Hi,
So i'm still trying to get the final pm list in order. Please refer to page 47 for the list.
But Part 20 was ready before the pm list was. And I'm all for rounding up numbers so I thought I'd make the first 20 parts public. It's neater with round numbers.
.
I'm neurotic about things like that.
I really hope you guys like this one because I'm not too thrilled with how this one turned out.
PART XX
Her hands were clammy. She sat in the near empty cafĂŠ, staring at the massive cuckoo clock, a forgotten cup of chai laying in front of her. She had deliberately chosen to reach early. She wanted to be prepared, to get familiar with the surroundings, to compose herself in a manner that spoke of casual affinity.
But she couldn't ignore the hot ball of guilt was drilling a hole in her insides. She hadnât told Rishabh that sheâd agreed to meet Anurag. Partly because the words had stayed lodged in her throat and partly because heâd barely been at home the whole week. Something to do with Blackstone Group?
She would tell him later.
But why? Her inner voice rebelled. He didnât always tell her where he disappeared to. He was perfectly okay with keeping their personal lives separate. She didnât owe him any explanation.
Then why the guilt? Hai Bhagwan, youâre such a mess, Prerna.
Her monologue was interrupted by an approaching shadow. She saw Anurag climbing up the stairs and she immediately stiffened, face freezing in a fake smile. Bitterness, she realized, was a constant b*tch.
âHi.â Anurag ventured, taking a seat opposite her. Heâd changed in the months since sheâs seen him. His once long-ish floppy hair was cut close to the scalp, a thick scraggy beard covered his boyishly-handsome face and heâd exchanged his cotton shirts and kurtas for a navy-blue suit. He looked like a shadow of his previous care-free self.
âYou look great.â His hollow eyes lingering on the mangalsutra around her neck.
âSo do you.â Prerna replied perfunctorily, unsure of the social niceties required whilst speaking to oneâs ex-fiancee. âWhat did you want to speak to me about, Anurag?â She asked, wanting to cut to the chase.
âIâm sorry. I know I texted you out of the blue. I was⌠I wasâŚâ He rubbed his left wrist, an old tell that alluded to his nervousness. âI screwed up. I screwed up so badly, Prerna. I was so angry when I found out that youâd been going to him that I gave you no chance to explain. The things I saidâŚâ He trailed off, anguish clear on his face. âSaid all those things⌠you have to know that I didnât mean them! I justâŚI just couldnât see past my anger in those moments.â
âAnd you can see past it now?â Prerna asked, latent animosity clouding her voice.
âYou know, the last few months in London, Iâve been doing everything to try and keep Basu Industries afloat. But everyday Iâd end up just leaving work midway and walking aimlessly on the streets. Thinking about you. Always you." He ran his shaking hands through his hair. "I made a mistake, Prerna. I should have trusted you. A mistake that Iâm going to regret for the rest of my life.â His eyes were red with unshed tears.
Prerna couldnât believe what she was hearing. Words she had once longed for. Surely, she still longed for them? To be vindicated after being vilified in his eyes. But the futility of his words didnât escape her.
âWhatâs the point of this now, Anurag? Why are you telling me this now?" She didnât want hear his apology. Didnât want to hear about how he had missed her. Didnât want to see the heartbreak in his eyes. Not now. Not when they couldnât salvage the pieces around them.
âDonât ruin both our lives because of one mistake I made, Prerna. I donât know why you married Bajaj. But I know that I could have stopped it if I had been there to support you when I should have. I know that. But Iâm here now and Iâll fix everything. Iâll fix us! Just trust me."
Too late to fix anything. Too late for them.
"There is nothing to fix, Anurag! Iâm married. Itâs done.â The words coming out harsher than she intended.
âSo get a divorce! Iâll help you. You donât love him, Prerna. I know you donât love him.â Anurag cried out frantically, banging the table.
âYou donât know anything!" She snapped. "I married Mr. Bajaj because I wanted to and like it or not, thatâs the truth. Iâm not going to divorce him.â Gentling her caustic tone, she said, âWeâre a thing of the past. You need to accept that and you need to move on, Onu. Your apology... It means a lot to me. Thank you for that. Take care of yourself.â
She made a move to get up, praying that her trembling knees would support her. She felt like sheâd been cut open with a butcherâs knife. She held the truth of her marriage close to her chest, the burden of it, weighing on her heart. No. Rishabh and her had not married for love. But in the past months, sheâd found peace in their co-existence.
