Crossing The i's And Dotting The t's

Epilogue

Eleven years later

It seemed like the residents of National Capital Region were facing yet another consequence of climate change in the form of unexpected, heavy downpour in the middle of December.

The unwelcome rain, accompanied with frosty wind, was enough to dampen the mood of even the happiest person alive. No pun intended.

The shivering girl, or rather a grown, mature and successful Orthopaedist of a woman, was tapping her four inch heel clad foot impatiently. Dripping wet and almost growling with frustration, she was fully aware that her mother was making her wait on purpose.

With a twinge of guilt she realised that she quite deserved her ma's wrath after that morning's argument. But she did not dwell much on the thought, too angry to feel guilty.

Another ten minutes passed and she started to regret convincing her father against installing automatic locks on the front door. For surely, it would have been much easier to let herself in the house if the lock was accommodating to a person locked outside.

As it was, however, the house keys in her shoulder bag were quite useless at the moment, seeing that the door was firmly bolted from inside.

Finally, five minutes later, the inner wooden door was swung open, revealing the kind face of her mother, which was presently taut with anger. It immediately softened, however, as she took in her daughter's appearance.

Gasping, she hurriedly unlocked the outer iron grill door and ushered her inside.

"Honey you're soaking! What happened?" her mother spluttered.

"Nothing," the young woman replied, removing her sky-high heels and placing them on the shoe rack before dropping on the couch in the living room. "Just my car broke down."

"Well then, go change and dry your hair, I'll heat dinner." That was what she loved about her mother, her tendency of not nagging even when she was worried.

"No need to ma, I've already eaten, you should go sleep, staying up is not good for your blood pressure." The small lie rolled off easily from her tongue, despite knowing that her mother wouldn't buy it. But at that moment, she wanted to be alone.

If the older woman suspected anything, she didn't let it show. Too used to the elusive nature of her daughter, she just bent down to kiss her forehead and went to bed.

Alone, the girl released a shaky breath and dragged herself to her feet. Entering her room, she went straight to the en suite bathroom, the need to splash her sticky face making her hands twitch.

When the chilled water made contact with her sensitive skin, her senses jumped alive and whatever feelings she had kept at bay since earlier that afternoon came rushing back to her.

She had expected to feel heartache, but all that her body could manage to produce was the bitter taste of anger and betrayal. Three years. She had wasted three goddamn years on an asswipe only for him to go behind her back and get engaged to the first girl who replied to his message on some shitty matrimonial website.

Imagine her surprise when pictures of their official ring ceremony—complete with distant relatives and everything—filled all her social media. Her boyfriend suddenly got engaged to another woman while she was busy fixing bones.

He didn't even have the decency to break up with her first, or to just inform her.

She hated him for humiliating her in the worst way possible, for all the pitying looks she endured from fellow staff members at the hospital throughout the day.

She hated him for not having a proper explanation when she had finally managed to confront his stuttering self in his office.

"I'm sorry A. I wanted to tell you but you were not in the city and I couldn't postpone the function, invites had been sent out. I love her y'know? She's like my soul mate. I really had no intention of hurting you honestly. Hope you'd attend the wedding."

She was shocked by his delusional assumption. Attend his fucking wedding? Given her gory thoughts about torturing the man in front of her in a hundred ways, he would've been lucky if he was able to make it to his own wedding in one piece.

She didn't even bother trying to ask him why he couldn't tell her anything before she had left for the annual medicine conference, held at Hyderabad every year. Clearly, he had decided to marry this so-called love of his life way before.

But no, all she did was give him a look of deep disgust before storming off, deciding that his worthless self did not deserve a response, or even a hurl of abuses from her. Her dignity was crushed to the ground but she managed to pick it up.

Tears would come later, she knew that. But for now, all she wanted to do was to curl up in bed and call in sick tomorrow. Sadly, the latter wasn't possible since she had to perform two surgeries the next day.

Sighing as her aching muscles met the soft surface of the mattress of her queen-sized bed, she started checking her messages for the first time that day. Most of them were from her mother and a couple were sent by her assistant to remind her of her appointments tomorrow.

Though what caught her eye was another, more glaring notification from a person whose last message to her had been a simple "Happy Diwali" sent over two months ago.

In her usual style, this old friend of hers had spammed her with ten texts titled "IMPORTANT" in bold block letters, followed by the actual body of the message. She stared at the little green text bubble, not really registering the contents for a few minutes.

"I'm getting MARRIED!! You HAVE to be there, NO EXCUSES (lol say hi to aunty). The formal invitation would reach you by Tuesday at the most. BOOK YOUR TICKETS NOW!! It's a destination wedding at Diu, exotic right?

.

.

.

Btw...I've invited everyone. Everyone from the old gang. ;)

She could only gape at the modern version of post script (by the way). Everyone she thought.

"Well shit."

{[]}

The end? Yeah, for now. 

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