by MV Kasi
"Sure. Why not? I've been waiting for you to arrive this early in the morning, so I could cater to your demands." He handed her a sleek white phone from his pocket. "Here. You can make international calls on this. Meantime, let me get your key."
She took the phone gingerly from his hand. It was so white and shiny, it looked like it might get dirty even with gloves on.
Her first call was a very brief one, simply informing the person on the other end of her arrival. The next call was to her brother, to let him know she'd reached India safely.
Apart from a disinterested acknowledgement, her brother didn't have anything else to ask. Her mother and father were too busy to talk to her as usual. "Give Paddu and Nikhil my love. Let them know I've asked for them," she said softly before hanging up.
Samrat was already waiting with the spare key in his hand, looking impatient and restless, as though he couldn't wait for her to take it and get the hell out from his house.
CHAPTER 3
Mahi stared at Samrat's stony face for a few seconds.
Even if she wasn't welcome anymore and her brain was shutting down with exhaustion, she wanted to try and apologize one more time before she came up with a decent lengthy apology.
"Look Samrat, I know what I did was inexcusable. I was young and stupid then. You must know how it is...to be young and stupid."
He folded his arms together looking all the more formidable. "I don't."
She let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Oh come on. Even you must have done some stupid things in your late teens or early twenties. I know I did plenty."
He scoffed. "I think everyone knows and remembers what you did." Then looking thoughtful, he wrinkled his elegant nose as though something disgusted him. "Just the late teens and twenties? From what we have heard, even your late twenties and early thirties continued to have the so called young and stupid moments. An extramarital affair leading to a divorce? How very...modern of you."
She was slowly getting irritated with him. "I didn't know thirty five year old men in India are part of the gossip network. Wow, India must have really changed during these past fourteen years."
She hated how judgmental people could be and maybe it was not the time to apologize when he wasn't in a receptive mood. "Anyway, can I have that key now?" she asked impatiently.
Samrat rested his body on the back of a couch as though preparing to have a long drawn out discussion. "We Indian men try to keep up with the gossip news as well, especially when it comes to someone who almost destroyed our lives."
She sighed. "I'm glad the men here are well informed now, but I really have to leave. So if you don't mind..."
She extended her hand.
He ignored it.
"So...Tell me, were you too bored with your much older, rich and pedigreed husband that you soon developed a wandering eye for younger men?"
Mahi narrowed her eyes and snapped out, "Yeah, I have a bad reputation. But guess what? It took me years of very dedicated effort to get there. And looks like you turned into a judgmental gossipy old lady in all these years. I somehow imagined you'd be an arrogant absent minded genius who became a self-made millionaire or billionaire...or whatever it is you are worth now. Since when do you engage in such common gossip?"
When he didn't respond, she sighed wearily. "Look, obviously you have better things to do, and I really need to get going as well. I know you want me to repent and suffer. I already do, believe me...and I've already told you that I'm really sorry. I'm not sure what else you want me to do."
Samrat dropped his hands to the sides and stood up straight with a grim expression. "What do you think I could ever want from someone like you?"
She ignored his obvious insult and frowned. "I don't know...Maybe some sort of revenge? I know you think you deserve one and I agree. But seriously, I'm really, really tired and I'm about to fall down at your feet with exhaustion. Can I please have that key?"
He didn't move or respond again, and she had exhausted all her energy to think of other ways to get that key from him. Short of throwing a serious hissy fit and tackling him to the floor to drag the key from his hands, she knew there was nothing she could do.
Making one last attempt, she went closer to him with a friendly smile pasted on her face. She had to crane her neck up as he was towering on top of her. Even with her four inch platform heels, her eyes were at his throat level.
"Oh come on Samrat. You are a successful gazillionare whose face is splashed all over Forbes and other oh-so-great magazines, while I ended up being just a measly divorcee with a bad reputation like you just said. See how Karma got back at me? You already got your revenge. Can I have my key now?" she asked him sweetly with an outstretched hand
He scoffed. "You think that compensates for what you did to me personally?"
Sick and tired of their cat and mouse game, she snapped out, "Do what you want later, but stop throwing a freaking tantrum and give me the damned spare key!"
She had barely finished saying the word key, when he grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her against him. Emitting an "Oof" when she hit his chest, she looked up at him in surprise.
He was glaring down at her with a quiet menace.
She froze.
Her heart was speeding up in response to a sick irrational fear, but she refused to show any reaction or fight him off. She also couldn't get her eyes away from him. Especially at his jaw, which was clenched and she could also feel his fingers digging into her upper arms. A few seconds or maybe a few minutes passed by and their staring seemed to go on and on. She could hear a dog barking from somewhere and the milkman announcing a delivery from outside the house.
One of her hands was on his chest for balance and to also push him away in defense if needed. She could feel his heart beat erratically under her hand, either fighting for control or building up rage.
She could have screamed, or kneed him in his delicate area to put an end to the current display, but she stayed still.