Peace that would be upended after today.
âIâm going to destroy him.â Prerna whipped around at the low threat at came from behind her.
âIâm going after Rishabh Bajaj and Iâm not going to stop until heâs just a forgotten name and youâre mine once again.â
She shivered at the menacing words, her body gripped in fear.
Fear for Anurag. If Anurag went after Rishabh, Rishabh would decimate him.
Of this, Prerna had no doubt.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
âMaâam! Maâam!â An attendant rushed into the festively lit dining room, wringing her hands. âSir is at the gate. His car is coming in.â
There was a sudden flurry of movement in the room, servants scrambling to clear the place. Prerna caught hold of Kuki and sunk behind the large couch, âOkay everyone, hide, quick! Lights off. ShhhhhhâŚâ
The room plunged in darkness and after a few seconds of chair scrapings and hushed whispers, it fell silent.
Prerna fingered the maroon zari of her saree as she motioned for Kuki to stop fidgeting. When she had first thought of doing something for Rishabhâs birthday, nearly a week ago, sheâs been mystified to find that none of his house staff knew about his birthday. Even Kuki seemed confused by her questions. In the five years since Kuki had been born, theyâd only celebrated her birthday. It never occurred to Kuki that her father might have such a thing as a birthday too.
Mr. Mehara had been of no help. All heâd said was that he was aware of Mr. Bajajâs birth date as several bouquets would come to the office each year but that was the extent of it. Mr. Bajaj worked on that day same as any other day.
As far as Prena could tell, Rishabh didnât mark his birthday at all. A consummate workaholic.
It had made her even more determined to make the small celebration fun and enjoyable so he could let down his hair. Even if it was for an hour or two.
*Tap* *Tap*
The bated silence in the room almost intensified the echoes of the incoming footsteps.
âChandu! Paani lao.â His voice boomed in the adjoining corridor.
Prerna pressed deeper into the side of the sofa, trying her best to stifle a giggling Kuki.
"Chandu! Prerna!â He seemed just steps away. âWhere the hell is everyone--?"
SURPRISE!!! The room rang in unison.
Prerna leapt from behind the sofa just as the lights were flipped on. Poms poms and plastic whistles going off at the same time. Confetti exploded from party cannons as Prerna and Kuki began singing âHappy Birthdayâ in as tone-deaf a rhythm as possible.
We sound like kookaburras, Prerna thought ruefully.
A round of applause went off as soon as they finished the last verse. Kuki fit her hand in Rishabhâs and dragged him towards the cake.
âWhatâs going on?" He murmured to Prerna, still taking in his surroundings. Large party balloons hung everywhere in the dining room, matching streamers and tacky party hats with attached disco lights were strewn about. Prerna had also set up a make-shift photo booth with cheeky signs like âHumara Bajajâ, âBajaj bajayega sabka baajaâ, "Angry-Not-So-Young -Manâ, really hoping he would be able to see the humor in them. Fueled by guilt and hoping to forget her distressing meeting with Anurag, she had overcompensated in every aspect of decoration and gone to town with it.
âWhat do you mean âwhatâs going on'? Donât you recognize a birthday party?â She inched him closer to the huge three-tiered birthday cake sheâd baked for him that morning. âCome on, cake cutting time. Let Kuki blow out the candles, okay?â
He nodded, making the first cut in the cake amidst the fanfare, hoisting Kuki up in his arms so he could feed her the customary first bite.
âPapa. Photo time!â Kuki squealed, pointing to the booth, her face stuffed with cake.
'Shit, Iâm a dead duck', Prerna thought as Rishabh swiveled to look in the direction of the photo booth, his eyes narrowing.
âDoes that sign say ââ
She stuffed his mouth with cake at that precise moment, Kuki and her dragging him to the booth.
Joint attack.
He played along amiably enough, rolling his eyes at the signs. He even acquiesced to wearing the shiny party hat long enough for a photo-op Though Prerna couldnât help but notice how disoriented he seemed under the quick smiles he shot in her direction.
They wrapped up their dinner listening to Kuki chatter away. Rishabh still keeping unnaturally silent. He stayed behind to help Prerna put the decorations away after Alka took Kuki to get her ready for bed.
âOh. I canât believe we forgot to give you your presents.â Prerna exclaimed, as she picked up the casserole, spying the two packages behind it.
