Chapter 10 | Abhinav

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For two strangers who had met and gotten married roughly a month and a half ago, we had fallen into a routine faster than I'd expected. 

Day after day, I found myself helping Akshara at her coffee shop. Even when I didn't intend to drop by, or let's say even when I knew I shouldn't drop by, I still found myself on her doorstep. I'd lost count of how many times I'd lied and said I had a meeting nearby or found other convenient lies. I don't think she believed them anymore. 

Maybe I needed the lies for my own sake.

By the time her place was ready to open, it had felt like she had destroyed the small barrier I'd tried my best to put up between us. Something had shifted. It was there in the way she looked at me, or sometimes the way she wasn't looking at me. I wasn't sure just yet if it was a good change or what it exactly meant, but it was a change nonetheless.

I woke up earlier than I was used to. After having received another text from Abhimanyu Birla after Akshara went to bed, I had some issues sleeping. I sighed and got up, going straight to the gym in the next room. I couldn't think of any other way to work out my frustrations with myself and the situation. This business deal, Akshara, this marriage was the worst decision I'd made in my life because I was losing control and losing it fast. I was doing everything I'd thought I wouldn't do. Yet it was too late to back out. It'd been too late to back out ever since I'd met her at city hall.

I hated running, but I ran on that damn treadmill for over an hour, watching the night sky slowly change color as the sun replaced the moon. When I jumped off, I was still angry and frustrated to the point that I was ready to risk everything and come clean, even though I knew it wasn't the right time, that it might never be the right time.

I stopped and listened. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I'd been doing that ever since I woke up, but so far I hadn't heard a single noise coming from Akshara's side of the second floor or downstairs. I kept telling myself I wasn't her chauffeur; if she wanted to walk to work when it was almost dark outside, she damn well could. I had to mind my own damn business. She had gone places without me just fine before we had made this goddamn deal and gotten married. Yet my ears were still searching for the telltale signs of her stepping out of her room and rushing down the stairs as she did every morning.

Taking my shirt off, I walked to the small fridge in the corner and took out a water bottle. Draining it in one go, I threw it on the floor. Guilt was a very strong opponent to go to war with, and I couldn't seem to shake myself out of the funk I was in. When you added ex-fiancés into the mix...

I started on the weights until I was dripping with sweat. 

What was it with her? 

Why couldn't I stay away? 

What the hell was I going to do?

When I was done, I went back to my room to take a quick shower. Maybe it'd been a good thing that I hadn't been able to sleep. If by the time I was dressed, Akshara hadn't gotten up, I was going to have to wake her myself. With a towel wrapped around my hips, I checked the time as soon as I was out. She was late. I got dressed as quickly as I could and headed to her room, cursing myself for worrying the entire time. I was in this marriage for the property. I was in this marriage for the sake of looking like a family man. All I had to do was keep repeating it to myself.

Still a little worried, I wasn't exactly quiet as I knocked on her door.

"Akshara? I'm not your goddamn alarm."

Provoking her and watching her reactions was probably one of my favorite things in life at the moment.

No sound. After hesitating for a second or two, I pushed open the door only to see her bed was made and she was already gone. Had she left while I was working out or when I was in the shower? I grabbed my phone from my room and went downstairs. I was tempted to call and ask her if she had made it to work okay, but I thought better of it. I left my phone in the living room and went into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. What I brewed at home tasted just fine. I didn't need to go to her coffee shop every day just because she was my wife or because I enjoyed looking at her. 

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