Page 13 of Born in Ruin

“Sri!” Mayukhi got to her feet, unease swarming through her. “What are you saying? That’s bitch level infinity.”

“You think I’m wrong?” Sri stood and walked over to the door. “I’m not. The family you come from is everything, Yukhi. You pick the wrong person and you’ll end up like Varun.”

Mayukhi’s blood pounded in her veins, a confusing mix of emotions streaming through her. “Varun died in a car accident.”

“No, he didn’t.” Sri tossed her a pitying look over her shoulder. “The bitch he married killed him.”

And with that last damning statement, Sri left, the door slamming behind her.

Mayukhi gripped the edge of the sink counter, her breath coming in short, hard gasps. She splashed cold water on to herface, not caring if she was ruining her makeup. It didn’t help. She needed to get out of here. Her emotions still rioting through her, she dabbed her face with some tissue paper before exiting the bathroom. Her headlong rush came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Ishaan lounging against the opposite wall, his hands in his pockets.

“Going somewhere darling?” he asked mildly.

Fuck her life, Mayukhi thought. Fuck it all.

SEVEN

Ishaan

The Porsche hummed as they slid through the late night traffic. Neither Mayukhi nor he had been interested in staying any longer at the event, and had left, the tacit understanding between them both unsettling and comforting. There was not meant to be any understanding between them, tacit or otherwise. And yet, the memory of that kiss travelled with them, a living entity that seemed to be breathing down his neck.

Mayukhi stared out of the car window, her head resting against the glass, looking almost hypnotised by the mundane scenes flashing by. Ishaan glanced at her set profile, her jaw clenched, her brow furrowed.

“Thinking deep thoughts?” he asked, changing lanes to overtake the water tanker in front of him.

He saw her visibly work on smoothening out the worry on her face before turning to him, her face a mask of calm. “Deep thoughts? Me? Don’t be insulting, Adajania,” she murmured.

Ishaan laughed. “Kraken, nobody could accuse you of being dumb. Playing dumb maybe but never being dumb.”

“Listen Scholarship Boy, I remember all the times you made fun of my grades.”

“Well.” Ishaan smiled, his dimples deepening. “It’s not every day you see someone flunk English.”

Mayukhi rolled her eyes at him, her own lips twitching reluctantly. “I thought it was the grammar paper. I didn’t expect to have to decode Shakespeare instead.”

Ishaan laughed out loud. “Do you feel like some ice cream?” he asked her.

“Ice cream?” she repeated.

“You know the sweet, creamy, cold thing you scoop out of a cup or lick on a cone? Come on, Kraken, even someone who failed English would know what ice cream is.”

He pulled up in front of a tiny family run ice cream outlet that boasted all natural, fruit flavoured ice cream. Mayukhi wrinkled her nose at the sight of it.

“If I’m having ice cream,” she drawled. “I want the unhealthy, tasty kind.”

“Give me some credit,” Ishaan retorted, opening his door and gesturing for her to follow. “I promise you’ll never find ice cream that tastes better than this.”

Mayukhi heaved a very put upon sigh and exited the car, ignoring the hand he held out to help her across the road. Ishaan put his rejected hand into his pocket and followed her into the little ice cream parlour.

“What would you like?” he asked Mayukhi as she pouted and scanned the menu for the choices.

“Strawberry,” she mumbled finally, slapping the plastic covered menu onto the counter with a grimace.

“I’ll have fig and honey, Ajji,” Ishaan told the elderly woman behind the counter who was glaring at Mayukhi like she was peeing inside her shop.

They took their little cups and tiny, pink plastic spoons and sat down at a little, round table in the corner. Ishaan’s knees bumped into Mayukhi’s as they tried to fit themselves into the limited space. He noticed her pointedly pulling her legs away so they didn’t touch. So, he decided to manspread and stretch his long legs out even further. The red silk of her dress brushed against his black trousers, a blood coloured splash that reminded him of all the reasons why he was buying this woman ice cream.

Never mind this tiny ice cream parlour, there was nowhere Mayukhi Chatterjee could hide that he wouldn’t find her. She could roam the entire universe and she still wouldn’t be able to put space between them.

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