"What was that?" I force myself to ask my parents before they can leave.
I'm too angry to process the looks on their face, too angry to care. At this moment, I didn't care what was going to happen, if I was going to hurt people, I was too hurt to care. I need answers, explanations and that's all I know.
"Why did everyone else know, except me?"
I clench my jaw together, trying not to blink so the tears don't tumble down my face. I am acutely aware of everyone's presence and my father's emotionless face; he looks almost indifferent.
"You agreed to the wedding," my father points out.
Growing up as Naveen Ravichander's daughter, I'd always known his insensitivity. It wasn't new, but the indifference that reflects on his face at this very moment shatters my heart like never before.
"I agreed to the wedding. Not the wedding dates." The growing lump in my throat makes it insanely difficult to utter any more words without breaking down in the middle of the living room.
I clench my jaw, in a desperate attempt to hold onto my tears, but from the flash of disgust in his eyes, I know I look like I'm going to burst into tears any minute now, which I am. Acting like things didn't matter is something I'd learned from my father, but I wasn't my father. There is a limit to the amount of nonchalance I could showcase.
"Don't cry, Arvi," he commands, like my tears are going to vanish because he said so. "You always let your emotion get the better of you." There it is. Naveen Ravichander's famous line as said to his daughter.
I grit my teeth, not letting the tears fall. Refusing to blink my eyes, for the fear that the tears would start flowing out my eyes. This is the final straw. I had been here for a month, and I hadn't spoken to my father for more than two minutes at a stretch. I hadn't ever spoken to my father for more than two minutes at a stretch. For as long as I could remember I always thought my father was a man of few words. But the thoughts creeping into my mind at this very moment, said otherwise. Maybe there's just nothing he'd say to you.
"We're talking about my wedding. How else should I speak about it? Like it's some business deal?" I take in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm myself.
"Stop putting your emotions first, Arvi," he says, "Try to think, not feel."
Disbelief courses through my body, "You want me to think about my wedding? My wedding is six months away? The wedding I had no clue about?" I question. My tone sounds eerily foreign even to myself. It sounds... cold. "Why does everyone else know? You're making decisions about my life, without including me? You--"
I'm cut off by his angry voice, "I am your father. I know what is best for you."
Isn't anger an emotion?
"And I am a person, a person with a life that you want to control so much that you won't tell me when you make decisions about my life?" I ask, letting my anger get the better of me. "How do you know what is best for me, anyway? It's not like you call me or talk to me," I say sarcastically, "Oh, wait. Maybe it's those Private Investigators that tail me around?" I notice the look of surprise on his face, and I like it. I like that he lost his composure because of me. "You think I wouldn't notice when someone is following me? You're so busy that you can't make one bloody phone call. You pay people to report to you about me. Why?" Because he doesn't trust me.
"Because I am concerned about you. Maybe you thought you could just stay away and be away from everything. That you could be normal. We are constantly worried about your safety. You are not normal, Arvi." Naveen Ravichander never explains himself.
"You should have put a bloody tracking chip in my head," I tell him and walk away, leaving everyone standing there. Before I start up the stairs, I turn around, "You know what you did was wrong. That is why you explained yourself."
I don't wait to hear him out or to register the look on his before I run up the stairs in three-inch high heels. By the time I reach my room, the adrenaline wears off, and mental exhaustion settles in. I sniffle and wipe the tears off my face. I ended up crying in front of everyone down there, didn't I?
it doesn't matter, though. I felt good; lighter. I had held back on a lot of things but it is okay. Telling my father off isn't something I ever thought I would do. I respect him too much for that.
~.~.~.~.~
"Arvi, I understand you're angry, but you can't just leave like that," my mother nags, sitting on the opposite edge of my bed.
I don't look up from my laptop. Angry doesn't begin to define what I am feeling. I am way beyond angry, and I'm hurt; deeply. "It's a business trip," I tell her tersely.
"And why so suddenly?" she demands, in her righteous position of my mother.
At this, I look up, making sure the irritation is evident on my face. "There are things I need to get done in London."
Rohan rushes into the room excitedly, "Arvi Akka, when are we leaving for the airport?" My mother looks away from me to glare at him. He passes her a sheepish grin, before turning his eyes away from her, hesitantly.
"Day after tomorrow. Early morning."
He walked away, with his phone in his ear, talking to someone.
When Rohan heard I was going to London on a business trip, he emotionally blackmailed me into taking him along. He then extended the invitation to Aryan, who was too much like me. Nothing would stop Aryan from the prospects of travel. I empathise with him.
"When are you coming back?" my mother demanded.
