He was being dismissed. The peasant to her princess. But that wasn’t what bothered him…
“I’m not your big brother.” The words felt like a knife to the heart, one he’d gladly take. It was far better than the alternative.
“I know,” she said quietly, keeping her back to him, not meeting his gaze. But he saw her shoulders slump as she whispered, “Believe me, I know.”
His heart ached at her visible sadness. If he could make it go away, he would. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever.
“Are you going to marry him, Tani?”
She turned to face him then.
“Give me a reason not to, Kabir.” Her eyes said more than her words did.
But he couldn’t.
“Do you love him, Tani?”
“You know who I love.”
She stared at him, her eyes staring into his wretched, tortured soul. He wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees before her, offering her his shredded, battered heart. The heart that only ever beat for her.
But he didn’t. He stayed in his corner of the room, his silence screaming into the small space.
Tanisha smiled sadly. “Then I guess I am going to marry him.”
CHAPTER 1
KABIR
SIX MONTHS LATER
He sat in the dark,back propped up against his headboard, a half full bottle of tequila on his bedside table. Head tilted back, he strummed the guitar on his lap, a strangely discordant yet beautiful sound echoing through the silent room. Beside him, face down on the mattress was his phone. It kept lighting up at regular intervals, the glare leaking out from the sides the only illumination in the room.
He reached for the cigarette smouldering in an ashtray beside the bed and took a long drag. He exhaled a plume of smoke just as the phone went dark. He stubbed the cigarette butt out and tossed the guitar aside, grabbing the tequila bottle and moving from the bed to the large glass windows that framed one entire wall. The skyline of New York sprawled as far as his eye could see, the large, green space of Central Park a darker blotch in the middle.
His phone started to flash again. He tensed, his skin feeling too tight for his body, fingers clenching around the neck of the tequila bottle. Despite the air conditioner running full throttle, he could feel sweat break out on his brow. He brought the bottleto his lips, taking a swig and letting the fiery liquid burn its way down his throat.
A soft knock sounded on his door.
“Fuck off!” he growled, not bothering to turn around.
The door creaked open. “Kabir?” Rahul’s hesitant voice reached him.
“Did you not hear me telling you to fuck off?” Kabir’s voice was deceptively calm, as he stared out into the dark, star speckled night, a million skyscrapers illuminating the world he felt so removed from. Far below, roads wound through the concrete jungle, cars weaving their way through them, looking like a toy race track in Lego land.
“But Kabir-“
“Rahul,” Kabir said politely, his voice venomous silk. “Do not finish that sentence.”
Silence fell between them for a long moment. On the road below, a taxi rearended another car and both drivers got down to fight. Kabir watched them with detached interest. To his extreme disappointment, neither of them threw a punch.
He raised the bottle of tequila to his lips and drained it. He brought the empty bottle to eye level and frowned. What the fuck? How did that finish so quickly?
“Your parents want to know when you’re coming home.” Rahul’s words came out in a rush, like he feared he’d lose the courage to spew them out.
“I SAID FUCK OFF!” His roar of fury was a tidal wave that smashed against the very edges of his sanity.
Kabir spun on his heel, the bottle flying from his hand and crashing into the wall across the room from them. Glass shattered, splinters flying in every direction, a spray of violence.
