Chapter 1
“You are a fucking idiot.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“Don’t be this stupid.”
My mind is swirling with all the opinions, but I'm still going. Why am I being so foolish? Why do I put myself through this? It doesn't have to be this hard. Was it ever meant to be like this... ?
“We've arrived," Shubham uttered, doing a strange yet pitying smirk. Everyone felt sorry for me, but he had the added misfortune of knowing the entire truth. I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply; there was no use in fighting it. I'd come this far - might as well go through with it. When did I become so utterly pitiable?
Exiting the car, I grabbed some of our bags to help Shubham with them. I was stunned by how large the venue turned out to be. I had expected the destination wedding to be a smaller affair when I got the invitation, though it appears I was wrong yet again.
“Are you okay?” Shubham asked with concern. His worry was warranted; I felt lightheaded and queasy, as I often do when flying. But for this trip, I had to take a flight, so I nodded in response and proceeded to the reception desk.
“Oh my god, Akash!”
She ran to me, her light pink ghagra shimmering in the sunlight. I felt her body press against mine as she hugged me, as if I were her world. Her rose perfume filled my heart with hope. But then she let go of me and my heart shattered like fine glass. Why did I do this to myself? I forced a smirk on my face and stepped back, re-establishing my cold facade.
“Congratulations,” I smiled. I am the biggest idiot.
“Hey Sherman, congratulations!” I offer my hand to the soon-to-be husband of my beloved. He was a wealthy and powerful co-chair of Talwaar industries. I couldn't believe that she chose him over me. She could have had anything; after all, Talwaar owned steel plants in Odisha and diamond and mica mining operations. His new jewelry line, Nisshaan, was extremely successful. Here I was, a regular person, standing before a millionaire who just happened to be an inch taller than me and work out regularly. What else could he possibly have? I felt jealous and stupid for believing her when everyone said it wasn't going to last. I hated myself for how she made me feel, but still, I loved her more than ever.
“Thanks, buddy!” Sherman exclaimed and gave me a friendly back pat. “Glad you could make it. Come have some drinks with us while we get ready to start the cocktail. Don’t worry about your bags.” With that, he ushered me and Shubham towards the illuminated pool area. It was beautifully decorated with twinkling fairy lights and there was a large dance floor in the center.
“Here you go,” Sitara said to me, handing me a whiskey. Yes, her name was—is—Sitara Jaiswal. She was the hottest and most attractive person in our university. I have known her since my second year of medical school. I was awestruck when I saw her in the cafeteria on campus. It took me five years before I could work up the courage to talk to her. Everyone in my circle of friends knew of my feelings for her. Still, I never mustered the nerve to ask her out; however, after seeing her during our MD program in Delhi, I gathered enough courage to approach her. She was so sweet—her eyes were like deep pools of water. Ever since that day, we have remained just friends.
“Cheers,” I mouthed to her in appreciation. Shubham and Sherman had already started socializing with the other guests. Most of my MBBS and MD classmates were there along with some of our mutual friends. Sitara stepped away to start preparing for her sangeet ceremony. And here I was, sitting on a stool at the bar while the bartender gave me a sympathetic look. Could it be any more depressing? I'm at a wedding where the bride used to be someone I had a casual relationship with. No one could feel this miserable. One whiskey down and I was still struggling not to cry.
“You must be Akash, right?” I heard that voice again—the one I'd heard from the engagement party. Ugh. Of course I'd attended. What a fool.
I turned my head away and said, "You're drunk, Kavita, aren't you?". Kavita had been a childhood friend of Sherman and was also part of the elite group of millionaires. We didn't talk much at the engagement party; she was too inebriated for that. But she could dance with a grace I hadn't seen before—like a leaf in the gentle wind. I watched her swaying all night. She was beautiful, tall and well-built as I had noticed from her Instagram workout videos. But it was her eyes that entranced me—sad and intense like black crystals in which I could get lost if I stared long enough. Her smile never faded despite how drunk she was, much like Sitara's did not during the engagement party. All in all, she lightened up the whole room with her infectious laughter. The same smile was fixed upon her face this evening as it had been during the engagement party, yet all I could focus on were those sad eyes. Unlike Sitara's blue ones, Kavita's gaze was deeply intense.