"I don't know."
"Will you come back at all, Arvi?" Her voice is low, hopeless.
I bite back animosity, as I say the following words: "Do I have a choice?"
I raise my eyes to look at her dark brown ones, a shade or two darker than my own. She looks hurt, slightly, but nods anyway.
"I am sorry about announcing your wedding like that. Your father is, too."
He is my father, "He can say it to me himself if he is."
Both of us know it won't happen. It has been two weeks since I saw him. It's not very hard. He stays in his room, and I stay in mine. It's sort of a given. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have been counting the days since I last saw him.
I hadn't been talking to Karthik, Kaushik, Pranav, or my father. I wouldn't be talking to my mother either, if not for the fact that she just won't leave me alone. Karthik tried to get me to talk to him.
I look at the time on my screen, he should be here anytime now. On cue, there's a knock on my door and after a minute Karthik walks in. He wouldn't knock, not usually. Now, he knows I won't give him an answer even if he knocks. He knocks just to give me a heads-up before he walks in. He shouldn't be doing that.
I talked to him in the office under circumstances concerning work, if extremely necessary. Otherwise, I either send him a text or an e-mail. He notices my mother is sitting here. He looks between the two of us, trying to figure out the atmosphere.
Every day, I would flip him off. I would have done the same today, too. If not for my mother. Not because I was worried she would scold me. There's no way she would do that. Not now, anyway. But I didn't want to give her a reason to, in case she decided to disregard the fact that I was shitting mad at her.
Karthik sits on the opposite side of the bed, beside my mother. "You're leaving tomorrow?" he asks.
He knows when I am leaving. I don't bother looking at him. "Did you have someone send the mails to Pranché and Khan?"
I was currently signing off the same mails. Luckily for me. Since he was asking, I added his mail in the BCC column, and click on send. Karthik's phone pings almost immediately, and he swipes his phone open to check the notification. He looks at me when he sees what it is.
Seeing that I have nothing to do, I find an excuse to ignore them. "I need to pack." I indirectly ask them to leave as I shut my laptop down and plug it in to charge.
"Arvi, I am sorry," Karthik repeats like every day.
"Nice to meet you. Please leave now," I motion to the opened door. He sighs tiredly. He must be tired, he went to Bangalore in the morning and came back in the evening.
I feel guilty for pushing them away, but only momentarily.
Karthik leaves, banging my door shut on his way out. Anger surges through me, and I want to yell at him for doing that. Why the heck would he do that? To get a reaction out of me.
I grit my teeth, stopping myself from running out the door and picking up a fight with him. Just what he wants.
Trying to ignore him, I look at my mother. Silently asking her why she hasn't left yet.
"I understand that you are angry at us, but you should tell Gayatri and Arjun that you're going out of town. They are your family now." Arjun. I hadn't talked to him after the night at the club. I saw him at the party, I had been observing him throughout the party, but I hadn't spoken to him after. He hadn't tried to speak to me either, but I was fine with that.
What would I say if I called him, anyway?
"I will," I confirm with a nod.
I will tell Gayatri Aunty. She would tell Arjun, wouldn't she? That will make my work easier.
My mother nods back at me before she leaves me with my thoughts. I pick up my phone to call Gayatri Aunty.
The phone rings, but no one picks up. Assuming she is busy, I put my phone down and switch on the TV. I did tell them I was going to pack, but I don't pack until the very last minute. Packing excites me too much, and I can't wait to leave. It sort of picks up my anxiety.
I flick through shows and movies on Netflix, trying to find something watch-worthy. They are your family now. My mother's words flash in my idle mind suddenly. What does that mean, they are your family now?
Gayatri Aunty.
I dab the tears away from the corners of my eyes and take in a deep breath before picking up the phone. "Hello?" I say into it, and curse myself when my voice comes out so sad.
"Hello, Arvi?" Her voice sounds concerned.
Shit. I always do let my emotion get the better of me, don't I? I take in another breath, and calm myself, "Hi, Aunty," I say cheerfully this time.
"Hi, darling, are you fine?" she asks, "Why do you sound so low?"
I switch off the TV and sit up straight. "Me? I'm completely fine, Aunty." I'm also a world-class actor.
"Okay," she doesn't sound very convinced, but she lets it slide, "You called? I just went down for something and forgot to take my phone with me."
"Oh, yeah," I called her. "Um," I hesitate. How do you do this? "I-uh-I just--" I break off. Why is this so difficult?
"Arvi, darling, is everything alright?" she asks again.
