Chapter 3: Secrets, Samosas, and Suspicion

When Priya and I got to the food stall, Amit was already there. As soon as he saw us, he jumped up.

He hugged me so hard, my glasses almost fell off. “Oye, Kabir! Itna smart kaise ho gaya re?”

“Arrey Kabir! Not bad! Where’d you find such a gorgeous girlfriend?”

He waggled his eyebrows at Priya, making her laugh. I shot him a look—control, bhai.

I quickly explained to Priya that this was my childhood buddy, a good guy—just a little blunt, so don’t mind him. “Bhai, Amit hai, thoda pagal hai, par dil se bindaas.” Priya grinned and nodded. She seemed to get it.

But inside, I gave Amit a big thumbs up. He knew exactly what to say. His eyes sparkled—he was enjoying this almost as much as I was. He really gets me—my bro! We shared a quick fist bump under the table. Old habits die hard.

Priya smiled and greeted him. She said, “Nice to meet you, Amit. Kabir has told me so much about you.” Amit preened, “Arrey, sirf achha hi bola hoga!”

Amit saw my look and immediately opened a few bottles of beer. He signaled to the waiter, “Bhaiya, teen beer laana! Bhabhi ke liye bhi.” The old waiter grinned. It was that kind of night.

“Bhabhi, first time meeting you, I’ll toast you! Got any cute friends? Introduce one to me, or I’ll feel bad hanging out with Kabir when you two are always together.”

He winked at Priya, who rolled her eyes, but laughed. “Amit, pehle insaan bano, phir friend milegi!” she shot back.

Priya giggled and toasted him back. She raised her glass, “Cheers, Amit. Friends toh mil jayenge, pehle tum mujhe impress karo!” The ice was broken.

At first, I pretended to scold Amit for scaring her, but soon, with him calling her ‘bhabhi’ over and over, everyone just rolled with it. Amit kept up the bhabhi-jokes, and soon even the waiter was calling her "bhabhi ji." I groaned, but Priya was a sport.

We ate and drank for four hours. The table overflowed with chowmein, fried rice, oily manchurian, and half a dozen plates of pakoras. Laughter echoed as we swapped stories of our school days and all the silly mistakes we’d made growing up.

It’d been a year since I’d seen Amit, and he’d played perfect wingman, so I was in a great mood and couldn’t stop talking. I was loud, animated—Priya kept glancing at me, half embarrassed, half amused. Amit kept egging me on, his own cheeks red from the beer.

Luckily, Priya didn’t get bored—she fit right in. She teased Amit about his taste in music, and he pretended to sulk, only to burst into song a minute later. I’d never felt luckier.

By the end, both Amit and I were hammered. We started singing old Bollywood numbers at the top of our lungs. The aunty at the next table scolded us, but we only laughed harder.

I even got a bit handsy without realising it. My hand crept onto Priya’s shoulder, and she leaned in, whispering something I couldn’t quite catch. I felt like the king of the world.

Priya didn’t push my arm off her shoulder. She just smiled, her hand resting lightly on mine. The world seemed to slow down, and I wished the night would never end.

At some point, someone brought up the layoffs. It was probably Amit, slurring his words, “Arrey, office band ho gaya na?”

Amit said our boss was really generous—most real estate companies are struggling, but ours still gave out fat severance. He waved his bottle, “Bhai, tumhare boss toh king nikle! Kaun deta hai itna paisa aajkal?”

I said, “What do you know? Do you even know why our project stopped? They found something insane at the site.” I puffed up, feeling reckless, proud. Priya’s eyes widened, and I missed the warning in her gaze.

Right then, I felt Priya’s shoulder stiffen. She stopped smiling, her lips pressed together. Amit leaned in, eager for gossip. Both of them stared at me. “What did they find?” Amit’s voice was hushed, as if we were discussing a murder.

I was feeling cocky and just blurted it out:

“Gold. So much gold you couldn’t count it all.”

I threw up my hands for dramatic effect, nearly knocking over a glass. Priya stared at me, her face unreadable.

I honestly can’t remember what else we talked about—my brain was mush. I remember Amit cracking some dirty jokes, Priya giggling, and the world spinning gently. The rest is a blur.

I just remember that not long after, we called it a night. Amit patted me on the back, “Bhai, aaj ka din yaad rahega!” Priya hailed an auto, and we stumbled off into the night.

But that night, Priya didn’t go home. She told the auto driver to head to a nearby hotel. I barely registered her words, too busy humming an old Kishore Kumar song.

She said I was too drunk, so she took me to a hotel. She booked a room with the kind of efficiency only city girls have. I must have looked ridiculous, leaning against the check-in counter, grinning stupidly.

My mind was already on her, both excited and nervous. The anticipation buzzed through me. My shirt was untucked, my hair a mess, but I didn’t care. Could tonight be the night?

I tried to play it cool, but my hands shook as I swiped my card at the reception. Tomorrow, I’d have to thank Amit for being such an awesome wingman. In my head, I planned the speech: “Bro, you’re the best! Kabir ki shaadi pakka teri wajah se hogi.”

After a shower, I was impatient as hell. I kept glancing at the door, running a towel through my hair, checking my phone for messages that never came.

Just as I was holding Priya close, she suddenly asked, “How did you know there was gold at the site?”

Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but her grip on my arm was tight.

“Of course I saw it.” I smirked, thinking I was impressing her. “Tumhare Kabir se kuch nahi chupta!”

“How did you see it?” She leaned in, eyes searching mine. “Kabir, seriously, kaise dekha?”

“Heh, I didn’t just see it, I even snuck a piece for myself.” I puffed up my chest, half-bragging, half-drunk. It felt good to let the secret out.

“Huh? Where’s the gold now?” She moved closer, her tone sharp. For the first time, I felt a flicker of doubt.

“Of course it’s at…” I was about to say “home,” but caught myself. Still, the words tumbled out—loose lips, loose fate. The more I talked, the bolder I got. I kept spinning the story, adding details I’d never told anyone. Priya’s eyes never left mine.

Priya’s body was tense, but in the end, she didn’t really resist. We lay side by side, the ceiling fan spinning overhead. She rested her head on my chest, but her thoughts seemed elsewhere.

Afterwards, she asked again where the gold was. She spoke softly, “Kabir, sach batao, kahan hai woh gold?” I was too tired to answer properly.

I was exhausted, mumbled that it was at home, and fell asleep. For a second, my heart skipped—should I really have said that? But the beer made everything feel like a joke. I barely remember drifting off, the last thing I saw was Priya’s face, unreadable in the half-darkness.