Page 24 of Born in Ruin

Ishaan

“Another drink?” Ishaan asked as he stepped out on to the balcony where Mayukhi stood, her back to the room, her face tipped up to the night sky. She shook her head, her mind clearly elsewhere.

She looked…ethereal. She wore a simple, black jumpsuit that clung to her toned, lithe body, large oxidised, dangling earrings and an oxidised chunky bracelet on one hand. At some point in their emotionally charged evening, she’d bundled her hair up into a messy bun, loose tendrils trailing down her neck and disappearing into the back of her jumpsuit.

His hand reached for one of those wavy strands, curling and falling away before he made contact. Ishaan swallowed hard as he looked away. He hated her, he reminded himself. Hated. But it was hard to remember that after this night, after watching her put herself on the line for them.

“You’re sure about this idea?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, exhaling hard. “It’s better than yours.”

He slanted a derisive look at her. “Really now? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yourbright idea was to buy up my father’s company, imply the closure of mine, force me to marry you and infiltrate my friend’s circle.”

Ishaan pulled a cigarette out of a smashed packet he found in the depths of his pant pocket.

“And I pulled it off successfully.”

“They will never accept you,” she said, straightening and turning to face him, those cool eyes raking his face. “Whoever you marry, even if it’s Naveen himself.”

“Thanks but he’s not my type.”

The matter of fact words shouldn’t sting. He didn’t need acceptance from people who made evil look good. He didn’t even want it. He revelled in being hated by them especially since he hated them right back. And still, it hurt. Why did it hurt? Was he destined to forever be the scholarship boy who’d never be accepted? No matter how far he travelled in life, he never shook the past off.

“They will never believe that I fell in love with you. But they will believe that I’m being forced to marry you to save my father’s business. All of which is true as you know. I’m not in love with you and I am being forced to marry you to save my father’s business.”

Ishaan’s jaw tightened but other than that miniscule movement, he showed no reaction. If her words had regret and shame pooling in his heart and mind, he didn’t show it.

“But they will believe that I’m willing to help them, my friends, screw you, my father’s oppressor, over. They will believe that I could never love you.”

And on that note, she loosened her hair, smoothed the long waves over her shoulder and squared her shoulders.

“I’ll let you know next steps once I know them.”

She had her hand on the doorhandle when he spoke, his voice rough and gravelly, “Where are you going?”

“Home.” She turned the doorhandle and opened the door.

“I’ll take you.”

“No, thank you.” She glanced over her shoulder, hair trailing down till her waist in a glorious, wavy mess. “I’ll take a cab.”

“No-“

“I want to.” She turned away from him but he still heard her words, loud and clear. “I need the space.”

He stayed on the balcony, watching her say goodbye to his friends and leave. Dhrithi walked her to the door and the two women hugged, doing the little side sway before Mayukhi left and the door shut behind her.

He exhaled, his fist closing and crushing his unlit cigarette. He slipped off his shoes, allowing his toes to curl into the carpet that lined the wooden flooring of the balcony. The glass door slid open and Virat stepped out. He came to stand beside him, resting his elbow on the railing and looking out into the night, unconsciously mirroring Mayukhi’s earlier pose. Ishaan rubbed at his chest, the sharp pang in his heart unnecessary and uncomfortable.

“Dhrithi and Amay are heating up dinner.”

Ishaan grunted in response, his emotions still feeling ridiculously stormy.

“She has balls,” Virat said, his gaze on a rooftop restaurant across the street that looked to be hopping tonight.

“She does,” Ishaan agreed, his fingers worrying at the crushed cigarette in his pocket.

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