"What's the point of misleading yourself by thinking so much about someone?" Sameer asked, tilting his head as he looked at Swapnil.
"I'm not misleading myself," Swapnil snapped, already irked by his friend's probing questions.
"Then why are you investigating so much? Why not just wait and see what happens?" Sameer replied casually, leaning back in his chair. "You've grown way too used to thinking about her. Honestly, you never obsessed this much over me. I think I'm actually starting to feel jealous of Meera - like she's the other woman in your life!"
Swapnil shot him a sharp glare, but his anger faded into thoughtfulness. He rubbed his forehead and muttered, "I don't know why, but I have a feeling Meera's going to bring a whole lot of trouble."
Sameer raised an eyebrow. "You? Scared of a girl? A younger one at that? Unbelievable."
"I didn't come here to convince you," Swapnil muttered. "And you don't know her like I do. That girl is a walking, talking disaster waiting to happen."
"What has she done that's got you so riled up?" Sameer asked, amused.
"What hasn't she done?" Swapnil shot back. "You ask her one thing, and she spins it into a hundred different stories. A simple yes or no turns into a lecture. Just imagine - if she ever gets full control over my life, what will happen?"
"Then why let her have control at all?" Sameer suggested. "In fact, you should be the one controlling the situation. Before she starts acting like your wife, maybe it's time you learn how to be a husband."
"Don't talk nonsense - I don't want to be anyone's husband," Swapnil said irritably. He thought of the plane incident and sighed. "Sure, I can manage her work life. But these personal things? She's beyond my handling capacity. That's why I need your help. You always know what to do. Why won't you just tell me?"
Sameer leaned forward. "I think instead of worrying about all this, we need to focus on the 'second wife' issue. That's more pressing."
"Exactly..." Swapnil agreed, then narrowed his eyes. "Before she starts investigating, I need to shut down the suspicion you planted in her head."
He paused. "I scared her off for now, but I'm sure she'll come back to it. Meera doesn't let things go that easily."
"Sure, you dodged it today. But that won't work every time. You know how stubborn she is," Sameer said seriously. "Eventually, she'll make you confess everything. You can't get a word out of her, but she knows exactly how to get the truth out of you."
Swapnil sighed deeply. "But what truth am I supposed to tell her when there was never really a second marriage? If I give her the whole story, she'll start cooking up her own fantasy - which will be far from reality."
"Still," Sameer argued, "she deserves to know. She's a significant part of your past now."
"Why should I tell her anything?" Swapnil countered. "She never tells me about her past affairs."
Sameer looked at him thoughtfully. For the first time, there was no trace of guilt or regret on Swapnil's face - just frustration. Was he really that affected by Meera?
"That's because she never had any," Sameer said calmly. "You're her first - her first anything, really."
"Don't try to butter me up," Swapnil muttered. "Fine, maybe I am the first man to get this close to her. But she still doesn't tell me anything about her life, except for her father. So why should I feel compelled to tell her about mine?"
"Fair," Sameer said. "But what about the 'second marriage' lie? You'll have to come up with a convincing story."
"And not one of your horror plots, please," Swapnil warned, narrowing his eyes. "Just something simple and believable to explain why I said what I said."
Sameer grinned. "Fine. So, where do we begin? On a dark, stormy night, during our college trip - "
"Stop. Just stop right there," Swapnil cut him off, holding up his hand. "We're not scripting a horror film. I just need a clean, logical explanation. No rain, no lightning, no mysterious encounters. And please, don't turn it into an entire movie."
"Then you tell me what you want to say!" Sameer said, slightly annoyed. "If something goes wrong, don't blame me later."
Swapnil went quiet, deep in thought. Nothing sounded quite right. He looked at Sameer again, who now sat smugly in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.
"Fine," Swapnil gave in. "Think of something - anything. Just keep it short. And no dark nights or dramatic monsoons. A simple, short story. And for god's sake, no feature film script."
Sameer's eyes gleamed with victory. "Now that's more like it! I'll write such a story, Meera won't know what hit her."
Swapnil sighed again. At this point, he couldn't tell who was more dangerous - Meera or Sameer.