Lease. The word stays in my mouth like a hard-boiled sweet.
‘Why were they looking to lease?’
Appa explains that Vedveer is determined to convert their land into organic fields. That project requires heavy-duty financing, given how vast their holdings are. By leasing a section of Ranibagh, he could get on with the project without having to worry about the state of their finances.
I’m a businesswoman; I know what collateral is.
As I stretch my neck, I begin to see the situation for what it is. They want to lease a section of their palace, and we offered. It all came together with Gaurav Singh Rathore’s blessings. But why is Vedveer pointing accusatory fingers? My eyes are now on Appa, when it finally dawns on me.
‘I believe you,’ I say after a while, summoning a vacant smile. ‘I only wish you trusted me with the details. I deserve to know, especially because it’s my life that we are talking about.’
‘How did you know about the lease?’
‘I read it somewhere. Maybe on the net,’ I lie.
Appa nods. He isn’t convinced.
‘I want out of this engagement, Appa. I wanted no part in this from the beginning itself, but because of you, I went through with it. I cannot do this any more. Please be fair to me.’
Appa settles back in his seat and turns away from me.
I’m on my feet, carrying a sinking feeling in my heart. I should have been happy that Vedveer and I are over, but something stings at the back of my eyes.
19.
Aaditha
Done Here!
I told Appa I wanted out of the engagement, making my intentions clear, maybe even before Vedveer’s jet hit Bengaluru’s runway.
I stopped wearing the ring after that. No one noticed.
But I didn’t follow through with my parents, not in the way they would’ve expected. I didn’t storm into rooms, issue ultimatums or draw dramatic lines in the sand. In a family like mine, where we wait for storms to pass rather than confront them, it would’ve taken exactly that kind of force for anyone to believe I truly meant it.
From what I can tell, Vedveer hasn’t moved either. Not really.
If he’d followed through on that cutting‘we are done here’,I’d have felt the aftershocks. I’d have known.
A month later, I decide to act on it. I start with a call to Alia.
I’m not telling her about how the prince came calling; I’m not ready to go there yet. Weeks have gone by, and it still feels raw.
‘I don’t think this engagement is working for me, Akka,’ I say, two sentences into the conversation.
We are on a video call. She’s doing her make-up, getting ready for work, while I’m lounging in my bed at the end of a workday.
‘What do you mean, not working?’ she asks, her mascarasmudging her eyes.
I shrug. ‘We are not really in touch, haven’t been in a while… That’s not exactly newly engaged couple vibes, right?’
‘What is a while?’
‘A month.’
‘So message. Ask him what’s up.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t want to ask. I mean, why should I be the one who asks?’