With some luck, you can get out of here unnoticed,I try to tell myself. Maybe crawl out on all fours.
I’m back on the snack carousel, going harder and harder at the nuts. The replaced bowl of chips is almost over. I’m not thinking; I’m reacting. My breath is hard; it feels like a storm.
Toddy places another slightly bigger bowl of nuts before me and nods at my half-finished sangria when I ask him for a refill.
I want to disappear from here now, right at this very moment. I reach for my phone.
The Pour Homme EDP envelops me. I take in air and try to hold it within.
Why am I so jittery around this man?
The marriage announcement.
That juvenile Pros & Cons list.
The latest WhatsApp exchange was meant to settle my nerves. All it did was tighten the noose.
Toddy picks up a glass to stir; his eyes meet mine. Maybe he recognizes me.
‘Aaditha.’ A voice I know from behind me.
I turn to face Vedveer. He’s in a pale shirt that sparks his eyes.
I swallow the barely crushed nuts in my mouth. I wonder if the salt is all over my painstakingly done make-up, standing out like some debased glow cream.
I shift, trying to get on my feet. Vedveer gives me a hand, and we’re both on our feet.
‘Congratulations!’ he says, drawing me closer and placing a kiss on my cheek. ‘Well done! It’s a big one!’
I stare at him in disbelief. Why hadn’t he come if he had known I was getting an award?
If Vedveer were the one getting this award and I happened to be in Delhi, I’d absolutely show up and cheer for him. It’sa prestigious plaque, he said so himself. The only reason my parents aren’t here is because Appa felt his presence might steal the spotlight from me.
‘Navya tells me you won “The Initiator” award,’ he says, answering the question my eyes echo.
‘I just got into Delhi, like an hour ago,’ he says, his lips slanting in a smile.
We were WhatsApping an hour ago. He doesn’t mention it deliberately. We are in a public space.
‘I ran into Navya on the way here, and she told me about The Initiator award. Sorry! I’ve not been up with the news. I wish you had told me.’
Vedveer’s eyes are warm, but everything else about him is buttoned up and closed off. The business suit isn’t just a look; it’s the mood. Not that it should matter to me, given that we know where we stand with each other now.
‘I should have,’ I say sweetly, ‘but I didn’t know you’d be in Delhi, and I didn’t want to trouble you.’
I feel the room close around us, and I turn to see everyone on their feet, thumping their hands together.
I step back and lean against the bar, and my right hand reaches for my still half-finished glass of sangria. I’m breathing hard, and Vedveer’s eyes are on the hollow of my neck.
‘I would’ve called and congratulated you if I’d known you were still in Delhi,’ he’s saying, closing the gap between us. ‘I thought you’d be travelling back home. I was planning on calling you in the morning.’
My shrug is nonchalant, but my face breaks into a smile.
A little behind Vedveer, the folks who were seated at the table closest to the bar are now standing. Among them is a tall, impeccably styled woman, whom I now recognize from photographs as Kairi Gaur. Are they still seeing each other? My grip around the glass of wine tightens.
One of Vedveer’s friends brings his hands together in a loud clap. ‘I have a suggestion that His Royal Highness make a speech on account of his fiancée’s victory today,’ he says.
His fiancée? We’re not engaged, dude, not yet! Victory? I hadn’t won a war… though it felt like one. I retreat and allow myself a smile. It matches Kairi’s in sweetness.
