Page 81 of Red Flags and Rishtas
? Redecorate my room
? Delete Aadar Chauhan’s contact
Some of the other things were harder to do.
Move on
Uninstall Tinder
Go for a therapy session
Break unhealthy dating patterns
But I knew I had to start somewhere. I’d been putting off uninstalling my dating app for a few days. I’d been dependent on it for so many things in the last couple of years – validation, action, entertainment, free food and drinks – basically everything other than what I should’ve been looking for on it. I needed a break.
I long-pressed the familiar red and white app logo on my phone and hovered over the uninstall button when my heart sent a plea to my brain.
A couple of swipes? For old time’s sake?
I laid down on my bed, stuffing two pillows under my neck, and began swiping. I couldn’t deny that I would miss this world, where I could club men into distinct categories based on their carefully curated profiles and badly written bios. I began saying my goodbyes as I swiped left on the pool of men in front of me.
Goodbye, 420 friendly men. Goodbye,F.R.I.E.N.D.S.vsTheOfficefans. Goodbye, ‘not here for hookups’ guys. Goodbye, ‘not active here, DM on Insta’ dudes. Goodbye, sapiosexuals, bibliophiles, polyamorists, chaisexuals, pickup line users and dick pic enthusiasts.
And then suddenly, without warning, an all-too-familiar face popped up on my screen.
He only had one photo – a selfie. It had been taken in a park or an open area, perhaps after a morning run. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, making his thick curls sticky.His dense eyebrows were creased together, shielding his whisky-brown eyes, which pierced right through the screen at me.
I tapped on his profile to read his bio.
‘Looking for a tiny twenty-seven-year-old woman with frizzy hair, commitment issues and a fierce competitive spirit. I’m a simple, sweet guy, but I’ve been referred to as The Asshole, The Enemy and The Devil Reincarnate by said tiny woman. If you know her, tell her I’m looking for her. If youareher, swipe right and give me a chance to explain, please?’
My heart sped up as I gaped at the face of the man who had rejected me. What was he doing on Tinder? Was this a fake profile? Why would anyone make a fake profile of a nobody? Was someone trying to play a hideous prank on me? The questions zoomed through my head, leaving me no room to breathe.
Stop, I scolded myself,it doesn’t matter.I’d decided to move on, and whatever unfunny game the Universe was playing with me right now, I didn’t have to participate in it.I’ll just swipe left and be done with it, I decided.
And then, at the last moment, my fingers rebelled and went the other way.
It’s a match, the app proudly declared.
I froze.
I got up from my bed, abandoning the phone on the mattress. I started pacing my newly redone room, dragging my feet on the fresh grey rug I’d laid out in front of my bed.
What the hell was happening?
A ping went off, and my whole body reacted to it with alarm bells of its own. I approached my phone with caution, as if it was a bomb that might go off at any second.
You have 1 new message from Aadar.
I opened it.
I gawked at the message, trying to make sense of it.
I cursed out loud, placing a hand on my heart to make sure it was still beating.
The words swam in front of my eyes, making it impossible for me to understand or respond to them. After a few minutes, the screen lit up with another text from him.
My knees gave out under me, and I collapsed onto the bed. I caught sight of my face in the mirror on my dressing table. I looked like someone had kicked my metaphorical nuts.
