Page 18 of Mrs. Pandey
But now I know. Now... I see her for who she really is.
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Chapter 9
IRA
I was surprised, not shocked, to learn that Aryan had been temporarily transferred to Barmer. Even better, he had been granted family accommodation and had already moved into his quarters with his wife, Avni Rathore. What fantastic news. I had just run away from two men, and now, by some twisted stroke of fate, they had come to settle in the same place I had been quietly trying to live in peace.
First Prashant, six months ago. Now Aryan.
To be honest, Aryan didn't deserve the cold shoulder I had given him all these months. I hadn't even replied to his letter, just rejected it with brutal finality. It wasn't his fault Avni had forced him into marriage. And if I hadn't pushed him to drink that night, maybe he wouldn't have. Maybe he wouldn't have been behind the wheel. Maybe he wouldn't have run over the woman who was now his wife.
I didn't know the current state of Aryan and Avni's marriage, but I was going to find out.
I did feel a flicker of guilt for calling Avni a cripple, but I couldn't help it. I didn't like her. I would never like her. Aryan deserved better than that stubborn, sharp-tongued woman.
There was an officers' party that evening in the community hall, and Aryan and Avni were expected to attend. I was still stuck on duty, sorting paperwork, but I planned to go later to speak toAryan, to make sure he was okay, and that Avni wasn't torturing him with her usual drama. If she tried anything, I swore I would rip the hair from her head.
"Lieutenant," he said, his deep voice slicing through the silence and making me jolt to my feet.
I raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. "Captain."
Prashant stood at the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable and cold, same as always. He had hated me ever since I made that awful comment about his failed mission. Truth was, he hadn't failed. He had won the war as every scar on his body testified to that. I was just so angry that day. The words slipped out before I could stop them. I hadn't meant to wound him, but I had. I had been hurting him since the day we met.
"You finished your work?" He asked as he stood tall in his perfectly pressed uniform, his jaw locked tight. His eyes were sharp and cool, unwavering.
I hated that nothing ever seemed to rattle him. What I hated even more was how he looked at me like I was a problem that needed solving. I had just been wallowing in my own thoughts, and now he had materialized, stone-faced and unreadable.
He could laugh, smile, and joke with every other woman in the barracks, but not with me. He had a problem with me. Then again I was the one who had created that problem.
"I need to pick up a classified file from Major Choudhary," he said briskly. "You're coming with me."
I blinked. "Me?" It had been months since we had even exchanged words, let alone worked together.
"Yes, you..."
"There are at least a dozen other officers available."
He didn't blink. "But I asked for you."
My heart paused.
Slowly, I set down my pen. "Is that an order, sir?"
His jaw twitched. "Would it make you move faster?"
I stood, adjusting the collar of my uniform as I stepped toward him. "No, Captain. But it would remind me why I can't stand working with you."
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smirk, but it was too bitter to be amused. "You think the feeling's not mutual?" he muttered as he turned and walked away.
I followed him, my boots echoing sharply against the hallway floor.
We didn't speak for the next two minutes. The silence stretched between us. Years of arguments, old wounds, and unsaid words clung to the air, simmering just beneath the surface.
"Remind me again," I finally said, my voice dry, "why do we hate each other?"
Prashant didn't look back. "Because even silence feels warmer than your company."
