-• helpless •-
Taranya
Seeing Shourya again should have made me furious. It should have pissed me off. But that was far from it. If anything, I felt helpless. Like I had the very first time I met him. I used to think such helplessness was driven by the lack of skill to defend myself. It pushed me to do better, and I worked myself to the bone for three years, hoping the next time I see the man I hate the most, it wouldn't be anything like the past. It was exactly that.
Even when I had my knife to his throat, I was acutely aware of his every little movement, and I've mastered my blade enough to not make it lash against my will. I could have not cared if the knife had hurt him, but it bothered me, and the nasty realisation twisted a gut in my stomach.
"On your twenty third birthday, at 12 in the midnight, I'll be at your doorstep, with a ring in my hand, asking you to marry me."
The confession had me giddy back then.
Then it transformed into a bitter reminder of our intimate past.
Presently, it's my reality.
I've a hundred reasons to say no, I did too, but he didn't look like he cared. He looked proud, almost confident that ultimately my answer will be in his favour. That's what I hate the most about him. He stands in front of me, says the most ridiculous bullshit, and expects I move on and give him another chance. Except, that I did. Because I was a wrecked fool absolutely besotted by that man. Not anymore.
He can't fool me using revenge as a leverage. What did he think of me? That I'm still the same girl who could care less what mask he wore as long as he gave me bits of his attention?
No.
Shourya is a poison to my life.
He'll get me addicted.
And you don't feel that towards death.
It took me so much self loathing and sleepless nights to get him out of my system. After Dad's death, I was a shell. And his confession had just pushed me deeper into the pits. My father and I, we both trusted the wrong person. I'm sure Dad felt the need to sort their differences because of me. If only I hadn't asked Shourya out on a date, his colleague wouldn't have seen us get all cozy outside the cafe, and reported it to dad.
Shourya doesn't deserve my forgiveness, he doesn't deserve me.
I'm not marrying him.
No matter what, I'm not marrying him.
My brother might need his help as he says, but we can't be that powerless. He's trying to rile me up. He's trying to get under my skin using my weakness.
I want to avenge my father's death. But I'm not going marry that monster in exchange of his support. I'm sure we'll find some other way. All of our efforts cannot be at nought just because Shourya doesn't want to help us anymore.
Someone walks inside the room. Tarun's scent is stronger in his presence. His arm stretches forward, my phone in his hand. "Taranya-" grabbing my phone, I take the same hand and flip him in the air over my shoulder. He groans when his back crashes to the floor.
"That's for betraying me, you little fucker." I spit out before storming out of the room.
I abandon the idea of elevator and take the stairs. I need the physical exertion to drown out the mental blocks Shourya has put in my head, rubbing it off on my face that marrying him is my lost option. The man is excellent at making people feel helpless. I've been at the receiving end of his emotional manipulation once, I can't be dumb enough to fall for it again.
People start noticing my presence. I feel several hands touch my shoulder, some stop to ask me about my whereabouts, I ignore them all and head to the bar. "Water." I order the bartender.
He stops cleaning the glasses and pours water into one for me. As soon as I put the rim to my mouth, a body slides next to mine. "Where were you?" Agastya asks worriedly.
I clutch the glass in my hands, glaring ahead absent-mindedly. Agastya takes out his phone and I hear him call Janet to inform that I'm safe and sound. Then he hangs up and puts his phone on the counter, forcing my shoulder with the same hand so I sit facing him.
"Did something happen?" He frowns.
I shake my head. "No, just missing Dad." I throw in the first excuse I can think of. It's not a lie. The moment Shourya brought up my father's topic, it was all I could think about. The what ifs and buts are the villains of my thoughts.
He sighs in relief. "C'mon, the night has just started."
I smile and get off the stool. From the corner of my eyes, I notice Janet approach us. It's when she stands in front of me that I realise she knows. Maybe not the whole thing, but that I had gone missing temporarily because of him. We play pretense for the rest of the night, perhaps not wanting to spoil it for each other by talking about it. But then at five am we drive back home and she follows me to my room instead of going to hers. Tired or not, Janet isn't sleeping without knowing everything.
"What the fuck did he come for?" She snarls.
I turn around and remove the jacket Agastya had lend me when it started to get colder. Her furious outburst confuses me. Shourya has a knack at getting on people's nerve because of his holier-than-thou attitude. He often makes people around him feel inferior than him. But for that, you'll have to talk to him to rekindle that raw annoyance you feel towards the man, not just think about him.
The thought makes me ask her, "Did you meet him?"
She clenches her jaw, tightly enough to outline her molars. "What was he here for?"
"Three years ago he made a silly promise to me."
"What?"
"That he'll ask me to marry him once I turn twenty-three."
"Sounds far from silly given the way he ambushed your birthday night just to propose you," she retorts.