“Ha Ha, that was really witty. Must be a hit among your colleagues. Anyone dead from laughing yet?” she said with sarcasm as she downed her glass of whiskey in one go.
“There is the dry humor everybody is looking for,” I responded. What am I doing? Have I lost my ability to converse with the opposite sex?
"I'll have another one of these," she gestured to the waiter, "and these four shots are coming with me." She grabbed the shots of tequila and threw back two before I could even ask what was going on. She offered me the other two without hesitation. I downed them quickly, feeling the burn as they went down my throat. Drinking wasn't exactly my thing, but it seemed like a good way to forget about my problems for a while.
“How long has it been?” I queried, curious about her feelings for Sherman. Although I did not have the full story, I suspected that she could feel as hopelessly desperate as me. But why was I hoping that this was true?
She grinned and took her shots one after another. “7 years”, Her gaze drifted towards the dance floor. Sherman and Sitara were swaying along to the newest tunes of Bollywood. They seemed content. Unlike us, who felt pitiful and dismal.
“8 years and 3 months,” I responded, and she stared back at me with her chin resting on her shoulder. Was I relieved that she was upset too? Or did I just want a friend in this unfortunate situation? At least we were going through it together. Did they also have some sort of agreement? But it couldn't be—I had seen photos of them together on Instagram. Yes, I admit, I had been snooping.
“So, what was the two of you? Dating? Or just…”. I was curious. Why did I even bring that up? That's her history, not mine. I shouldn't have pried into it like that.
“Yes, we had a relationship when we were doing our masters degrees. We broke up after that. He was unfaithful many times. But despite that," she paused for an eternity in the noisy night. "I couldn't move on." She looked at me with her usual grin. I could tell that she did not want to tell me about what happened; yet, her lips quivered as she said, “I'm pathetic, aren't I?”
“I'm in the same boat,” I quipped without skipping a beat. As if I wanted to lighten her mood, share the emptiness with her. I felt the depth of this hollowness and longed for her to understand it too.
“Was it serious?”. Her inquiry resonated deep within me. How could I explain my relationship with Sitara? It was an intense, one-sided infatuation; a tangled web of deceptions and broken pieces of myself.
“I was a fool for her,” I said. I felt guilty speaking it aloud but it wasn't something I could keep bottled up. “Right up until three months before she got engaged,” I added. I had finally let someone in on the secret; someone who would never say "I knew it." Shubam couldn't believe that Sherman had been unaware of our affair all this time. Up until six months ago when I'd told her to leave, unable to take any more. She'd begged to stay and asked me for comfort, but I knew if I let her back in we'd end up in bed together again—she'd leave without saying goodbye like always. Then suddenly she posted an proposal video on Instagram—it killed me inside and I still couldn't comprehend what had happened.
Kavita had her eyes on me, and I knew she must be wondering what kind of a failure I was. “Are you going to tell Sherman about Sitara and me?” I asked, though I knew it was probably a silly question. Even if she did tell him, would he believe her? Would this marriage be broken if he found out? Would Sitara come back? Did I even want her to return to me? Though it pained me deeply, I really just wanted to move forward at this point. The thought of doing so had crossed my mind multiple times in the last few years.
“Is this why you said this to me?” Her response pulled me out of my own thoughts. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. I was exhausted with trying to figure it out. I needed a break.
“No, I won't," She replied without hesitation. Her clear voice was enough to make me realize the truth. “Sherman isn't exactly an angel either.” So was he also cheating on Sitara with her?
“Not me. No way would I do that to Sitara. But everyone knows what kind of a guy he is." She looked away from me and back towards the dance platform, where some people were clearly drunk and enjoying themselves. Sherman and Sitara were close together, swaying with one another - it seemed like they were made for each other.
My gaze drifts towards Kavita. She is so attractive, and reportedly quite kind. I had heard a lot of praise from Sherman, who couldn't stop talking about her at his engagement party. Together they owned a jewelry line, before Kavita sold her portion to start an NGO that supports education in disadvantaged areas. Plus, she has even been featured in the Times as a published author. Out of curiosity, I read all of her posts and thoroughly stalked her.
