I am too stunned to speak.
A shattering sound breaks the silence. I couldn't really tell if the sound came from the champagne flute that slipped from Akash's hand or of my heart breaking into a million pieces.
"Whaaaat?" a female guest, a 'Real Housewives' type of character, standing close by in all probability to eavesdrop, shrieked when she overheard Zenia.
"Viks is that true?" Akash doesn't seem very happy to hear the news; in fact, he looks visibly upset.
"Guys, here's some great news!!! Vicky and Zenia are planning to get married," the nosy lady announces loudly to the crowd.
A noisy round of cheers ensues. Everyone moves forward to congratulate the couple.
"Are you crazy?" Akash growls to Jeet.
"Relax Ash, why are you getting so worked up?" Jeet snaps back at his brother.
Zenia steps in between the brothers but stumbles on her heels, the contents flying out of her glass and landing on me.
Jeet seems to realise my presence then, his face changing from an angry snarl to concern and then guilt.
"Oh shoot! I am so sorry, it's all my fault," Zenia dabs some tissues at the soaked dress. The liquid has dripped down, staining the entire front part of my outfit.
I force a smile on my face, "It's fine, I was planning to leave anyway." I hug Zenia, "Congratulations on the wonderful news. I am so happy for you," I tell her, without looking at Jeet. I politely refuse her request to come back after changing, citing work before walking away stiffly.
I barely make it to my door, before the flood of tears unleash.
Stupid, silly Tarana!! What were you thinking? That Jeet would actually fall in love with you?
Of course! How did I not see the signs? It was always him and Zenia. No wonder he did not want anyone to know about our arrangement.
When he was talking about marriage at the restaurant, I fooled myself into thinking that maybe he was talking about us, but he was actually referring to Zenia and himself. Yet I threw myself at him, knowing full well that he never admitted to feeling anything but friendship. I mistook his pity for me, to be something else.
I am disgusted at myself for being so naive and clueless.
Until now, I never knew that heartbreak could physically hurt. The sick feeling like being punched in the gut. The acute constriction in my chest, allowing me to only take short, shallow breaths was all painfully real.
The loud music and sounds of laughter upstairs, exacerbates my woe. It feels like the people are laughing at me. Images of Jeet and Zenia mocking me and my silly fantasies, keeps playing in my head, getting me even more agitated.
I am unable to sleep, no matter how hard I try. The sounds of the party from upstairs finally faded at dawn. By then I have given up trying to sleep, throwing the blanket away and heading for a long, hot shower.
I look at myself in the foggy mirror. My eyes are puffy and swollen from the lack of sleep and crying. Taking a deep breath, I set my jaw in firm resolve. I am not going to keep pining over a man. I had strayed off my goal for a while, lost in a fantasy of make believe romance, forgetting that life is not all peaches and cream. But not anymore!
By eight a.m. I am standing outside Purvi's door with a night bag in hand. I cannot stay at my house, till I can clear my head and really refocus. Oliver has gone to Italy to visit his family, so Purvi was more than happy to let me stay at her place for a few days, when I called this morning with the excuse of building renovations disturbing me.
"Hey! did you know there is a rumour circulating that Vicky is getting married?" she asks me at dinner that night.
"You don't say," I somehow manage to reply with a straight face.
"Well apparently he has a childhood sweetheart. She is a social media star," Purvi pauses, struck by an idea, "maybe we can meet her and see if she would be interested in working with us." Purvi continues talking, while I nod, giving a tight-lipped smile.
"Anyways," she lets out a long sigh, "another eligible bachelor is going off the market. But they do make a good looking pair, don't you think?" Purvi brings her phone to my face showing a photoshopped image of Jeet and Zenia on one of Zenia's fan page on Instagram. I do a double take when I realise that Zenia's picture has been pasted over my photo taken during the flower giving ceremony at the launch.
I scoff at the irony, "Yes, they do make a good pair," I give a lackadaisical reply, before getting up from the table. I have suddenly lost my appetite.
Since morning, Jeet has been sending messages inquiring where I was, but I ignored them all. At night he called me. Not wanting Purvi to get suspicious or see the number, I answered it.
"Where on earth are you? You are not home, and you were not replying to my messages. I was getting worried," he sounded frantic.
"There's no need for you to be worried. I am spending a few days with a friend," I reply curtly, not allowing his haunting voice to unnerve me.
"So, you are fine?"
"Yes."
"Listen, we need to talk, but not over the phone. Just call me when you reach home, OK?"
"OK," I reply curtly, cutting off the call before he could say anything further.
The next few days of mine are chock-a-block with client meetings, discussing branding strategies, social media campaign development and media management. In between meetings, I go on a desperate hunt for a suitable house. Three days of relentless searching led to nothing. The only house I came close to finalising, which was affordable and rented to single women, was located in a remote township in the far-flung suburbs. I informed the estate agent that I would let him know my answer by the end of the month if I was interested in renting it.
Not wanting to overstay my welcome at Purvi's, I return home after three days. Also, because Akshay has agreed to come home today to teach me an accounting software.
With Akshay's banter and fooling, it was late night before we knew it. Since he has so kindly helped me, it is only fair that I at least, treat him to dinner. It is a particularly humid day and my fan as usual, was simply of no use. Akshay having low tolerance to heat, was sweating profusely. I suggested that he go wash his face to help cool off.
The doorbell rang sooner than anticipated. I open the door expecting the food delivery guy. Instead it was Jeet, still in his business suit. Apparently, he must have seen the lights in my house and approached here directly, on returning from work.
"Hi," his smile is one of relief, "I'm so glad you are back, I really need to talk to you," he takes a step forward.
Akshay comes out from the bathroom, shirt unbuttoned, wiping his hair and face. "The food arrived pretty qui.." he trails off noticing Jeet at the entrance.
"Good evening Vicky. What a surprise to see you... here?!" Akshay's greeting was more of a question.
Jeet looks at Askhay and then at me, a sneer replacing the smile on his lips, obviously misunderstanding this scenario. I open my mouth to correct him, but then I shut it. My personal life is none of his business anyways.
"Sorry to have disturbed you two. I just wanted to see if Tarana reached home safely. I can see she has. Good night!" He scoffs in scorn, before abruptly walking away.
"What was all that about? Why was Vicky here and at this time?"
I explain to Akshay about Jeet's purchase of this house and my tenancy here, omitting the marriage bit.
I am clearing the dishes after Akshay left, when Purvi calls.
"Hey! I forgot to tell you. Yesterday some Mahendra called in office, looking for Tara."
I nearly drop the phone from my hands.
I am too stunned to speak.
YOU ARE READING
Home Forever
ChickLitTarana Dheer. A young woman living alone in the bustling metropolitan city of Mumbai, trying to make her mark in the tough world of corporate PR in the world famous DeGlobal Corporation, while searching for an ideal place to call home. At work s...