8. Crossing the Paths

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Land shook underneath my feet, and as if, not able to handle my own weight, I stumbled. Quickly, Rahul's hands were on my waist, steadying me but it wasn't much soothing.

The ache had already erupted, wrapping its curtains around my whole body.

My hands shook, and the phone was snatched from my hands. I didn't care to yell at him for snatching my phone, too consumed by the words. I imagined Kabir saying them to me, rolled the moment in my head until I couldn't handle it anymore and squeezed my eyes tightly. Tears had settled on the lids of my eyebrow, and I didn't care if they would fall.

I rested my back on the cold metal and stared ahead at the buttons.

"You had seen it coming," Rahul whistled.

From my disarray state, I glared at him, outraged how his words were true.

"Anyway-" he released the phone back into my hand, glimpsing down at me. "Get up. We need to get moving."

The elevator dinged, and the doors parted. I stood up, peeled myself from the wall and steered out without bothering to pass him a glance. But I didn't have to worry because he caught up with me and started babbling.

"I should've expected you would take the costly suite, princess."

"The hotel is mine."

He tsked. "Correction. The owner is Kabir."

"He's my brother."

"But you don't act like a sister anymore." Halting in my tracks, I swirled and took a deep breath, controlling my nerves. The nails dig into my palm, leaving the bite marks.

"Rahul, do me a favour and leave me alone. I don't want to go anywhere." I didn't give him a chance of any speech and turn around. Showing my card to the machine, I entered the room and was about to close it, when his feet intruded my actions.

He pushed the door and walked to the small living room, and whistled again.

"Some suite you have. Suitable for your name, princess." He sat on the purple sofa and propped his feet on the top of the table. My lips curled in a scowl, but I didn't say anything and went to the small refrigerator located beneath the LCD panel and took a bear out.

Sitting in front of him, I open the lid and took a quick swung, and I didn't stop until the whole bottle was empty. Rahul's stare didn't wander from my face. Instead, his face was stoic, and he leaned back into the sofa. Feeling more rebellious, I took another and started doing it, but I should've changed my gaze instead of staring at him.

His gaze was hard, and my hands were trembling around the bottle. I never trembled. I started feeling bad and regretful for drinking like I was destroying a part of myself bit by bit. He needed to change his stare, but instead, he yawned and stretched his arms above his shoulder like he was the least concern if I drown myself in theses bottles.

Why was I feeling that? How could he make it seem so wrong by just one stare? Why was his ignorance affecting me?

Not having the heart to complete it, I thumped the half filled bottle on the glass table and let my eyes wander around the suite. The cream walls, the bar at one corner—filled with the richest drinks, the dark sofa set but what attracted me the most was the golden chandler hung on the ceiling, giving the whole suite an extravagant look.

Removing my heels, I pushed my feets into the soft carpet, feeling the fur create a tingle.

"Now madam, shall we go on our trip?" Ignoring his sarcastic tone, I switched on the TV, settling on the old Cricket match.

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