âMy what?â
âRishabh, honestly. What has gotten into you? Your birthday presents.â Gesturing at the glittering packages. âOneâs from Kuki and one is from me. Well, go on, open them." She said forcefully to her husband who still hadnât moved.
He reached out tentatively, neatly pulling at the seams of the shiny paper. A generous smile spread on his face as pulled out the photo frame and the attached card. âHappy Budday, Papa!â the card read.
âDo you remember that day? Kuki was so mad at you for scaring Tubby.â
âThat dog is a menace.â Rishabh said, his words carrying no bite as he stared at the captured memory. He was down on one knee, matching his daughterâs height. She was dressed in blue overalls and wagging a disapproving finger at him. Tubby sat next to her, clearly pleased with the turn of events.
âOpen mine.â Prerna nudged, after a beat.
He looked up at her, his usually arrogant gaze, hesitant. Then ever so slowly, his fingers peeled away the wrapping of the larger present.
âI know, I know. Itâs tremendously silly. But I figured this must have been your favorite game as child. And I thought it would be great if I could bring you a piece of that.â
He looked at the box for several seconds.
âItâs a game.â He finally said, looking innocently confused.
âWell, duh.â She exhaled. Why was he being so obtuse? âItâs Monopoly. Personally, I hate it but Iâm willing to play with you if you let me win.â She licked the buttercream off a discarded spoon.
âUh.â He wavered. âIâve never played Monopoly.â
The spoon fell down with a clatter.
âWhat?! WHAT? How is that even possible?â Prerna screeched in disbelief. âOkay, now we have to play. I may even win this time, seeing how youâre a Monopoly virgin.â
He smirked at her bluster but his eyes were bright with some unsaid emotion.
âPrerna, this was.. this wasâŚâ
âI know. I know. It's all a bit childish. I didnât have much time and I donât know any of your friends. I didnât know who to call. Ma and Shivani are coming tomorrow morning to wish you. This must be some shit birthday bash compared to your usual ones butâŚâ
âPrerna, shut up.â
She naturally shut up immediately.
âIâm trying to say thank you. This is the best birthday party Iâve ever had.â He looked away. âActually, this might be the only one Iâve ever had.â
Prerna stilled then, not able compute his offhanded statement.
He was 38. Surely, he had to have had birthday parties before?
âWhat do you mean that this is the only one youâve ever had?â She asked skeptically.
âI mean as a boy, I didnât really have much of a family growing up so there wasnât anyone to celebrate with. That just became a habit.â He shrugged. âI barely even notice the day anymore.â
Given Rishabhâs usual self-contained imperiousness, it seemed impossible that this man had ever been a boy. It was easier to believe he had sprung from somewhere fully formed, like a Greek demigod. But Prernaâs heart clenched for the unloved boy that didnât get his share of childhood, for the lonely man that the boy was forced to become. A boy who seemed to have grown up before his time.
And all she had gotten him was a stupid board game and a cake.
Why hadnât she thought to fill the house with gifts and friends and family?
âRishabh, I ââ
He cut her off, âThank you for going through all this trouble. And thank you for the presents.â His eyes wide and unguarded.
Puppy dog eyes. Rishabh Bajaj can make puppy dog eyes. Iâm so screwed.
His lips curled in a shy smile as he leaned slowly toward her, giving her ample to time to move away.
She should run.
She didnât.
She couldnât. Her feet were rooted to the spot. She couldnât stop staring. Those eyes. A world of tightly leashed intensity shimmered in their open depths that held her, pulled her in, until awareness sizzled between them bright and disturbing like an electric current.
The air crackled as he bent closer, tilting his head.
He gently kissed her cheek, his soft lips lightly brushing the heated skin. Like a butterflyâs wing. A benediction. An offering.
It left her transfixed.
âThank you.â He whispered.
___________________________________________________________________________________
âAnurag, leave my hand! Youâre hurting me.â She gritted out.
âPrerna, you have to listen to me! I wonât let you go unless you listen!â
She yanked back, âYou're making a scene, Anurag. Let go off my hand now!
âHe doesnât care about you! Heâs using you to get to me! Heâs using you!â Anuragâs hold tightened on her wrist. âHeâs seen with different women each month! What kind of a disgusting man does that to his wife?â
âLET GO OF ME!â Her fury exploded in spades and she pulled roughly against his hold, her bangle breaking in the process. She ignored the prick and began resolutely walking toward the car, snubbing his calls.