He was staring at her lips. "You accused me of forcibly grabbing you and kissing you. It was on a balcony at Chandra's house during a party in our final year. Do you remember that?" he asked tonelessly, before looking into her eyes, "You were almost drunk at that time, but I'm sure you were aware of the lie."
"I-I remember it...and I was aware that I lied," she stuttered, recalling the incident clearly.
She knew his grabbing her would slowly have a terrifying effect on her and she would embarass herself. But luckily before anything happened, her instincts kicked in.
She refused to be cowed. "Go ahead then. Kiss me, if it makes you feel avenged. I know I will feel relieved. One mistake among hundreds washed away." Then mustering some more courage, she slowly and deliberately grinned at him. "I wish I could simply kiss away my other mistakes as well. But then...I'll probably have to hunt the people I hurt, and kiss them all. And your sister in particular will definitely not be so receptive to my kisses."
*****
Samrat continued to stare at her stonily with narrowed eyes.
The woman in front of him was really something.
He remembered how she used to have a huge ego. She used to think that everyone wanted her.
He didn't.
In fact he had no idea why he would grab her like a villain from a bad movie. But when she looked so impatient and brushed off what she did to him as something insignificant, he simply lost it.
He definitely didn't think that her hurried apology from before would ever begin to compensate the trauma he had gone through, when she accused him of cheating during their finals. And she was behaving as though he was the one being extremely unreasonable and immature by not letting their past go. The humiliation and the loss, not just for him, but for his entire family had affected him through the years. Then there was also the matter of other false allegations she threw at him...
He had felt like an idiot indulging or even listening to the gossip about her past, and then repeating it to her. But he really neede
d to let her know that everyone was aware of her circumstances and also that whatever malicious games she might have planned would be ineffective due to her reputation.
Mahi smiled flirtatiously. "While I'm really looking forward to compensate my mistakes with kisses, can we take a rain check? Maybe we can get back to this some other time when I'm a little more groomed and not about to collapse in exhaustion."
At that smile, he let her go immediately and moved a few steps away like she had a contagious disease.
She followed after him and pulled out the key from his fingers, while he stood in shock and disgust.
"Later. Nice...uh...catching up with you, Samrat," she said, waving at him cheerfully, before turning to leave.
The door closed behind her and she was gone.
Leaving him dumbfounded.
What the hell just happened? Did I just really grab a woman?
He felt off balance, as he always did when he saw her or was around her.
It was something that he hadn't ever acknowledged to himself, because he refused to waste even a second thinking about her back then. But now, he knew what it was.
He was attracted to her.
He realized that fact in horror and disgust. And at nearly thirty five, Mahi still had that raw charisma about her that the travel worn clothes and a tired face could not hide.
He cursed viciously, even though he didn’t usually swear. Not because he thought it was bad, but because he didn’t allow his emotions to get to the point where using bad words was necessary.
This is going to be a complete disaster.
CHAPTER 4
Mahi walked away from Samrat's house in a daze. Her mind was blank and she was beyond tired. What she needed was a nice hot bath and a long nap.
She got into her house and dragged her bags along. It wasn’t even seven in the morning, but the heat was slowly setting in. She had forgotten how hot it got in Hyderabad even during mid-February.
Grabbing a fresh towel and some toiletries from one of her bags, she headed towards the bathroom. She stepped into the shower and let the cool water wash away part of her fatigue.
As she stood there, her mind wandered.
Even though she promised herself not to think about the past, the images of the night when she had accused Samrat of kissing her rushed through her mind.
Fourteen years ago
It was their final year in college and most of them had been drinking or playing cards to celebrate their friendship. The finals were only a couple of months away and they wanted to let down their hair before scrambling with finals, visas or jobs. Around twenty people were crammed inside Chandra Kumar's apartment while his parents were away for the weekend.
She was sitting in her boyfriend Sidhu's lap and playing poker with six other couples.
She had been recklessly betting and losing money, while Sidhu was smiling and indulging her by pulling out the currency notes from his wallet.
"Mahi, I think we have lost a thousand already. I don't think I have any more money left in my wallet."
"Ohh come on Sidhu. Borrow then. We can't lose... you know I hate losing." She pouted at him.
Sidhu kissed her softly on her cheek. "Okay, maybe we can join back in the next round. Let's get you some fresh air, since you are slurring a little. I have to drop you home in couple of hours and I need you to be completely sober by then."
A delicious tasting mango based cocktail was giving her a light buzz. She was used to having alcoholic drinks, but the fact that she sipped it too fast got the alcohol into her head right away.
Sidhu wasn't drunk, since he was both a vegetarian and a non-alcoholic. But he had never insisted that she adapt to his lifestyle and she loved him even more because of it.
He held her around her waist and hugged her close as they walked towards a balcony. Even though they kept their other heavy make-out sessions private, Sidhu had always shown his affection publicly, by kissing her cheek or laying his hands across her shoulders or waist, making her feel loved and cherished. He was one of the best things that had happened in her life.
Before they could reach the balcony for some fresh air, someone stopped Sidhu for information on the visa documentation.
