Page 26 of The Promise of a Traitor

“You don’t like Binita?” Maya asked now, a new note of caution in her voice.

Advik yanked his mind back from the past, frowning as he thought of how to answer that. “There is something about her, about their family dynamics…It doesn’t gel.”

“Not all families are seamless units,” Maya said gently, “We’re probably the exception.”

Yash laughed, a loud chortle. “From which angle have we looked seamless to you, Maya Papaya?”

Maya threw a pillow at him that he caught before blowing her a laughing kiss. “Shut up. We are absolutely, one hundred percent, seamless. Tell him, Adi.”

But Advik was laughing too hard for that. It was only when his mother threatened to pour the juice over his head, that he grinned and agreed that they were a model family.

It wasn’t until much later, when he was getting ready to head into the office, that he realised what had been bothering him about the previous night.

No one at Aastha’s home had laughed. For that matter, unless it was directed at him, no one had even smiled.

Not once.

Chapter Sixteen

Aastha

Aastha wound a towel around her body as she left the shower to get ready for the day. Her eyes felt raw and gritty, sandpaper dry from all the tears she hadn’t shed. The ones she’d held back for years now.

She brushed her wet hair out, wincing as the bristles snagged on tangles. When she finally got the thick mass to lie flat and straight, she moved to dress, pulling on one of her comfort dresses, loose and soft. She needed comfort today.

She grabbed her large tote bag, wincing as the fraying strap stretched a little further. It was going to snap any day now. She took one last look at her still sleeping sister and then forced herself to leave. She sighed as she stepped out of the room and into the corridor that led to the drawing room.

“You’re tired, already?” Binita’s cutting voice had her shoulders stiffening. “Or is that the weight of your conscience weighing you down?”

Aastha glanced over to where her mother had emerged from her own bedroom, her kaftan sweeping the floor behind her as she walked past Aastha.

“Certainly isn’t a problem that you have to deal with,” Aastha muttered, ignoring the dark look her mother shot her. She walked into the hall where her father was saying his morning prayers. Aastha’s gaze followed the flame as it rotated in front of the temple area. Another sigh escaped her which was followed by another dark look from her mother.

“Amu isn’t having a great day,” she said, heading to the kitchen for her morning cup of chamomile tea. “Please let her miss school today.”

Nobody replied to her although her father’s temple bell rang a little louder. She reached for the container of tea bags and pulled the lid off only to find it empty. For a moment, she wanted to scream but she swallowed the visceral impulse and sighed, instead, for the third time.

It wasn’t even like anybody else in this house drank chamomile tea so how did the container keep emptying itself? Whatever…she’d just get herself something at work.

She put her mug back on the rack and went back into the living room. Her father was chanting now. Her mother had her noise cancelling headphones on and was watching something on her phone.

“I’m leaving,” she announced, hoisting up the bag again. She didn’t bother waiting for a response. She knew neither parent would bother with one. Which is why she almost had a heart attack when she heard her father call out, “Wait!”

Aastha froze, turning slightly to face the living room again. Her father walked over, one hand protectively cupped over the flickering flame on the aarti plate. He held it out to her, wordlessly. She cupped her own hands to take the blessings he offered and then bent at the waist to touch his feet. His fingers brushed over her head, briefly pressing and then the contact was gone.

Aastha straightened, blinking back tears at the unexpected interaction with her father. She’d lost him a long time ago. Seven years ago. When she’d come back from New York and ruined him.

She avoided her mother’s knowing gaze and turned towards the door, blindly making her way outside the flat that felt like a shrine to her many failures. She knew what had changed, why her father had changed his stance of hating her forever. She knew exactly what had happened.

Advik had agreed to marry her.

She stepped out of the shadowed foyer and into the blinding sunshine, blinking slightly as her eyes adjusted to the light. And for a moment, she thought she was hallucinating. Or maybe she’d manifested him.

Advik straightened from where he was leaning against his car. He took off his sunglasses and those dark, intense eyes of his bored into her, making her already confused emotions spiral even further.

“Hi,” he said, simply.

“What are you doing here?” She stared at him, wondering if she should pinch herself to see if he was real. Or maybe, just pinch him.