I facepalm myself for getting her so worked up. "Yes, yes, of course. Everything is alright. I just wanted to-" No, rephrase. "Uh, I'm going to London?" No, I am going to London. Don't ask her, shit-head, tell her. "I'm going to London, Amma said I should let you know, too."
"Oh," she says relieved, "That's great. A business trip, is it?"
I get off my bed, and stand up, rubbing my forehead, "Uh, yes. Sort of. Rohan and Aryan are also going with me. Well, they're going on a vacation, but I have some work, too."
"That's wonderful," she says cheerfully, "When will you come back?"
"I'm not very sure, school starts soon for the boys. But it depends on how much work I have. A week or two at the most?" I offer.
"Okay," she says, "Have fun. Don't work yourself too much, alright?"
"Don't worry about me, Aunty. I'm too lazy for that anyway," I joke, to ease her.
She chuckles, and then in a thoughtful tone, she says, "Don't call me Aunty, alright? I'm also like your mother now. You can call me Ma."
Ma? But that's my mother. This is my mother-in-law.
"I will call you Athayya," I tell her, and then I realise that I might have offended her. "It's not because you're not like my mother, Aunty," I assure her. "It's just that... you're different. You are my mother-in-law. I get to have only one mother-in-law." I tell her, "I see you both in the same light, but our relationship is special, different."
She chuckles, "Okay, you can call me anything you like."
From her cool tone, I know I haven't offended her, so I feel at ease. I contemplate asking her to tell Arjun, but from the conversation, I've learned enough to know that she worries too much. Instead, I say bye and hope she tells her son that I called her.
~.~.~.~.~
Karthik's PA, Preeti, spots me taking photocopies of some documents in the Supplies room, and quickly walks over. "You should have asked me to, ma'am," she says.
I smile at her, "I figured your boss gives you enough work to worry about, I can always take a couple of photocopies by myself."
She smiles back at me unsurely, but I don't say anything else. I pick up all the papers and stack them together before putting them in a file.
I start to walk out of the Supplies room, when Preeti speaks up, "Ma'am?" she calls unsurely.
I turn to look at her. "Hm?" I look up from the documents.
She shakes her head, nervously. "Next time, you can tell me. I will do it for you," she says hesitantly.
I honestly don't know why people seem to be so scared of me. I smiled at her. I was nice to her, and she's scared of me? Why?
I nod and make my way out of the room. I push open the door to my office with my back, still going through the papers to check the order.
The scent of the spicy cologne makes me look up from the file, and at the source of the scent. There, sitting on the visitor's chair is my beloved fiancé. My heart thuds dangerously hard against my chest.
Heat creeps up to my cheeks just because of a single glance from him. He looks pissed. What did I do to piss him off anyway?
His black eyes are angry, his hair looks messy like he had been running his hands through it, his straight nose is ever-so-slightly flared, and his lips are pressed together in a thin line. His sharp jaw is clenched, making it more prominent. I conclude pissed-off is a good look for Arjun.
"What are you doing in my office?" I force myself to ask when he doesn't say anything.
"You are going to London." Is that a question or a statement?
"Do you already know or are you asking?"
His eyebrows arch perfectly onto his forehead, mockingly, "I don't know. Did you tell me?"
That's what this is about? That I didn't tell him? "Why should I tell you?" I ask him, walking the few steps to my table and put the documents down on the table.
He swivels in his chair, away from the table and stands up. "Why did you tell my mom?" he asks, towering over me.
My eyes flit to the entrance of my cabin. The door is closed, and so are the blinds. I had left them open when I left the room. Well, looks like Arjun Kona is well-prepared.
I take a step away from him. Maintaining the distance between our bodies is very important. Especially when talking to Arjun.
I take a few steps to the other side of my chair. "I, uh," I fold my middle finger to pop my knuckles but stop when his gaze shifts down to my hands. I flex my hands, desperate for some outlet, but Arjun's gaze makes me conscious.
I rub my forehead with my index finger, "I, um, well, family?" Bad, bad answer. Stay the fuck away from Arjun. He hinders my brain's thinking capacity.
A single daunting eyebrow arches into his forehead. "How is that?" he asks, his tone low and dangerous. The lighting in the room, as the sun sets, with the blinds drawn, doesn't really help my case.
I cover my face with my hands, "I-you-well-you know?" I offer. No, he doesn't. What did I tell him anyway?
"I don't. Please explain," he says, as he casually leans on the table. His eyes never leave mine. Oh, what is so scary about his dark eyes anyway? Say something, you shit-head.
"Um, I'll tell you now?" I offer. Pissed-off Arjun is fucking scary.
