"All that was, all that is, and all that will ever be"
Will love be the strongest force that holds them together or be the ultimate tragedy that breaks them apart?
With death looming like a sword over their heads, endless efforts of a lover to prot...
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Anu
I knew that somehow I would end up running into Sidharth. He's been away for eight years, vanished from New York and suddenly turns up on a fine day in June as the CEO of Rai Consolidated, his family-owned multibillion-dollar company. His promises of keeping in contact after he went off to college fell short when he stopped replying to text messages, ignoring my phone calls and completely freezing me out of his life. So, I was in no mood to reconcile.
His name alone carries power and popularity so unfortunately for me I am bound to run into my ex-boyfriend somewhere or the other. The summer usually ends with three major events with a crowd gathering from masses all over the country. The first being the charity auction hosted at the Mandarin Oriental where top fortunate-five-hundred companies come together and select a charity to support. The second is the gala hosted at The Plaza hotel by my father for his company, colleagues, and family. The third event is the weekend of Labor Day in The Hamptons to end off the warm weather.
Sidharth has been absent from all of these events for countless years now but with his reappearance into our town, I'm sure as hell he will be in perfect attendance rubbing elbows with fellow corporate people and tossing back scotch like clockwork. I dreaded having to see him. The awkward conversation of exchanging pleasantries, acting like we're still friends, and somehow act like the memories we shared with each other didn't even exist was just too exhausting to think about much less actually do.
I had dance class today. During the summer Saroj kaki, my dance teacher, usually gives the girls a break from the strict Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday from four to six schedule. The grueling commitment to dancing under her instruction is something I've been doing since I was four years old. From since I could comprehend what a Taal was I have been on the dance floor. Now I'm her dedicated assistant of teaching the senior group of dancers, which consists of mostly teenage girls in high school.
The dance studio was in midtown and from my parents' house in Scarsdale a good forty-five-minute drive and in this hour of the day an extra fifteen minutes for traffic. Pulling up to the curb I jump out my car and slip money into the parking meter. I have a parking spot reserved in the parking garage down the block but I'm already running late.
I don't wait on the elevators I scale the steps two, three at a time climbing up to the seventh floor of the building. The chime of my paayal echoes in the stairwell as I jump from one step to next clutching the strap of my side satchel to my chest as it bounces against my hip. I hate being late. Pushing the heavy metal door that leads to the hallway of the floor I run across the shiny white tile floor with my flip-flop flopping. Darting through the wooden door of the studio with haste the entire room falls silent as I let out my heavy pants for breath.
"Oh good you're here! I thought we would be without you. Aren't you supposed to be with that boyfriend of yours?" Saroj kaki walks up to me placing a tender hand on my shoulder holding a bottle of water in the next. Right, I haven't really broken the news yet to her.
