5.
Aaditha
What Happened Last Evening?
My head is so heavy, I’m having difficulty keeping it straight. I look at the clock on my office desk sideways.
There is a good twenty minutes to go before Vedveer Rathore Singh comes knocking. The Rathores were punctual yesterday, but that could be because of the parents.
I pull out my phone to message Lavanya.
We had a bottle each of some ridiculously expensive red last evening. Lavanya’s idea of a celebration after I tell her the prince is just as uninterested in this archaic match as I am.
The elitist snob, who spent most of the hour at our place pretending I didn’t exist, condescended to throw an arm around me for the photograph. Not that he had a choice; the photographer was practically begging.‘Please, sir, Aaditha Maydam, come close.’
Lavanya and I said cheers to jailbreak.
In the next hour or so, the prince and I will put finishing touches to our hitherto unspoken plan before he does the good deed for the day and calls off thisroka.
Lovey:It was nice running into VRS last evening.
ME:Easier to bury the body now!
Lovey:What body? You were giggling away with him last evening!You’llmake a handsome couple BTW!
ME:Savage!I must’ve laughed once or twice. I had to be cool. We just bumped into him.
Lovey:Right. Maybe I was high and seeing things, but I thought you guys smooched.
ME:Have you been drinking again this morning, Lavanya Patil? No more than half a bottle for you next time!
Lovey:
ME:We must’ve air-kissed!Get serious!What were you doing when we were smooching? Standing and watching? Weren’t you and I together the whole evening?
Lovey:There’s an image in my head of the two of you full-on kissing!You think I dreamt it?
ME:Obviously!
My hands tremble as I slip my phone into my tote.
I kissed Vedveer? I?
My fingers are on my lips; they feel fuller this morning. My heart is racing, and the room is turning. It cannot be true. Lavanya’s fertile imagination has conjured this scene.
I look at my watch; there are a few minutes to go for the half-hour. I dig out my phone, hit on Instagram and start scrolling.
I don’t have to scroll far; there it is. A photo of Vedveer and I.
Our hands are linked. Just like yesterday, during that impromptu photo session at home. Only, this time, I’m leaning into him, wearing ripped jeans and a bustier, with my wrap carelessly thrown on top. I’m smiling.Smiling.
Vedveer stands still, face unreadable.
Lavanya’s in the frame, too, but she’s cropped badly.
My heart takes off. Not racing, bolting.
What is this? How did this happen?
