"Even though they says time helps everything. But I still fucking remember everything. It did not erased the scar that was left. It still hurts." Amaira broke down as she speaks her heart out in front of her friend Satish.

"Why don't you complain to the police then, huh? How many times i have asked you to do that? But you won't listen to me at all. Why?" Satish said being frustrated over his dramatic friend.

It's not the first time Amaira had done this. Whenever she had a breakup with her new boyfriend, she would come to Satish's bar, get drunk and talk about her ex-husband. Not about her boyfriends though.

Everytime she talks about her ex-husband, Satish would just go with the flow and pretend that her husband is still with her. This goes on until three in the morning and she would just sleep at his house. Today is that day.

She broke up with her new boyfriend whom she got to meet through a dating app. They went out for one month but they broke up because the boyfriend is just twenty-three and she is thirty five. They had a long age gap and also they belong from different generations. Ultimately the old lady did not fit into the young boy's generation which led to their parting.

Satish watched his drunk friend, getting angry. After listening to her blabbering about one hour he had enough. He tried to make her lie down in a couch but, there were still customers in the bar which may disturb her sleep. So, he decided to take her to his home in the first floor. He tried to pick her up but couldn't because she was dead sleep. Seeing him struggling with her a guy approached them.

"Can I help you in anyway?" The guy asked.

"I think...I need a little bit of help." He hesitated but agreed.

The guy helped him to carry his friend Amaira to the room upstairs. After tucking her in the bed they both came down.

"Hah!" Satish heaved a sigh. "Thank you, young man for helping me."

"It's okay. I'm glad I'm of help."

"Mn."

"Byt who is she?" The guy asked while sitting on the chair in front of the main counter.

"Oh, she is my friend Amaira." Satish leaned forward to the counter.

"How long have you been friends?"

"Let's see. Um...maybe sixteen years. We met in college."

"Wow, that's so long."

"I know right."

"Are you married?"

This question caught Satish off guard. Seeing his expression change the guy understood the uncomfortable situation he let him in.

He quickly apologized, "Ah, sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have asked."

Satish thought for a second then answered, "No, it's okay. Actually I'm not married."

"If you dont mind may I ask you the reason?"

"You are one of those talkative guys, you know?"

"Well, I get that a lot."

"You are asking me personal questions, but we haven't even introduced ourselves. Don't you think you're crossing the line."

"Did I? Then I'm really sorry. Anyway, let me introduce myself." He straightened up his white shirt with his top two buttons unbuttoned. "Hello, myself Harsh Sahni. I'm twenty-five years old and I'm a fashion designer. Nice to meet you."

"Wow, your clothing style shows you're a designer."

"Really?"

"Well yeah, kinda."

"Anyway enough about me, introduce yourself."

"Oh yeah right. I am Satish Paul, owner of this bar and also this whole building. I'm thirty-five."

"What? Really? This whole building is yours?"

"Yes."

"How many storeys is this building?" Harsh asked in awe.

"Four."

"What do you use them for?"

"I live in the first floor. The ground floor is the bar. The second and third floor is rented by a fashion designing company, Starlight Clothing."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Wow, you must be really rich."

"Actually this building was given to me as a gift from my friend Amaira. The one you helped me with."

"Why?"

"Because...." He stopped then looked at Harsh frowning his eyebrows.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Harsh asked innocently.

"No...I suddenly realized that I was answering all your questions when I should be working. Today all my employees took leave because they went for a trip together. Oh God, you don't talk to me. I have to work, bye." Satish said and went inside the counter and begin to clean the glasses and arrange the wines.

Harsh watched him with a little smile on his face. Then he proceeded to play his final card.

"Mr. Satish?" He called.

Satish turned around and saw Harsh holding out his phone, unlocked.

"What?" He asked.

"Can I get your number?" Harsh asked.

Satish just stood there dumbstruck by the sudden question. His stomach started to have butterflies and his face flushed red.

"Are you okay? Are you sick? Why is your face so red?" Hafsh asked getting up from the chair.

"Oh...hah...nothing...no...I'm not sick." Satish stammered really hard.

"Then, can I get your number? You see, it's already too late. I should go home so, can you please hurry and give me your number?" He said and pushed his mobile forward.

Satish looked at the phone and then at Harsh. He was pointing his finger towards his phone.

Satish mustered his courage and typed his number.

"Thank you. I'll call you." With that Harsh winked at him and left the bar.

All left at the scene was a severely flustered Satish.