“Do you know that Sitara doesn't like you?” I attempted to shift the conversation to something different.
She smiled and nodded before I could add more to the conversation. Then, she spoke up: “Still, I didn’t want to hurt her that way. I know how it feels to be cheated on–more than once.” Her comment broke through my self-loathing and made me realize what a mistake I'd made. There was no pairing of friendship between us; only lust. When we first slept together, I had said yes in an instant. Perhaps if I had taken the time to consider my obsession, things would have been different. We shared many nights together but never any mornings because during the day we were just friends. Whenever I asked her out for dinner, coffee, or a getaway, she always had an excuse not to go with me. Yet here were all these posts of her trips with other people populating my newsfeed! Every time I tried dating someone else, I treated them poorly–not calling them back or simply ghosting them when Sitara knocked at my door again. Finally, when I pulled away from her web of lies, she was already seeing Sherman and soon after accepted his proposal. When did I become this person? Was this really me?
“What are you looking at?” Her words brought me back to reality and I realized I had been staring at her without blinking. What was it about her eyes that made them so captivating?
“Sorry, I spaced out for a moment there. I'm sure you're wondering what kind of person I am? Well...I can't explain it myself." I couldn't bring myself to finish my sentence. Maybe that was intentional.
“No, I don't think it has to be that way. We all have messy feelings and it can drive us mad, doing terrible things.” Her honest answer made me feel good inside, and I couldn't comprehend why Sherman had hurt her like that, and I couldn’t help wondering why that asshole Sherman broke her heart.
“Yeah,” I hesitated. “So...” Why couldn't I think of anything to say to her? How could she look at me as if she could tell what I was feeling? Was I drawn to her? Well, yes. Just one glance and it was clear the other guys here felt the same way.
“Care to dance?” Her question made me pause. I felt her fingers link with mine as we walked towards the dance floor. I could tell people were watching us and heard the loud music blaring from the sound system, making it seem like something out of a Bollywood film. Everyone seemed intoxicated and I became aware of her hands on my neck while my own hands moved to her waist. My fingers grazed her waist. Her skin feels like silk. I saw her flinch, and her eyes get wider. I felt drawn to her and our bodies moved even closer together; I could feel her breasts pressed against me, her breath tickling my neck. Was she flirting with me or was she just very drunk?
“I'm not too drunk. I know what I want,” she murmured, and my mind stopped spinning when our eyes met. Had I had too much to drink? But I'd only had a few. Was she wanting me?
Again, I found myself walking in her wake. She pushed through the people around us and all I could do was follow her. Her eyes—and body language—requested that I stay close without having to say a word. We ended up at the back of the stairs and she leaned against the wall. I wanted to make sure it was consensual—that she truly wanted me there with her. My desire for her was palpable. My finger brushed against her strands as my heart raced. The gentle waves in her hair were both alluring and inviting.
“Are you sure?” I stuttered. She laughed, and it sent a shiver of energy down my spine, mixing both nervousness and anticipation together. Taking me by surprise, she lightly kissed me before asking if I was going to keep questioning her each step of the way. Her voice was low yet inviting as I let my hands rest on her waist. Her eyes were so wide like a boundless ocean.
The moment her lips touched mine, I was transfixed. Salted caramel is what she tasted like and I wanted to savor that flavor for as long as possible. As she started to pull away, I held her tighter. I wanted the kiss to go on forever, but all too soon it ended. I found myself lost in the sensation of her body pressed up against me, my hands gripping her curves, and my leg slipping between hers. Her fingers were playing across the back of my neck, eliciting a low moan from me. Everywhere our bodies touched felt electric and I wanted more. I looked at her face, flushed, and red, and those eyes on me. She kissed me deeply. I wanted to hold her. I can't believe it. In this moment, all I wanted was to be close to her with no barriers between us.
She paused and whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”. I nodded in agreement and she grabbed my hand before striding through the backyard of this very pricey place. Why was I following her lead? I trailed behind her, gazing at the strings of fabric attached to the back of her top that moved with the rhythm of each step she took. She glanced back and smiled. This was sure going to get me in a lot of trouble but maybe it was exactly what I needed: just her for a few brief moments.