"Yeah, I realised that when he stood in front of me with the ridiculous offer." I snap back. "And what's with your attitude? He ruined my birthday. I was the one proposed out of the blue, without a damn ring. And also given an ultimatum to decide within three days, because guess what? He's getting engaged a week later! Wow!" I chuckle sarcastically. "My life couldn't be more happening!"
"He's getting engaged?" Her brows pull together. "To whom? That girl he's friends with for the last three years?"
"Yeah, her." I nod. "Friends, my foot. He always does this." I grit out. "The last time it was Akansha, now it's Niharika. As if he's rubbing it in my face that he's always going to have a second choice. It makes me feel helpless." I sit down with a thud.
"Why do you care?"
My head snaps towards her. "Huh?"
"Why do you care?" She enunciates. "You're not going to say yes, are you?" She walks over and settles down next to me.
"I don't want to."
"What do you mean you don't want to?" She grabs my arm, making me face her. "Do you still like him?" Pity fills her eyes.
"No!" I snatch my arm away. "Apparently, Niharika's grandfather is getting into politics. If I say no, Shourya will have to marry her. That automatically empowers the Chairman. According to Shourya, if he's forced in a matrimony with her without his will, he might as well reap the benefits of the relationship. And that includes sitting idle and getting served everything to him on a gold platter. He doesn't find the revenge worthy of the risk." I shrug.
She nods slowly, figuring what put me at the crossroads. "Makes sense."
"I was expecting an advise."
She mutters an apology.
We both fall in a comfortable silence. I was more inclined towards hearing her opinion on the mess I'm stuck in, considering my own head is of no use right now. Everytime I affirm myself on rejecting his proposal, memories with Dad slaughters the determination.
"He also implied that my grandfather died unfairly just like Dad."
She gasps. "No way-"
I nod.
"Okay, I get why you're confused. He's practically your only hope and he's trying to use that to his advantage." She mumbles in realisation. "But I'm sure there's a way out. I mean, okay, Rajawats are a big deal. But I'm sure your brother is no less. Talk to him. In fact, tell him about-"
"I can't." I cut her off. "Shourya warned me that if I tell my brother about his ridiculous offer, it's no longer valid."
She rubs the bridge of her nose. "What an asshole. I swear to God, if you two didn't have a history, I'd have punched the motherfucker in the face instead of letting him get away with a teeny-weeny slap."
My head whips in her direction. "You slapped him?"
"He made an unwarranted comment on my family's situation." She shrugs.
"Expected." I sigh. "He's infamous for using people's weakness to his convenience."
"Of course, that sexy as fuck existence cannot be perfect all over. Who knew it'd be his attitude that'll have the most flaws. Gorgeous shithead." She grumbles.
My face screws incredulously. "Are you complimenting him or criticising him?"
"Criticising, of course." She deadpans.
"Didn't sound like it."
Silence prevails again. This time, I take it as an opportunity to change into my night clothes and wash the make-up off my face. Janet goes into the bathroom after me and grabs one of my loose pants and t-shirt to put on before snuggling to my side on the bed.
I'm about to put the business card away when she takes it from me. "Is he staying here?" She flips the card backward to read the room number.
I hum.
She slaps it on the nightstand beside her head. "So, he wants your answer in three days?"
I nod.
"Why do I feel you've already made up your mind?"
"That I'll say no to him?"
"No." She contradicts. "If you were to say no, you'd have thrown the card away. You're taking time because you need to prepare yourself to say yes."
"What bullshit." I scoff and turn away, my back to her. I pull my knees closer and burrow my face in my arms. There's some truth in what she said. I'm preparing myself, not to say yes to him, but to say no to myself. I can't just forget about my dad's murder. I've suffered that pain long enough, it's the thirst for revenge that kept me grounded, not the hope that I'll forget it with time. I'm not confident enough to believe myself that we don't need his help.
Tomorrow, I'll be.
My brothers will arrive tomorrow morning. I'm sure I can get the update on how things are in Jaigarh from Yuvraaj. He'll tell me to not worry, that he has everything under control and that it's about time we see the fall of Abhimanyu Singh Rajawat. And we don't need Shourya to do that. We're very well capable on our own.
"He's engaged? But there's no news about his engagement circling the internet." Janet speaks, breaking me out of my thoughts. I turn on my back and stetch my neck to look into her phone screen. She tilts it so I can see comfortably. "Ah! I get it. If you say yes, he'll have to abruptly break up with her. And I don't think netizens will take that lightly. I mean, he's hailed and praised as a gentleman who can hurt no woman, of course he can't afford ruining his image." She nods. "Wait, does she not have a problem with that sort of arrangement? Is Shourya a magnet for chicks with low self esteem or something?" She scowls.
I blink, mortification washing over me.
