We could have been. For life.

'I heard Khalif got engaged,' said Ig, looking up from his computer screen. His hazel-brown eyes were dreamy as usual. I could see curiousity on his face. There was amusement as well. And a hint of a smile. In his voice was a slight thankfulness, I hoped. I hoped.

I stared at him blankly, - surprised by the suddenness of the question - nodded and responded with a nonchalant 'Uh-huh', before proceeding to the 115th page of Picoult's House Rules. I kept decoding each line in admiration - the everyday vocab and the sophisticated syntax. If this was jealousy, it would have resulted in murder. Luckily it was just veneration so it didn't hurt. But it was kind of pleasantly disturbing (yeah I know it sounds insane) that I had never wanted to write the way anyone does so badly the way I wanted to write like her.

'I thought he likes you?' said Ig, after a few blissful seconds of silence. Why can't you, for at least one hour, stop talking to me when I'm reading? 'I mean, he told you he does, didn't he?' he added, triggering annoyance. What the heck was that, anyway? There's a whole world of matters to talk about, and he wanted to talk about Khalif. No, seriously. He wanted to talk about Khalif.

I looked up from the page and returned his bewitching stare. Dear God, you have to grant me this man's love no matter what, because no one else on earth will ever be able to love him the way I do, and You know it.

'What's your problem, Ig?' I asked. Bored. I mean come on, we didn't get to see each other that often anymore since I started working and when we were spending quality time like this - appreciating each other's presence - he had to talk about someone else. A guy at that.

'Did he make you cry?' he asked, suddenly. The expression on his face changed. Into a look I had been sorely missing.

I rolled my eyes and said, 'Where did that come from?' Jeez.

And his face hardened. 'Did he?'

'No.' Yes, he did.

He reached out to my book, pulled it away and placed it on his lap. 'I'll return this later. Talk to me.'

'No, he didn't.' Yes. He. Damn. Did.

'Nina.'

'I just don't wanna talk about it.' True. I didn't wanna remember the friendship that was broken beyond repair because Khalif was born stupid and he couldn't help it. Because every time I did, a part of me died. Because we could have been best friends for life. Best friends. For life.

Ig leaned into his chair, arms crossed. 'You're not getting your book back until you do.' Oh yes, you can definitely keep it, love. I'd let you keep even me for the rest of our blessed lives if you'd just ask. You just didn't know I would.

I let out a sigh and faked the cursed look of a painful longing. I could always buy another copy. But the fact that he was keeping it as a pass to peek into my life raised the value of it to heaven. Now I wanted it back.

'It's not working, Nina.' Damn. I could have sworn his tough front faltered a bit just now. He blinked and swallowed. Heh.

My calculative mind began to work the usual mischiefs; I was planning a tale that wasn't entirely a lie. Some parts of the whole truth would still be concealed, though. It wasn't going to be a lie, I promised myself. It shouldn't. Because this was Ig. 

'He didn't really like me. He just thought he did,' I began, trying my hardest to look into his eyes. Convincingly, yes.

'OK,' he replied. My book was still unreturned. Right. So this was going to be a tough fight. Fine.

'He did say he liked me. But I think he didn't know what he was talking about. Maybe some time after his confession, the other girl happened and he panicked.' Nope. He was calm as hell. Because he was the world's biggest jerk. Still is.

'Why?'

'Because he realized that he didn't mean a single thing he said about his feelings for me in that few months, so he ignored me for a week, pretending to be confused,' I explained. I didn't tell him about how terrible it was for me, because Khalif and I had been friends practically since the day I was born.

'What do you mean he pretended?'

'What else could it be? He was in love for months and non-existent for no reason for seven days. I rang him but he didn't pick up. Something was definitely out of place, so I tried calling him using my brother's mobile.'

'He took the call?'

'I didn't say anything, though.'

'And?'

'He sent me a text saying we should talk. I guess his sad little brain managed to comprehend the trouble he was in.' I sighed. It was so hard to actually send this shit away to the back of my mind. It took me almost a year. Now it was all coming back to me. Heck.

'And you guys talked.'

'I did most of the talking. Told him how immature and selfish he was - how else would you describe him, Ig? For offering me 143 just after a few days of talking when we hadn't talked to each other in at least 16 years. He's one year older. Would have been so many times smarter if he was actually using his brains at the right times. But I guess he didn't.' I was beginning to hate the fact that I remembered so much of it. 'So he screwed up our 25-year-old friendship really bad.'

'What did he say?'

'He told me he was confused. Didn't know what he was talking about. I guess the word 'love' was pretty much nothing to him since he threw it around anytime he could - he pretty much just trash-talked.'

It was funny. That I wasn't crying.

'Were you in love with him?'

Honestly, Ig, that was so unnecessary.

'No.'

I never was. It was friendship for me. One of the best because it was almost ancient. Almost. That's why my world sort of cracked when Khalif decided to stop playing smartass and act his real self - the cursed moron from hell.

He was reading my face to see if I really was telling the truth. I returned the stare with everything that I was - honesty. Seconds passed and Ig sighed. And smiled. Not the usual smile that drives girls crazy. Not the one he usually cracks when he was reading something funny. It was the rarely seen, kind one. That stopped the raging storm within me in 2 seconds.

'I tried to keep us going. But there was no effort on his part. I gave up after two weeks of trying. So I stopped texting and calling him. Just to see if he really cared,' I said.

'Seriously.'

'Yeah. I walked away.' I kind of knew that he was going to be a disappointment when I first said 'Hi' two years ago. I guess I just wanted to give him a chance. Maybe I wanted to give myself a chance. I didn't really know, though. But I'm thankful that I walked away.

'Nina.'

'That was two years ago. I sent a short mail to him last Syawal. Honest apologies and all.' But there was only silence. 'I tried.'

That concerned look again. And I was saved. 'Will you ever go back?'

'I don't know.' I really don't. There was nothing for me to go back to, anyway.

A soothing silence.

He took the book from his lap slowly, and placed it in front of me. In response to that, I beamed and our eyes met. It was almost heaven. To me it was. He gave me that kind smile in return and didn't say a thing. He didn't really have to.

I looked out the window and saw the people in the street running for shelter. It was raining all of a sudden. Somehow I was at peace. Maybe the rain was washing away the hopelessness everyone was breathing from the air. Maybe it should wash away the hopelessness in me, too.

'Maybe you won't have to,' Ig said, finally. I turned to him and remembered how much my life had changed since he decided to hang around.

'Yeah,' I said. Yeah, maybe I won't have to.

And maybe I won't even want to.

Ever.