I N T E R L U D E - I I
January 2016 (2 months later/ 1 month after the confession), INDIA
"Suraj! Where were you boy? There's so much work to be done! Go make sure the flowers are arranged properly!"
A deep voice could be heard and if one turned one's head 45 degrees to the right, he would see the voice belonged to a burly man in a suit. And if one also moved his eyes 45 degrees upwards he would see many streamers and flowers and a huge board which said-
"It's SWAYAM WEDS NISHA you fool! Not SWAYAN WEDS MISHA!"
--
Sharon paced around in her room, biting her nails in anxiety. The tiny square piece of decorated paper lying on the bed seemed to criticize her as she lost her tranquility due to it. All of a sudden, her phone rang, startling her.
"Hello?"
"Stop biting your nails Sharon."
Sharon sighed, and a small smile came up her face in spite of herself.
"Don't really have any left seeing that I've been chewing on them for the past two days."
She heard him chuckle lightly. Silence followed it. Helplessness filled every inch of the silence, involuntarily bringing tears to Sharon's eyes.
"Sharon" he breathed, his voice so small it stung Sharon.
"I can't do this, Sharon. It's killing me."
"Swayam, we've talked about this. It's not a picnic for me either. I'm going to watch the man I love get engaged today and then married 15 days later. I don't think I've seen a more effective torture method."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
" It has come up a few times."
"Because I do. I love you so much, it hurts."
"I know Swayam. I know."
"I'm glad you do."
"..."
"Are we a bunch of screwed up adults or what?"
--
Swayam paced around his air conditioned room, the sherwani suit stiff and rough against his skin. The air conditioner proved useless as a few sweat droplets made their way down his forehead. Few months ago if someone had told him he was going to marry Nisha, he'd have jumped in joy. It was ironic how now the very fact depressed him to no ends. All because of a baby. His baby.
Swayam sighed. No matter the hell he was put through, he had grown to love his little tyke. The fact that he had managed to create a life overwhelmed him to no ends and he knew, no matter what happened, he would never forsake his baby. He and Nisha had talked about the gender of the baby and he had said then that he didn't care if it was a boy or a girl; he was going to spoil them rotten anyway. And for a second he had imagined a beautiful girl with Sharon's eyes; a splitting image of her.
Swayam rubbed his hand across his face, a sudden fatigue overtaking him. He wished he could just grab Sharon and disappear for a while, both of them living inside a happy bubble, together.
Alas, he had an engagement to attend.
--
"Nisha? Can I come in?"
"Yes."
"You-you look beautiful."
Thanks." Nisha smiled at him through the mirror.
He walked towards her and sat on a stool beside her, his eyes automatically travelling to her bump. A smile came up his face; only two months for the kid to appear in his life; only two months for him to be a father.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "Are you?"
No.
--
The hall dazzled under the numerous lights. Streamers ran cheerfully against the walls and a deluge of words and laughs filled the room. The groom's parents were nowhere to be seen while the bride's parents were seated in the front row, a sombre expression on their face. Loud ladies, running kids and frustrated managers could be seen. Sharon stood in a corner, observing the chaos in front of her, her own heartbeat contributing to the din. She had no doubt that she was secretly a masochist. Why else would she be here to attend Swayam's engagement?
Because you love him.
She sighed in defeat.
"Hello."
Sharon turned around to see a man offering her a glass of juice.
"I've been told not to take food items from strangers."
"Unless the bride and groom are planning to carry out a massacre through the juice, you're pretty safe."
With a light chuckle, Sharon accepted the glass, eyeing the person who gave it to her. He was slightly taller than her, his hair spiked at the front. His eyes were a familiar brown and he had a crooked smile on his face.
"So you're from the groom's side or the bride's?"
"The groom. I am an old friend of his." Sharon replied, the word friend' leaving a bitter aftertaste. She was not just a friend. She was more than that.
"I see. I am an old friend of the bride."
Sharon stared at him, slightly surprised. She could've sworn she heard the same bitterness in his voice as it had been hers. She was now intrigued. Who was this guy?
--
Swayam peeped into the crowded hall, scanning it to find the one person he wanted to see. And there she was, in all her wonder. Decked in a beautiful blue saree, she looked stunning. Swayam wished he could push through the crowd, hold her and kiss her senseless. His train thought broke as a man blocked his sight. His irritation grew as the man engaged a conversation with her.
Swayam walked through the crowd, towards Sharon aiming to catch a look at the guy who seemed to catch her attention. The man turned sideways and all the blood drained from Swayam's face as he realised who it was. And the very next second, all the blood rushed back up and Swayam saw red. His stride grew long and within few seconds the man was pinned against the wall.
"Swayam!" he heard Sharon gasp but he paid no heed.
"You son of a bitch. What are you doing here?"
"Swayam!" Sharon hissed, tugging at his sleeve and this time Swayam looked at her. She looked annoyed. She didn't know. She didn't understand.
"Leave him. He's your guest."
Swayam removed his grip on the man and stepped back, still furious.
"He is the last person I would want to invite here, Sharon. Ask him. Ask him who he is."
Sharon looked at the man questioningly, who held out an awkward hand.
"Saurav Shekawat."
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