back to her office for lunch. She'd have preferred having takeout there itself but she had promised Armaan lunch. Wiping her face down with a Kleenex she reapplies her lip balm and touches up her kohl before tying her hair into a sensible ponytail and catching a cab.

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Malik Associates, New York City, Present

She texts him her arrival and waits for him in her office. It's a few minutes later, when she's had a glass of water, that he knocks on her door and she invites him in. It's awkward for a few moments, they're just standing and looking at each other and my god, she's really starting to regret this, when he breaks the silence.

"Listen, I'm sorry. Really sorry. You have to know that."

"It's okay."

"It's really not, I was a, a jerk, for lack of a better word."

"Oh I'll give you a better word. You were a dick."

He nods uncomfortably, "I…totally deserved that."

"Yeah, you did."

"Which is why I'm apologizing. With lunch. On the terrace."

She hides a smile at his nervousness and shocks herself when she finds herself leaning towards forgiveness. It's hard to be mad at someone so…earnest.

"I bet you say that to all the girls who call you a dick," she says, throwing a smirk at him.

"You don't know the half of it," he shoots back, smiling with ease, "Follow me?"

"Lead the way."

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They're at the terrace, where he's arranged for a low table and two bean bags and she can't help but smile. She does like it when people make an effort to apologize.

"I'll admit, I'm impressed."

"Oh good. Because this is just the first step in my "How to Be a Dick and Then Apologize" manual. It's unfinished but you get a preview."

"Very cute."

"Yes I am."

"Hilarious."

"Seriously though," and he's facing her now, "I'm sorry."

"I told you; it's okay. I'll probably hold it over your head for a while, but it's okay."

He mock-sighs rather dramatically before retorting, "Remind me to never mess with you."

"Well, you mess with the bulls, you get the horns."

"Breakfast Club, seriously?"

She laughs and shrugs, pleased that he placed the reference.

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"This is nice. Thanks, Armaan."

"Owed it to you, didn't I?"

"That you did. Anyway, what's done is done. Let's talk about something else?"

"Sure."

But that's all he says and she eats a bit of the Pasta wondering what they could talk about without it being awkward.

"Did you have any pets growing up?" he asks and she's grateful for the break in silence.

"No, I didn't. I'm not much of an animal person? Like, I don't hate them, but I don't like them either. Besides; orphanage, remember? You?"

"Oh um, sorry," he says, suitably chastised. "I had a dog, but he died when I was nine. And then I had a Tamagotchi from when I was ten, but that died too. You're familiar with Tamagotchis, right?"

"Yeah, I know about them."

"Okay, so we went on this holiday and I forgot to take him with me and by the time we were back, he'd died. And my god I was inconsolable back then. I knew it was a toy and it was stupid to get this upset but yeah."

She cracks a smile on imagining a younger Armaan. She thinks he must've been gangly and bony, with skinned knees and the thought amuses her more than it should. She thinks about his Tamagotchi and cocks her head to a side, trying to get across what she was attempting to say.

"It's not stupid, actually. It's anything but."

"You're just saying that."

"Well yeah, but – okay do you know the Chinese room theory?"

"No?"

"Okay, see it goes like this. Let's say there's a room. Outside the room, is a Chinese man. Inside the room is an American, who has a Chinese to English dictionary or whatever other material needed to translate Chinese to English. Following me so far?"

'Yes, but-"

"Let me finish. So let's say that the Chinese man writes something in Chinese and pushes it under the door to the American. Now the American, uses whatever material he has to articulate an apt response in Chinese and pushes it back to the Chinese man. So here, the Chinese man is made to think that he's speaking to a fellow Chinese man. But he's not. So basically you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a guy who speaks Chinese and a guy with really good Chinese to English dictionaries. You know?"

"Well yeah, but what does this have to do with my Tamagotchi?"

"Everything. The reason why Tamagotchis are popular, is because they simulate artificial intelligence. They ask to be fed, washed and everything that a human would. So to you, the toy wasn't just a toy. It was something that you had to take care of, constantly. Your responsibility, even. No wonder you were inconsolable, that toy is designed for that."

"Wow. When you put it like that." He responds, smiling.

"I know right? We had a discussion on this back in college and our Professor told us, what I just told you."

"Oh yeah. Cornell, right?"

"Yeah, you?"

"SoCal."

"That was my safety school," she smirks.

"Ouch. Way to make a guy feel inadequate."

"Just kidding, it's a great school."

She finishes with her lunch soon after and takes his leave, feeling much better about the equation between them. She pays a visit to the site to check on everything and works on her plan for a bit, before taking a cab to the nearest gas station and changing into something more comfortable for her appointment with Dr. Berrenson. She's nervous and rightly so. Arjun is supposed to pick her up at the gas station and while she's waiting she grabs a decaf and two bagels, one for her and one for him.

Arjun is there in a bit and she gets into the car, saying hello to him.

"Nervous?" he asks and she laughs because that's the understatement of the century.

"Hey. You'll be okay, don't worry so much."

"Let's hope so. Thanks, again. For doing this."

"It's not a problem. Let's go; we'll be late."

And she's sitting in the car, staring out the window, nervous and scared. Today she will for the first time tell a stranger about her life and the thought pricks her all over, her pride bristling. She always has hated asking for help but she remembers Rahul and Muskaan and their worried faces. She remembers Ishaan, and the furrow in his brow when she told him about this almost a decade ago. She remembers how angry they all are on her behalf. She remembers Arjun and how he played against her weaknesses just to get her to see a shrink and she thinks he reminds her of the way Jay is with Muskaan and with her too. She remembers Smita Aunty and Ravi Uncle and their concerned looks. She recalls Jay and his protectiveness towards Muskaan, Rahul and her. Especially her after he found out the day she woke up after a nightmare.

So she swallows her nervousness because she owes it to herself to do this and if not her then she owes it to all of them, to do this.

"You okay?" she hears Arjun ask and nods. "I will be; thanks."

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