Her stomach twisted violently as she remembered the way Daksh had pulled away from her, handing her over to Kabir.
“Oh my God,” she whispered before she threw herself from the bed and ran to the bathroom, desperately clutching the towel to her.
CHAPTER 32
DAKSH
Could we meet?
The three words had destroyed any hope he’d had of catching a flight out of India. He’d been hoping to be halfway to Australia by now, snorkelling by the Great Barrier Reef. But the Universe was conspiring against him.
First, the confrontation with his father and brother had left him feeling raw and on edge. His father’s outrageous ask had left him fuming. He’d stormed out of there and to his room and thrown his stuff together, intending to leave immediately.
Unfortunately, the first possible option had been later that evening. And then, her text had arrived.
It had been the brakes to his plans that nobody else could have applied. What was this pull he felt towards her? Why her? Anybody else, literally anybody else on this planet, would have been a better choice than her. A less complicated one.
Ending up with Vedika Thakkar would delight his father. And Daksh really hated delighting that fucker.
He sat, awkwardly, in the middle of a comfortable yet luxurious formal sitting room in Thakkar Mansion. A helper who looked like an old school British butler had led him here and left him to stew in his silent awkwardness for a while now. He should have told Vedika he’d meet her outside this palace but he hadn’t wanted to make her wander the city with a hangover. Fuck him. He should leave!
The door to the sitting room opened and Vedika entered. The hair, the edgy, shorter crop she’d gone for was still a shock. She’d brushed it back from her face and clipped the sides to keep it from falling in her eyes. It looked good on her, he thought. It just didn’t look like Vedika.
“Hello Mouse,” he said softly, getting to his feet.
She flinched, her eyes, ringed with dark circles, darting away from him. She was twisting her fingers together, almost painfully. Daksh walked over to where she stood and grabbed them, forcing her to stop hurting herself. Would this woman ever stop torturing herself for existing?
She stared down at their twined hands like she was seeing a ghost. Vedika wrenched her hands away from him and backed away. Daksh frowned at the extreme reaction but didn’t pursue it.
“How are you feeling today?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” Her gaze sharpened as she saw his haversack resting against one of the chairs. “You’re leaving,” she said, her voice falling, rife with disappointment.
“I am checking into a hotel for a bit,” he told her, making a mental note to cancel his tickets. He didn’t have it in him to beresponsible for that look in her eyes. So, it looked like he’d be hanging around for a little longer.
Dammit. This wasn’t healthy.
Her eyes, shadowed with pain, met his. “Problems at home?” she asked.
Daksh shrugged.
“Because of me?”
He exhaled, looking over her head to the shut door, hoping someone would walk through it and interrupt this awkward as fuck conversation.
When no one burst through like a saving grace, he had no choice but to answer, “No, of course not.”
“Of course not,” she whispered softly. “Why would it be because of me?”
“How long do you plan to keep this up?” he asked lightly.
“Keep what up?”
“This,” he gestured vaguely at her, his mouth twisting with angry amusement. “The tragic heroine act. Nobody understands me. Nobody loves me. Poor, broken Vedika.”
Her head snapped up. Fire flared instantly. Good. He’d take her anger over that hollow, lifeless expression any day.
“I amnotdoing that.”
