All Strings Attached

Chapter Four

"Where are you?"

"I'm out, shopping with Meera," I answer. "Have you seen the news?"

"That's not even something to be concerned about, Sita," he says, "they're just stupid pictures."

"The ones they are telecasting now are stupid pictures," I agree, "I'm worried because I think they might have more of them."

"What pictures?" He asks, slowly.

How drunk was Dhushyanth, last night?

"Oh my god," I curse, "I think I might cry," I say out loud as I feel my heartbeat quickening with anxiety. "You don't remember."

"I don't even remember how I got home," Dhushyanth says, "did we do something last night?"

"What do you mean—" I hear another voice, but I hear a soft thump and they are cut off.

"Am I on speaker?" I wonder, nearly dissolving into tears at this moment.

"Not anymore," Dhushyanth says, his voice sounding softer now. "Are you okay? Calm down, I'll figure this out."

"This is so stupid," I mutter, "you are so stupid. I am so stupid. I should't have— they're going to force me to marry you— what am I going to do? I can't marry you," I cry, "you want to be a politician, and you smoke, and god knows how many girlfriends you have— I can't believe I let this happen."

"I said I'll take care of it," Dhushyanth repeats himself, sounding pissed off. "Let me talk to my parents."

"You can't talk to your parents about this?" I screech, face palming myself. "You should've just put me on speaker with them as well. How are you going to take care of it by telling your parents?"

"Trust me," he says, making me want to pull my hair out in frustration.

"You said the same thing last night! Look where it landed us!"

"Sita," he calls out calmly, "listen to me. I said I'll take care of it. I will take care of it."

"How are you going to take care of anything?" I ask him, my anger simmering down to helplessness. "What are you going to do?"

"Let me see. You will be fine, don't worry."

"What do you mean I will be fine?" I ask, "are you not concerned about yourself? We're both going to get so much flak for it."

Dhushyanth chuckles, making me break out a smile as well. "Let's deal with one thing at a time. Stop stressing out so much, I will take care of it."

"Can you keep me updated?" I ask him.

"I can do that," he assures me in soothing tones. "I will let you go now. Stop freaking out so much."

"Okay."

When I enter the store after my chat with Dhushyanth, I see an impatient Meera, tapping her foot as she stands at a counter, making the salesperson pull something out for her.

She turns to look at me with a straight face. "Which colour?" She questions.

"Madam, the deep pink will look really good on your complexion—"

"I didn't ask you," she cuts off the salesperson, bluntly.

I smile at him, apologetically, knowing she's behaving that way because of me. "I think the pink, or because it's a wedding— green would look good too."

"I like the blue," she says, pointing at a saree.

"That looks good too," I agree, not wanting to annoy her, "but don't you already have a kanchee saree in that colour?"