In Love With The Spirit

Shit, I had completely forgotten about the interview.

"Oh, yes."

I quickly and discreetly started the recorder hidden in my purse and opened my folder. You never know what you might miss. I read the questions again, vainly hoping they had somehow improved in the interval. But they were still just as bad – insensitive questions about his son, and his philandering activities from before the coma. I made up some of my own on the go.

"You have been running this huge empire for a very long time; who or what would you attribute your success to?" And then, "What are your plans for the consistently sinking stock prices?"

We discussed the future of the business, and I even brought up the dreaded successor question, which was all the more painful since his sole heir was lying in a coma.

He was an extremely smart man, generous with his answers, and extremely kind. We spent three hours going over the questions, and even after that, I was reluctant to take his leave.

When we were leaving, Armaan tried once again to hug his father, but it was hopeless.

I couldn't help remarking to Mr. Oberoi, "Sir, I know he didn't always show it, but he loves you and his mother very much."

He looked surprised, but smiled sadly.

"I wish he knew how much I loved him."

"Trust me, sir, he knows."

His head shot up at that.

"Did he ever tell you that?"

I hedged, realizing this discussion was more complex than I'd thought.

"Not explicitly, but some things don't need words to be explained."

His eyes unexpectedly filled with tears and he quickly walked forward to hug me.

"You have no idea what you have given this old man today."

I patted his back awkwardly, and he continued. "It is a shame he kept you hidden all these years. He must have really loved you."

I couldn't stop a sigh.

"We were just friends, sir."

He caught the regret in my voice, and a big smile spread across his face.

"Are you in love with him?"

"I don't know sir." I purposely avoided Armaan's eyes.

"You do; I can see that. You love him very much."

His words certainty shook me. I had barely known him for a day. Could it be possible that I was already falling in love with him?

"It's not important, sir. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes, yes there is. Would it be okay if I call you sometime and we can talk about Armaan some more?"

My smile was genuine.

"I would love to."

"Bless you, my child, bless you." I could see he really meant it.

I murmured a thank you and took his leave.

Once away from his father, Armaan spoke. "That went quite well. You will be a rockstar in your office." He sounded genuinely happy for me, but the misery on his face couldn't be hidden. How terrible it must be, to see your parents suffer so. I wished I could trade lives with him.

"I'm so sorry, Armaan," I sniffed.

"Amrita! Don't be silly." He hugged me, "I am so thankful to you; you made him smile today."

I had nothing to say to him, so I just walked to the car and got in.

"Office or home, madam?" The driver asked.

I deliberated for a moment, knowing I didn't want to go to either place.

"Would it be possible to go into the city? I have some important work there."

"Amrita, you're going straight home." Armaan ordered.

"We can, madam, but at this hour, it would take about three hours."

"Amrita," Armaan said angrily, "Listen to me. Go home."

Such a spoiled, stubborn brat. I gave up.

"Alright then, take me home."