"They're still friends for the world. He has everything planned to the T. Either way, he's not losing anything. Smart."
"Vicious." I correct.
"Viscously smart."
I'd seriously appreciate a friend who's not into reading controversial romances. Because I might have a problematic taste when it comes to men, but she sure as hell isn't helping the case.
"Good night." I turn back, squeezing the soft bolster in my arms before closing my eyes.
"He really waited for you to turn twenty-three so he can propose you. Impressive." She murmurs in the dark night.
I inhale a deep breath to calm down.
"He really likes you."
I stiffen.
"Or maybe, he lo-"
"Janet, shut up or I'm kicking you out of my room." A slight shuffling and then complete silence. She's fast asleep in a matter of minutes while I'm left restless on my side.
I know what she was about to say.
And I refuse to believe it.
Shourya and love?
Yeah, impossible.
I might be the object of his desires, but not love. I'd believe if he told me he's obsessed with me. Because he's the guy capable of such crazed, psychotic emotions. But love?
Love requires enormous courage, patience and understanding. He's the kind of man who believes in owning, branding and possessing what he wants, not winning, working and sacrificing for it.
He's not capable of love.
And I'm not delusional enough to believe he'll ever be.
Closing my eyes, I force myself to focus on my breathing rather than the needless thoughts. I'm barely able to lose myself to the deep slumber, but I manage to catch some sleep before the sun is shining beyond the horizon. Rays filter through the blinds. Sound of horns and mills fill the morning ambience. I snuggle close to the body next to me. Janet smells so fucking good. Since she's smaller than me in stature, I end up being the bigger spoon. She pulls over the covers and I sigh pleasantly.
"Good morning, sunshines." Agastya sings from the doorstep.
None of us bother to reply him.
"You two are borderline lesbians." He comments.
"Borderline?" Janet asks in a hoarse voice, ostensibly awake enough to match his wits. "Are you even best friends if you're not a little bit gay for each other?"
I chuckle, my face buried in her back.
"Don't tell me you two even kiss each other," my brother sounds grossed out.
Janet and I start making smooching sounds. Since we're inside the sheets, he doesn't see that we're actually pretending to. But the prospect of it is enough to traumatise my brother.
"Oh my God, you two are disgusting." He scampers out like a terrified cat.
Janet and I burst out laughing and finally throw off the mattress from our bodies. We hi-five, amusement lingering in the air as we pull off the bed and start cleaning the last night's mess. Janet puts our make up away, cleans the dressing room and puts off our shoes neatly. In the meanwhile, I fix the bed and put away the skin care products I left unattended in the bathroom.
"I'm going to my room. See you at the dining table." She calls out from outside.
"Sure." I shout back.
Once the door closes, I strip off my clothes and take a warm, relaxing shower. Then I put on fresh undies, wear one of the dresses Dad bought me and style my hair in a messy French braid and tie it off using a blue lace to match my pretty dress.
"Who's that girl shining so bright?"
I force a smile at my reflection. "Tara!"
An overwhelming onslaught of emotions washes over me so intensely I don't even get the chance to hold back a whimper before I'm already hearing it. I lean forward, holding the edge of the glass shelf and heaving myself over and over with every sob that breaks through my mouth. Distance is torturous when it's physical, but distance formed by time? That's so inexplicably excruciating you can neither explain, nor express. Because what's more heartbreaking than having to leave your loved one in the past while you move ahead with the present?
Why did he have to go so early?
So soon?
I had just got him.
He didn't need to be brave to be my father, he just needed to be there. That's all, that was always enough for me. I don't care how many people he had hurt in the past, I don't care how many wrongs he had to right, I don't care about anything except him. And I know it's selfish of me to think so, but I too wanted me and my brothers to be the only people he cared about.
"Tara?" An unexpected voice startles me. I cautiously turn around and walk out of the closet, freezing in my place when my eyes meet the familiar pair of amber eyes. A small gasps leaves his mouth. "Have you been crying, my love?"
My eyes tear up again and I sniffle. "I miss him."
Vivaan strides over to me and yanks me in his arms for a bone crushing hug. "I miss him too. We all do. But don't you worry, we have each other." His tender voice pulls at the strings I had carefully tied back.
And they come undone.
He holds me tighter as I offer myself a safe breakdown in his arms. I cry out softly. My words an incoherent mess clumsily strung together. But he grasps at each one of them, nodding slowly over my head. Agreeing with my stupid, wishful blabber, as I go on and on about how I wanted to celebrate my birthday if Dad was here.
When we pull away, he helps me clean my face and wipes the pad of his thumbs beneath my eyes. "Yuvraaj Bhai, Yuvaan and the twins are outside. They are waiting to meet you. Put on a brave smile for me," he croons.
I put on my best one.
"That's like my girl." He whispers. "C'mon, let's go."
Them>>>>>
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