"That's okay Sidhu. You go ahead and talk. I'll be near the balcony," she said.
When she got there, she realized that someone was already occupying it.
It was Samrat.
He was staring at some distant buildings, lost in his own thoughts when she stood next to him, breathing in some fresh cool air.
He turned to look at her for a couple of seconds, before turning back to stare at the buildings some more.
"I saw that," she said, slurring slightly.
"What?" he asked, sounding uninterested.
She scoffed. "That judging look you just gave me. You already think I'm pretty bad with lots of character flaws, and now you want to add 'is a drunkard' to the list."
"Your words not mine. And believe me, I don't spend any of my time thinking about your character flaws, or adding your habits to an imaginary list," he replied, still looking away from her.
That annoyed her.
She recalled how he had always ignored her at their college and near their houses. He behaved as though she was invisible. And she didn't take kindly to anyone being indifferent to her or ignoring her.
Huffing, she turned away and tried to ignore him.
"You know...you should thank god that I even acknowledge your existence or even talk to you, you nerd," she muttered.
"Hmm. I'm going to write a thank you note to god very soon," he replied nonchalantly.
She turned her head towards him with narrowed eyes, and then felt...confused. She had always felt that way around him. Samrat was nowhere as good looking or even as charming as Sidhu. In fact Samrat looked dangerous with his eyebrow scar, a default scowl and his rugged face. A sane girl would never find him cuddly or have soft romantic feelings looking at him.
But she felt something, some sort of weird unwanted attraction. Maybe it was the sarcastic way he always spoke to her or the chilling calm when he warned her about teasing his sister in the college. Or maybe it was simply the fact that he didn't fawn over her like others usually did.
Irritated, she watched his profile, "Why are you even here?" she demanded. "You have never come to any of the parties before."
He was quiet for a few seconds and she thought he wouldn't answer, but then he finally did.
"I'm the designated driver for someone."
She scoffed rudely. "Well... aren't you the ever helpful nice little boy! I know you would rather spend a Saturday night stuck in your room, building some nonsense with your cardboard boxes and a broken radio or something. Everyone in the neighborhood thinks that you look like a fool, trying to fly those things on your terrace using your remote control."
Actually everyone in the neighborhood including her was fascinated by those flying things, but the already arrogant Samrat didn't have to know that.
Samrat turned to look at her. "I didn't know you were so interested in my work or that you spied on me. Maybe I should keep my curtains closed from now on," he told her with a slight smirk on his usually serious face.
That damn smirk hurt her pride, and she was more than a little annoyed. "Ohh puhleez. I should be the one worrying. I'm sure you have tried to look into my room with that shanty telescope you have on your balcony. Well...I hope you enjoyed the view, because that's the most excitement you'll probably get until you are married. No. Wait. Actually, even then, knowing your type—which is a boring repressed prig by the way—you'll pick someone wa-a-y-y younger than you, a nice pretty little innocent, and have a five minute fumbling that will result in a child within the first nine months. And then, the both of you will continue to live a virtuous life while you invent your nonsense," she said, making air quotes for invent.
At her rant, he cocked his head in amusement, rather than anger. "That's quite a speech. For someone who is supposed to be in a
loving relationship with her boyfriend, you seem to have thought a lot about my future wife, my sex life and even my child. That's concerning."
His nonchalance challenged her and drove her mad. She had always wondered why he couldn't fall for her, just a little bit.
Maybe it was time to bring out the big guns, and see his facade crack a little. She knew that no one was immune to her charms for too long.
Slowly moving closer, and leaving only a few inches between them, she smiled at him. "Actually...yes. You should be concerned, especially because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You are all I think of these days," she said huskily.
He looked amused at her display. "That is very concerning...but not for me, just for Sidhu. I thought both of you are getting married in a few years."
She shrugged. "Who knows what will happen in a few years." And then, she changed her smile, making it more sultry and seductive. "But aren't you curious about the thoughts I have of you...Samrat?"
He watched her quietly for a few seconds. To her satisfaction, she could see the amusement vanishing rapidly from his face.
“What do you want Mahi?” he asked with a deliberate slowness.
His voice caused every fine hair on her neck to rise in awareness. Low, gravelly, it sounded as if he was growling.
“What do I want?” she repeated, forcing out a laugh and feeling out of sorts. “You are pretty direct. But that's what I like about you.”
Rising to the challenge of wanting to unnerve him in return, she slowly raised her hand, and ran a finger across his thin eyebrow scar, and was about to trail it lower to his square jaw. But he caught her hand and jerked it away from his face.
"Don't embarrass yourself Mahi. Let it go. Drop your pretense. You can't get me to be interested in you...now or ever. I would never be interested in someone like you. Get it?"
Shallow, arrogant, bad influence and many more such descriptions that followed behind her over the years rang in her head.
But she focused only on his rejection and her hurt pride. Directly her fury towards him, "You arrogant idiot,” she hissed. “Do you really think you can talk to me like that?”