"Oh. You will?" His long hand reaches for the coffee mug on the other side of the table. He brings the cup to his lips, sipping from it. "But why should you tell me at all?"
"I-uh-well-you--" I break off into a sigh, slapping my hands to my face. What the fuck is happening?
"Is that your answer to everything? Pretty mouth only runs when I'm not around?" It has more to do with the distance between the two of us, actually.
"The last time I spoke to you was in the club on Saturday night. And that was two weeks ago. I wanted to give you space, I saw how you took to the announcement. But if you're leaving the country, and going to a different time-zone"--I open my mouth to object, I wasn't leaving, but he cuts me off-- "Don't you think I deserve to know at least that much?"
Guilt-tripping 101. Fucking hell. "I wanted to tell you, I just didn't know how to," I confess in a low tone.
"It's very simple, really. You pick up the phone and call me. I'll pick up the phone if you ever call me"--he gives me an accusatory glare for emphasis--"And you can tell me. Do you want me to write the dialogue for you?"
My lips turn into a slight guilty pout, that I consciously push back in. "You don't have to be so sarcastic," I tell him.
"All I want is that you tell me when you're leaving town, is it too much to ask for?" Okay. I definitely feel guilty. But why?
"Okay," I say carefully, "Don't get angry or anything, but why should I tell you?" It is a genuine doubt. I had no idea why I was feeling guilty for not telling him, or why he was so pissed off that I hadn't told him.
He turns me to dust with his fiery glare. "Because I care, Arvi. Because I'm going to marry you. Because I feel responsible for you." Oh. Oh. Oh.
I generally do not respond well to affection but something about what Arjun just said ticked me off. "You don't have to feel responsible for me. I'm not a kid, Arjun. No one needs to feel responsible for me. I can handle myself."
Arjun's glare intensifies. "Can you, Arvi?" he asks, "Can you take care of yourself? Is that why you're running away?"
Rage floods through me, and that is the only possible reason I can find as to why I walked to Arjun. "I am not running away."
"You are running away," he taunts, a devious smirk graces his face, "That's what you do when you can't deal with things; when things are not to your liking. You run away." He slides onto my office table, seating himself on it, and even then, his feet touch the ground.
"Don't fucking psychoanalyse me. I am not running away from anything!" I take another step towards him.
"Then why are you going to London two weeks early? Aren't you doing enough work concerning the Pranché-Khan venture? Why do you need more work now? Why are you going to London when there's so much you need to do here?"
"Shut up, Arjun. Just-- shut up. Don't talk about things you don't know anything about."
He leans down into my face. "Is that all you can say, Arvi? Shut up? You don't like the bitter truth is all."
I know that better than anybody else. "Don't talk to me like that," I grit out.
"Like what?" he breathes into my face, his breath smells sweet, like coffee.
Anger. That's all I can feel, and Arjun is loving this game he's playing. I know. I can see it on his face. "Maybe I do run away when things are not to my liking. Maybe right now, I'm running away from you. Because I don't like you."
I was trying to rile him up and riled up he was. "You don't like me?" He clenches his jaw, "What is it that you were asking of me in the car, the other day?" he asks, "Right. To apologise to you? To apologise to you for kissing you? If you really don't like me; if I am the reason you're running away, say those words again. Tell me to apologise to you for kissing you."
Every fibre in my tongue resisted the notion. "Don't tell me what to do," I found myself saying.
He gently slides off the office table, now incredibly close to me. His hands come around my waist firmly, and before I can register what he's doing he pushes me against that table, landing his hands on either side of me.
"Say it, Arvi," he dares, "Say the words, and I'll apologise to you."
No, I don't want him to apologise for the kiss. "Say the words," he taunts, breathing onto my face.
"Can't say it, can you?" he jeers, his black eyes boring into mine.
I try to open my mouth to say something, anything. A retort, at least. But I can't.
"It has to do with the fact that you don't want me to apologise to you," he explains, "Because you like me. Because if you didn't, I wouldn't be standing here,"--he moves closer--"So close to you, without getting punched in the face."
I look into his black eyes for a second. My eyes flutter close involuntarily when he leans in. Arjun's lips descend on mine and all caution and logic are thrown out of the window.
Arjun isn't just a charming-and-sweet annoying ass. He's so much more. He's fatal, to me.
A/N
So... what do you think about the chapter? Arvi confronting her dad? Her dad's response to Arvi?
Do you think it's justified for Arjun to be pissed-off at Arvi for not telling him about her trip to London?
Or do you think Arvi should've just told Arjun about it?
Do vote, comment and let me know. I love hearing from all of you!
Love,
A.