Page 34 of Game on, Love

Her attempt at making light of the situation drew a soft laugh from me, even though my mind was still racing.

Had I really been so caught up in my hurt that I had robbed myself of something in the name of self-protection?

11

Raina

THE HOUSE WAS QUIET.

The kind of quiet I hadn’t felt since I moved in here.

Sure, I had moments of being alone when I was travelling… but after years of living by myself, I had gotten used to the silence. My home was always justmyspace. And I had found comfort in it. There was something so peculiar about coming home to just my cats and an empty space, knowing that each moment was something real. I didn’t have to pretend; I could let go of the expectations that came with me, even the ones that were from me.

I knew that living with them wouldn’t be a long-term solution, and eventually, I would have to find my own space. I still felt like a guest in their home, and the itch for my own routine and walking around the house in oversized t-shirts, bra-less, was real.

I sighed, the unwanted heaviness of a decision I didn’t even have to take loomed over me. When instead, my focus really should be on the decision I took last week.

After my lunch with Leah, I’d brush off her suggestion to take the role, but on my way home, it was her voice that still lingered in my mind. When I had walked into work, I had fully planned on politely declining Hazel’s offer and negotiating the chance to still work in Formula One. But when she’d asked for my final decision, to both of our surprise—although where mine was laced in a little shock, hers was one of joy—I had said yes. Because somewhere, in the corner of my mind, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of that maybe Leah was right. Maybe it wasn’t about Rihaan or my Dad or the walls I kept up. Maybe it wasabout me and the fact I needed to be honest about myself and what I wanted.

And what I wanted was to not hold myself back from taking a chance.

So, here I was, standing in the middle of their theatre room, staring at my calendar. The once neat rows were filled with meetings, deadlines, appointments and travel plans.

For so long, my schedule had been my perfect excuse. My shield that helped me avoid anything that involved my family or something that was too personal or too uncertain. But now? I had to rework it. Carve out time to shift priorities. Professionally and Personally.

I wasn’t used to this. My life was a controlled chaos focused on my work, and even sitting here re-evaluating the time I had to make space for myself felt like a vulnerability that I hadn’t expected.

The screen in the theatre room flashed; signally, it was finally connected to my laptop.

If I really was supposed to learn everything I had to about cricket in the next three months, I needed a proper schedule and what better way to do it than use the hundreds of footage lying around.

I knew I had to start with the basics, though; and while a part of me felt like there was a knot in my chest loosening up, there was still a voice in my head that couldn’t help but scream at me that I was heading for a crash, not a clean sweep.

Instead of dwelling on it, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. From what I had learnt from Vedant, as he rushed out of the door to go god knows where that neither Rihaan nor Oliver was planning to be home tonight.

This was another reason why I was making the best out of their set-up, but if I wanted to actually make use of the time andnot just have random information thrown at me, I needed to distress first.

And what better way to do it than with baking brownies?

I didn’t even need to check for ingredients because that was among the first things I did after moving it.

Baking had always been something I shared with Ma, but over the years, it had become something short of a coping mechanism. It gave me a sense of control when my mind was spinning. There was something so incredibly soothing about it like the precise measurements and the familiar scent of sweetness filling the air was all my thoughts needed to calm down.

Ma had a journal of recipes she’d given me; it was filled with some sweets we used to make together, some that were passed down but slowly, I’d been adding some of my own, like my brownies that I had perfected over time, which had also been my go-to for when I needed to unwind but also when I wanted to celebrate small wins.

Today felt like a little bit of both.

ONCE THE BATTERwas set and in the pan, I gave the oven a once over, still waiting for it to preheat as my cats lounged nearby. Lilli was sitting at the counter, watching me with interest, while Milo was hanging out close enough but completely unbothered.

As happy as I was to make use of their fancy kitchen, it took me a good 10 minutes—and a video tutorial—to figure out how to set it to the right settings.

Knowing it would take another couple minutes, I turned to clean the mess I’d created, but as the music from my phone filledthe kitchen, I couldn’t help but lift my whisk, pretending it was a microphone as my lips moved along the lyrics.

‘Dancing on the edge, about to take it too far

It’s messing with my head, how I mess with your heart.’

There was something so freeing about dancing when no one was watching, when no one cared. When I lived alone, it was a nightly thing. I belted out the chorus before crouching in front of Lilli, the sound of my off-key singing bouncing off the walls, but she was unfazed.