Twenty-Six

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Anu

My chest tightens with a nervous heaviness as I walk through JFK's terminal. Weighed down my fear and confliction my feet drag along the tiled ground, deliberately slow as if to give me time to back out on my decision.

A nauseating lightness floats through my stomach when I step down the escalator seeing the commotion of photographers outside. In their midst, Aryan and Shreya waiting for me. Gripping the handle of my luggage, I force my head up sliding my sunglasses over my eyes.

"Anuksha! Anuksha! Is it true that you were pregnant?"

"Did you and Sidharth elope?"

"Are you and Sidharth still together?"

"Is there another woman in his life?"

"Are you dating someone else?"

Looking straight ahead I pull my lips in a tight line forcing myself to shut up before this turns into a media shit storm. Aryan pulls me to his side practically shoving me into the SUV. Leaning back against the beige leather seat, I feel the burn as I start to breathe normally again.

"That's what I call a welcome back," Aryan sticks his head out over the center console chuckling from the front seat. "Good to have you back di,"

"It's good to be back," for the sake of my little brother I force a smile to my lips when in reality I'm having a total breakdown.

What did I come back to?

My eyes daze over the familiar scenes of Manhattan with more dread than excitement for my return home. I thought I would feel free, the burden I have borne for months finally releasing me from its constricting grip but the deeper we drive into the city the tighter and heavier it becomes.

As if I wasn't already anxious enough to get to my new apartment to be alone, we get caught in midtown's rush hour bumper-to-bumper traffic. Screens flash with advertisements blaring with loud sounds and popping images that despite the noisy congestion of traffic I can still hear them.

In a city of so many people, the people closest to me, I can't help but feel lonelier than when I was actually alone. Absentmindedly I stare at the buildings and flashing lights taking nothing in and suddenly the wind is knocked out of me.

Left gaping, I slip off my sunglasses dropping it into my lap. I'm obviously hallucinating because of my medication because there is no way in hell what I'm seeing is real. A dangerous heat burns through my veins setting a fire in the pit of my stomach. Tight, my jaws grind against each other sending piercing shocks up to my skull.

Son of a bitch.

I let it consume, rage, deep burning rage. And it feels so good.

Smiling through hysterics I shake my head still unable to believe it. Sidharth Rai is Forbes Magazine cover issue of the month.

Life's Second ChancesOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora