The only thing that mattered to me was to get away as fast as that house and those shouts.
The sea is rough, but the sound of the waves cannot hide the voice that echoes in my head.
Rishabh.
It seems impossible that the same person who seems too reserved to even look me in the eyes is the same one that has yelled at Megha in that way.
Well, obviously I was wrong to judge him.
Just as I was wrong when I thought I could stay with him.
Just as I was wrong when I hoped he really wanted to keep me with him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The card with the telephone number of Mc Abby is in the pocket of my jeans.
A phone call would be enough. I could go back to the village, look for a phone booth, go to the police station. Harry is a cop, his job is to help me. It does not matter that he is slippery, and the mere idea of ??finding myself in a room alone with him put me chills.
I was wrong about Rishabh, I may be wrong about him too.
Uncle and Megha were nice, but it cannot work. Rishabh is their family, and I'm not going to get in the way or cause problems. From the words of uncle, I can imagine they have already been through a lot, too. I will not be another complication for them.
I take out the card of Harry from my pocket, moving in my hands. It's funny how a small piece of paper may seem so bulky. It would be so easy to let it slip on the sand, forget I ever had it. It would be easy to stand up, and go back to that house. To comfort me from the words of uncle, by happiness of Megha.
But I cannot.
The last few hours it was a pleasant illusion, but the time has come to acknowledge the reality: I'm alone.
I am alone, and I have to get by on my own.
I clench my fists around the sleeves of my sweatshirt, trying to stop the tears that have become an annoying and constant presence now. I feel the card of Harry curl in my hand, and squeeze even stronger, knowing that that piece of paper is all that remains of my strength.
The beach is deserted. Only a day ago, on this same beach the lighthouse keeper and her cousin found a girl unconscious, and saved her.
And now the girl will have to find a way to save itself.
Two seagulls landing in front of me, leaving small footprints in the sand that are immediately erased by the waves.
"May I sit down?"
The voice behind me comes without warning and leaves me breathless for a few seconds. I should answer, but I'm afraid that from my lips, instead of the voice can only go out a strangled sob.
I just make a sign with my head, not looking either at him. I cannot risk to look at him.
If I saw his eyes ... I lose in that green, and the last thing I need right now.
I must be strong. I do not need to call me Radz, I do not need chamomile in the middle of the night, I do not need reassuring words or bags full of clothes.
I can be strong. I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping them with my arms. The ticket of Harry is still tight in my fist, and reminds me that I have a choice.
I can be strong, and I will.
"You're cold," he says, and it is not a question, it's a fact.
Yes, I'm cold. The wind is strengthening, and his scent so close does not help in getting the chills that go through the body. I remain silent, staring horizon. With the corner of my eye I can see his shoes and legs covered by jeans. He is sitting in a position similar to mine, but his hands are playing with white sand. It is physically exhausting not to turn around, do not look at his face.
It is physically painful to remember his shout and his angry words.
"My parents died when I was eighteen."
Rishabh's voice is so low that even the sound of the waves can hardly overcome it. Speak slowly, enunciating the words, almost as if it were tiring bring them out, almost as if they were blades on his tongue.
His parents died when he was just a boy.
What I can say, after such a statement?
"Oh, I'm sorry Rishabh." "Oh, what a terrible tragedy."
All words seem so empty, so useless.
I remain silent, waiting for him to keep talking. Hoping to do it.
"I look like my mother very much, you know? Same hair, same eyes, same skin. Uncle always say that I also have her character, but it is not true, unfortunately. She was always so happy, so excited. So alive. Quite the opposite of me, then. "A bitter chuckle accompany the last words.
"I think subconsciously he just want a way to feel closer to her sister."
So Rishabh's mother was the sister of uncle. That's what he meant when he told me that he had already lost too many people he loved.
"I remember my father often joked about having doubts about my true paternity, given how little I had of him. But I know it was just a way to make fun of her. I never face two people love each other more than they do. "
Rishabh's voice is quieter now. I cannot see his face, but I can hear the smile caressing his words. This is the first time I've heard him speak so much, and I like it. More than lawful, probably. His warm voice around me like a blanket, it relaxes me.
"My mother ... My mother's name was Radha, but everyone called her Radz. "
My head moves toward him before I had time to figure out what is wrong as a choice. Wrong, because when I see him staring horizon, green eyes and shiny, even brighter than usual, and hands that shake the sand as if it were their last foothold, the only thing I want to do is drop the ticket of Harry and tighten those hands in mine.
And it is wrong.
For several minutes neither spoke. There comes a time when watching him again becomes too difficult and look back on the waves which have now come to lick the tips of our shoes.
I'm looking for something to say that is not incredibly stupid or incredibly obvious, but Rishabh once again ahead of me, and began to speak again.
"I'm sorry I reacted that way, but ... Megha. Well, let's say I was taken aback. I have nothing against you, absolutely nothing, and Radz is really a name that looks good on you. "
Intrigued by his words I turned back to him, to find out how is looking at me and his lips are curved in a faint smile. His eyes are kind, but his gaze was too intense, too difficult to sustain. Few seconds, and I'm forced to divert him.
"What happened to you ... I'm really sorry ... Radz" the name, it is now being used to call me, is accompanied by a deep sigh, but I cannot help but adore him. I love a name that is not mine, I love the fact that he is calling me by that name, and I give myself a hundred times the stupid for that.
