Page 98 of The Ruin I Chose

Thank heavens the ride to the RORO terminal was only thirty minutes. After parking in the RORO, we stepped out.

I chose to stay on the deck instead of sitting in the cabin. The wind hit me first sharp. I wrapped my arms around myself, regretting the shorts and boho top I’d chosen. My hair was braided into a loose plait, and the hickey he’d left on my neck was hidden beneath the fabric. The cold bit my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat his presence sparked behind me.

I heard his footsteps before I felt him. Marcello came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I didn’t resist. Instead, I let myself sink into him just for a moment. His warmth was overwhelming—like memory and temptation wrapped in one dangerous skin.

“Regretting the shorts? Let’s go in before you catch a cold,” he teased.

I shook my head, almost embarrassed. “I get a little seasick. The wind in my face makes it bearable.”

He kissed the top of my head. I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around his. We stood there in silence, facing the sea, the morning sun casting gold across the water.

I hated how safe I felt in his arms. Safety was dangerous. Safety made me forget why I was supposed to be angry.

The drive to Alibaug was uneventful, but my thoughts weren’t. I kept replaying last night—his hands, his voice, the way my body betrayed me. I hated him for it. I hated myself more. As much as I wanted to push him away, make him grovel for forgiveness, my body reacted faster than my pride could recover.

It felt like my brain and body didn’t belong to the same person—they kept contradicting each other around him.

We reached Casa Amara, a sprawling resort owned by Priya’s father. It didn’t flaunt its luxury it whispered it, like a secret only the rich knew how to keep. Mangalore tiled roofs, teakwood accents, whispering palms, and the hush of the Konkan coast. Perfect place to lose myself. Terrible place to find him again.

The main wedding was to happen in a stepwell-style courtyard—something straight out of the movies. The garden was drenched in sunlight and marigolds—like a Pinterest mood board come to life. Two large brass urns with stools took centre stage beneath a canopy of vibrant fabrics, fluttering in the breeze. The backdrop was covered in blooms. Haldi bowls, set with betel leaves, gleamed with golden paste like molten turmeric.

Aunties in bright saris bustled around, laughing, gossiping, pairing off youngsters and asking the age-old question—

“So, are you next?”

Sahil spotted me and waved.

“Roxy, Marcello! You two are finally here!”

I smiled and walked over, embracing him in a warm hug.

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” I said, beaming. “I’ll change and be right back.”

Before I could turn, Kyra came running towards me. Her yellow dress fluttered in the wind as her two pigtails bounced with each step. I scooped her up, twirled her around, and showered her with kisses. Marcello watched us, awe written all over his face.

“You’re spoiling her,” Vihaan teased.

“I’m only spoiling her with love, hugs, and kisses.”

“Mummy, I love your hugs and kisses!”

“Me too, my baccha. I’ll change and come back. Find granny for me till then.”

Vihaan helped us settle into our rooms. Marcello and I had adjoining suites, separated by a common door, each with its own entrance. Like temptation built into the architecture.

Seriously, whose brilliant idea was it to put two people who want to tear each other’s clothes off and fuck each other senseless—in every corner, every position—in adjacent rooms, separated by a flimsy door? Like that’s going to stop us.

Jeez, control your filthy mind, Roxanne.

Marcello was grinning—like he’d heard my thoughts loud and clear.

“Where’s your room?” I asked, curious.

“Opposite his,” Vihaan replied, gesturing to Marcello. “Be quick, the ceremony’s about to start.”

I retreated to mine. The room had vaulted ceilings, soft linens and a balcony that opened to birdsong and breeze.

I quickly changed, then heard a knock—not at the front door, but at the interconnecting one.