Adyansh Singh Rathore is insanely in love with his childhood best friend, his fiancée, Samaira Sharma. A mishap, a few misunderstandings ended up creating a chaotic whirlwind of circumstances leaving a baby in the hands of Adyansh. His baby, to be p...
Had he been a man with meagre income like Aman, I would no doubt offer to pay. But a billionaire like Adyansh Singh Rathore can afford a few bucks to pay in a small cafe, I am sure.
Howling up the food like I had been a starved man for decades, I did not give shits about my boss at the moment. He had already seen me at my most vulnerable stage- as a stood up bride. I did not give two fucks if he feels disgusted over my table manners.
A throat clearing diverted my attention. With a mouth full of food, I looked up. I am sure I looked no less than manjulika, with messy hair and smudged make up.
I raised my eyebrows in question when I saw my boss's eyes glued over my phone.
"I don't have your family or your best friend's number. I think you should switch your phone on, in case they need to reach you." He advised. Thankfully, he had no judgemental looks in his eyes. Except empathy, of course.
"Do the honous, please." I managed to let out. I felt like I would die if I stopped eating before the table full of food items were finished.
He took my phone from my side of the table gracefully, making sure he doesn't knock down any of the plates.
Switching the iPhone 13 Adyansh himself gifted me on completing one year in Arundhati textiles, completely for personal use, he kept it back at its original place. I had a separate set of devices for professional use, by the way.
Not even a minute later, a series of notifications chimed in the empty cafe. Gulping down the last piece of my bhature, I wiped my hands with tissues before I picked up my phone.
About thirteen missed calls awaited for me to call back. A few from my parents, a few from the relatives who missed the weddings and one from Trisha. All of them ranged between breakfast to lunch. None of them were recent.
Looking up at the time, it was midnight. The sign of messaging app blinked at the top of my notification bar. Pulling down the screen by my thumb, I gulped at the sight of Aman's contact.
I am sorry, Vaani. 8:06 pm
That's all?
"Up for some desert?" Adyansh asked me. Keeping my phone back at it's place, I nodded my head.
"What would you like? I'll be ordering for a chocolate flavoured sundae." He asked.
"I'll take the same." I muttered.
As the waiter set our delicious deserts infront of me, my phone chimmed yet again.
A bank notification this time.
I furrowed my eyebrows as I took my time loging in my account details.
My face contoured at Aman trying to access to our joint account set up for our honeymoon.
A joint account that was accessible to both of us, but financed by me. Hence, permission was required by my end.
Reporting a fraud, I blocked any activities with the account except from my end. I clenched my jaws as I tried to breathe in and out.
Digging into my sundae, I could see my boss being curious about my reaction yet not intervening.
"The asshole of your friend is trying to access to the funds I set up for our honeymoon. I wonder who he is going with now." I chuckled mirthlessly.
At the end of my chuckle another notification rung out. Banging my spoon back on the table, I picked up my phone.
This time, my heart really broke into two parts.
Dear customer,
Joy Tours and Travels here by inform you that certain changes were made on your initial honeymoon package.
The client name has been changed from Mr. Aman Iyer and Ms. Vaani Rudraksh to Mr. Aman Iyer and Ms. Navya Rudraksh.
Your last minute corrections would be made.
Thank you for approaching us for trusting with your honeymoon.
Team Joy Tours and Travels.
This is what betrayal looks like. This time I could not stop the lone tear traitoring through my eye.
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