"You can stay here as long as you want, but ... we cannot be friends. It's not your fault, it's my fault. I'm sorry, I cannot. "
This time I do not need to look for something to say.
The only word that can give voice to my questions, because it is on my lips even before my brain can think.
But not fast enough: Rishabh has already left, and my voice is heard and taken away only by the waves.
My hand still holding the card of Harry. I open it, and the piece of paper fly with a gust of wind. I do not chase though. I do not try to pick it up.
Now I know what to do.
***
As I reach the lighthouse, after a few minutes, I cannot even open the door completely before being literally overwhelmed by Megha. She squeezes strong and continues to apologize to me, her voice still broken by tears. It takes several minutes to calm her down, and it seems impossible to make her understand that she has nothing to apologize to me. I'm about to give up when my words are interrupted by the voice of Rishabh.
"Megha, if you do not let go of the poor Radz will suffocate."
The smile that draws Megha's face is huge and contagious, and in a second I find myself free from the death grip, just to be able to see her running into the arms of Rishabh, who returned the gesture of affection so awkward and adorable.
The two make their way into the kitchen, leaving me alone at the entrance with uncle, who smiles at me kindly.
"Are you okay?"
I do not know how many times he asked me that in the last twenty-four hours. Yet, his concern seems to always sincere genuine.
I nod, and try the courage and the right words to tell him what is inevitably in my head when Rishabh told me about his mother.
"Uncle, Rishabh told me about his mother ... Your sister ... I'm so sorry ... I do not want the name to be a problem for you ... "God, I'm ridiculous. I cannot even put together a meaningful sentence. Ridiculous.
"Rishabh told you about Radha Di? Really? "
It is impossible not to recognize the hope, the emotion that colors his words.
It takes so little to make uncle hope ? For Rishabh is so difficult to confide in that even a small hint of a stranger is enough to kindle hope?
"Yes," I replied, nodding, a small voice in my throat. "He told me that his parents died when he was eighteen, and Rada ji was your sister."
"It is true, unfortunately. After that tragedy, Rishabh was not the same. None of us was more of the same, of course, but he was never able to recover. And talk to you ... I know that to you do not seem much, but knowing him, it has must have been a huge step for him. Do not be fooled by the ugly words he shouted before, or by his appearance. Rishabh is a special person. "
It is the first time that Uncle mentions the scar of Rishabh. Should I be honest and tell him that the only problem about the face of Rishabh is my sick, unexplained but most insane urge to stroke it?
Should I tell him that every time he look away or move away from me it hurts more than when I try to remember something and failed miserably?
"He told me that we cannot be friends."
From the kitchen came the voices of Rishabh and Megha, who are just putting together lunch. They are the ones who give me the courage to speak: this is definitely not a conversation I want they hear.
"Radz, would you do me a favor?"
I do not know whether that's calling me Radz, or that his smile is able to put me instantly at ease, or whether it is because his fatherly tone is affectionate and reassuring, but I find myself nodding automatically, before I even know what wants to ask.
"Do not listen to him."
At that moment Megha calls us to the table. And I thank the timing, because I would not know really what to say.
Do not listen to him? What does this mean? I have to force him to talk to me?
You know Rishabh, you told me that we cannot be friends, but I decided that I do not care what you think.
No. I'm sorry uncle, but I cannot. After all, Hum Aapke Hai Kaun?
I do not have the card of Harry in my hand, but I know what I must do.
Lunch passes quietly. Megha has prepared a really good pasta and Rishabh helped with the salad. The kitchen is very small and simple, narrow table, but I feel strangely at ease.
And when Megha asks me to pass water, I am very surprised by the ease with which I answer to my new name.
"Radz, I cannot get to the jug, you pass it to me?"
I do not need to think about it.
When I hear Radz is automatic for me to look up. Uncle smiled at me, as always. Megha pretends not to notice, but the satisfied grin that was printed on the face is hard to ignore.
Rishabh looks at me instead, simply. No, not looking at me, staring at me. He stares at me in a way that embarrasses me, that makes me feel naked, that makes me blush and beat my heart. He stares at me as if to say something, and instead remain silent. He fixed in a way that is hard to ignore, and doing so makes everything more difficult.
Once put in order the table and made dishes, uncle and Rishabh go away: the first reaches his wife in the country, the second leaves the house, saying that he had work to do.
This leaves me and Megha alone, and I could not ask for better.
We move into the living room, which I think is the biggest room in the house. One of the walls of the room is entirely occupied by a large library of wood, packed with books. Rishabh must read a lot. On the opposite wall there is a fireplace off, and before it two old sofas. On one of them are placed in a corner, a blanket and a pillow, and a sense of guilt in the realization that while I slept comfortably in his bed, Rishabh sleep on the couch, is immediate.
Another reminder, just in case I had forgotten the right choice to make.
There is also a guitar. Rishabh plays the guitar? I wish I had the opportunity to hear him. Maybe one day ...
"So, what are you doing? We can watch a movie, make a cake ... Do you want to fix your stuff in the room of Rishabh? "
Here you are. It's time to do the right thing.
"Megha, I do not want to stay here. I want to come and stay with you. "
Anupamaa
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon
