The Forbidden Chase To Soar

19.Failed and Defeated

Having my attention, Srashti Leima, who had been shadowing Apeksha, wobbled her head in a polite nod.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Somani ?" she queried, her gaze fleetingly drifting to Apeksha before settling back on me.

The mask slipped on again, my countenance a meticulous replica of stoicism.

"Everything is fine," my tone revealed no bits of the inner havoc. "Keep close eyes until she is safely back home."

Exchanging another curt nod, I deviated my heels back to my car and then drove away.

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With a thud I slammed the glass on the bar counter, the golden liquid spilling in the process, my movement so unsteady that the empty glass beside it tripped over.

"Refill," I called out, beckoning a finger at the bartender.

A look of uncertainty crossed his face as his gaze surfed across the counter, clearly the number of empty glasses more than usual. I wasn't a heavy drinker and I would prefer a hot cup of coffee over a glass of alcohol any sane day.

But on this day, like every year, I wanted to drink until the alcohol dulls the surge of guilt, until my head is throbbing to the extent that the sneering voices dims. Until my senses are no longer in my control, until I am just an effigy of bones and flesh.

My phone kept vibrating incessantly, left discarded in the confines of my pants pockets.

Clutching the edge of the bar counter, I pulled myself on my feet and a sudden upsurge of dizziness spun my head, disorienting my steps to reel.

I took a moment to steady myself, the room slowing down gradually from the merry go round. Nodding at the bartender, I turned towards the exit, making my way through the crowd.

The familiar faces in the crowd made me halt in the middle, an invisible force tethering my body, senses clouding with the rush of rage and condemnation. As if feeling the intensity of my stare, their eyes searched around before landing on me.

My jaw locked, face a mastered canvas of indifference, refusing to give them the benefit of my reaction.

My brain was a stupid excuse in the name of quick decision making because they already reached me, pouring acid on my already sore self.

"Vyom, long time no see." I barely spared Nitya, my almost ex-financée, a glance, my gaze fixed on the man she had her arms around.

As I was about to walk away, the strident voice filled my ear, the voice itself pricking at my eardrums.

"Come join us for a drink, Vyom. Let's put aside the old grudges." Simultaneously, he raised his glass trying to showcase the earnestness in his words.

The fucker was doing an awful job in cloaking his unctuousness.

If it was possible, he would be lying in ashes like his brother, by how hard I was glaring at him.

"Let me make something very clear. I am not your friend or even acquaintance for you to address me with first name," I gritted out, the rage keeping the slur in my voice at bay. "And by no means am I interested in getting along with anything related to that trash."

The fawned smile dropped off Binod Reddy's face, crumbling into smithereens, leaving behind the ugly true mirror. Beside him, despite the makeup, Nitya's own face appeared blanched at my frosty behaviour.

Binod Reddy's nostrils flared, striving hard to keep his pretense of hospitality intact. "That's my brother you are talking about."

"You mean a rapist." I sneered, my words a sharp slice of a blade.