Anurag had been waiting for her outside college. For the fifth time in the past three weeks. Usually it was just heated words that they exchanged. Today was different. Today, he had heâd cornered her, begging her to leave with him. To divorce Bajaj. To forgive him. But forgiveness was hard to bestow on someone who manhandled you into giving it.
She sat in the waiting car, rubbing her raw wrist, wincing at the bruises that were already blooming there.
______________________________________________________________________________
âHow was college?â Her husband sat on the couch, a cigar held captive between his lips. His charcoal blazer unbuttoned, revealing a form-fitted chequered waistcoat, which accentuated his straight shoulders. He took a long drag of the cigar, his hands moving with that quiet, commanding certainty that said he knew he could own the ground he walked on.
As if heâd sensed her scrutiny, he looked up.
She froze.
âIt was good. So much to study, so little timeâŚâ She said nervously. Why was he home at this hour?
He pinned her with his cool gaze. His eyes were striking, the icy black depths bright with intelligence, a cool, penetrating intelligence that would cut right to the core of things, to assess, to dismiss, to eviscerate.
All at once, she was as transparent and fragile as glass.
âYeah? Good. Anything interesting happen?
She broke the eye contact, her heart racing.
He knew. Heâd somehow found out about the scene at college and now she would have to spill the beans. She resented the arrogance bred into his bones that allowed him to question her about Anurag while he continued to go through women like last seasonâs clothes. He sat there, looking at her, oozing entitlement from the self-assured way he held himself to his perfectly straight aristocratic nose. But she hated this version of Rishabh. This wall of impenetrable ice. This version that could make people cower with that well-aimed glare.
âAnurag came to college today.â She flopped into the chair opposite him. âActually, he's come several times to college and has been texting me since he returned from London. I met him at a cafe once.â She snatched a glance at him to gauge his reaction.
Nothing.
âWe just talked and I told him to move on⌠Heâs in a bad state⌠itâs just these past few weeks that heâs been coming to collegeâŚâ
Silence.
âWe just talkedâŚâ She tried again, rubbing her throbbing wrist, trying to fill the void.
He got up with the grace of a jaguar, honing in on her. He crossed the carpet and sat on the coffee table by her side. He sat too close and nearly a head taller than her. If he intended to intimidate her with his body, it was counterproductive. Prerna had come to realize that his intimidation roused a strong emotion in her: resistance.
Rishabh Bajaj did not strike her as a man who tolerated resistance.
He lifted her throbbing hand, cradling it in his much larger one. His thumb rubbed circles over the bruises gently. He was always gentle with her.
She couldn't contain the soft gasp that spilled out of her at his scalding touch.
"Am I hurting you?" Regret visible in his eyes.
âItâs nothingâŚâ
He let go off her hand and she felt the loss of warmth instantly.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Rishabh asked quietly, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
âExcuse me?â She burst out, lassitude vanishing. âWhatever happened to letâs keep our personal lives separate, Prerna? I donât ask you about all those nights you donât come home!â She dug her fingernails into her palms. âDonât ask me about what I do on my own time.â
âPrerna, I couldnât care less about whom you speak to or what you do on your own time.â His tone suddenly biting and remote at the same time. âBut I have a bare minimum responsibility to you which includes your physical safety.â
âAnurag didnât mean to hurt me. He wouldnâtâŚ.â She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. âHeâs hurting. I hurt him.â
The lines tightened on Rishabhâs face.
âYou want to let people right on through and run roughshod over you, thatâs your problem.â He shrugged nonchalantly, making a move to get up.
âRishabh, please.â She pleaded, terrified of what he would do to Anurag. âIt was a misunderstanding. Donât go after Anurag.â
He turned around, austere and colorless like a sheet of snow. And, potentially, just as capable of freezing her.
âYou seem to be under the impression that I have the time or the inclination to care about the boy or your little parlour games with him. Let me clarify. I donât. However, given how excitable Mr. Basu can get, you should learn how to defend yourself.â He buttoned his jacket, glancing at watch, as if already bored by their conversation. âIâll arrange for some basic self-defense classes. Time to be your own knight-in-shining-armor, Prerna."
He began walked away, leaving her alone in the cold room.
That stung. His indifference to her. Because try as she might, she couldnât summon the same indifference toward him . She felt many things, altogether too much, where he was concerned, but never indifference.
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Best,
Sohaa
P.S: I promise the next update will kickstart their romance.
Edited by Sohali19 - 6 years ago