Page 16 of Love Locked
“Do. Not. Utter. A. Word.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Forget this moment ever happened, or I’ll tell Ruhi all your old secrets. And no woman wants to hear about her husband’s past shindigs.”
“Chill, bro. You’re so extreme. My lips are sealed,” Vaayu replied and proceeded back outside, trying to imagine what would happen now that he had seen this spark. A spark that could turn into a dangerous inferno.
FIVE
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Anew job is so challenging, Mom,” Kyra spoke into the hands-free device as she parked her car.
“It is. But you can handle it, baby. I can say that for sure, as you’ve worked for your father.” Her Mom, Vrinda Kapoor, replied.
Her Mom was a softy. She was an unwavering source of strength and support for her and her sisters. In every phase of her life, she was the one who stood by her. Her mother was compassionate, unlike Digvijay Kapoor, who was strict and blunt. She was laid-back and amiable. Due to their different personalities, her parent’s relationship was the ideal balance of harmony with just about everything.
Kyra laughed at her Mom’s statement, feeling relaxed. She had an incredibly nerve-wracking three months at The Oberoi Infra. It was hectic and all about getting to know her new colleagues, their working methods, and current priorities while working on the basics of the new project.
She couldn’t believe it was already three months. She was too focused on the work as it was important for her to give her best shot. She always wondered if she was doing the right thing or making a good impression. Or everyone liked her.
Okay. Everyone probably liked her. Except for one person.
He had ignored her all these months. However, she wouldn’t put too much weightage on it. She knew when to ignore shit. She remembered the first time she stepped inside Adil’s high-end executive cabin. This rich interior setting was the backdrop to the most handsome man she’d ever seen, waiting for her and making her nerves race. After seeing Kabir, she remembered how she had stumbled. A sense of anxiety and excitement coiled in her stomach as she met Kabir’s intense gaze, scrutinising everything about her.
She remembered how welcome Adil and Vaayu had made her feel. Later, Vaayu treated her to lunch. Only Kabir had been unnecessarily broody and silent than usual. He’d just given her a lame-ass hello and cracked a forced smile that resembled a sneer. After the episode on the rainy night, things didn’t change. Now, he won't even smile at her. And she knew, he was avoiding her. There was no communication between them for last few months. She had tried to talk to him, but he avoided her at all costs.How were they supposed to work together like this?It was ridiculous. She was clueless as to why he didn’t like her.
Kabir was tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, his styled black hair naturally rumpled. It suited him. He always looked more approachable when he was a bit imperfect, the contrast of his crisp white shirt against his big, capable hands—it was unfair how good he looked. Her heart sped up just thinking about him.
“You’re doing that again,” her Mom stated.
“What?”
“Spacing out. What happened, darling?” Vrinda asked in worry. “C’mon, tell me. Is something wrong?”
“Everything is fine, Mom.” Shaking her head, Kyra decided not to dwell on these silly thoughts as she got out of the car.
“Baby, you sound tired. Is Adil making you work hard? If that’s the case, I’ll speak to him.”
“No, ma. You can’t just speak to my boss like that even though he is your son-in-law.” Kyra scoffed. “And you’re overthinking. It’s nothing.”
“Okay, if you say so. But, keep in mind, I’m just a call away.” Vrinda assured. “Listen, Dad is back home. Let’s talk later. Okay? I love you.”
“I love you too, ma. Tell Dad I said hi.” She hung up as she entered the house, placing her keys in a bowl on the hallway table.
A sense of peace settled over her when she looked around her house. The apartment was a tidy chaos. It mirrored her personality. The little knick-knacks she’d added to her own space looked simple yet remarkable. A collection of photographs of her friends and family on the living room walls revealed how close she was to them. The myriad throw pillows on the couch and bed gave the space a cosy look. The wall art on the bare walls confirmed her deep love for vintage items.
A coffee table sat in the heart of the living room. Her little cactus plant collection sat on the console table near the large window. Kyra was a xerophile. That meant she loved cacti. She liked them as they were low-maintenance, beautiful and air-filtering plants. She just adored the vibe they brought to the surroundings. And when people found out she was a xerophile, they frequently gave her quirky gifts related to cacti.
Before starting her new job, she moved into an apartment near her parent’s house. Finally, she decided it was time to move away and start living her life independently. She had always intended to do so, but Mira getting married and Nitya moving to a different country prevented her from acting on it. All things considered, Kyra felt her parents would feel lonely if she moved out, despite their busy social calendars. It was her nature to put others before herself, and it seemed almost impossible for her to break the terrible habit.
Nitya always complained about it. She mocked Kyra for having the ‘martyr syndrome’. But it was what it was. She couldn’t suddenly change who she was because someone didn’t like the way she lived. Even if that someone was her sister.
For the millionth time, her text alert went off. She left her purse on the coffee table, and as she was turning around, she stumbled upon a pair of slippers, making her groan. She had planned to live alone for a while, free from anyone interfering with her freedom, but luck was simply not on her side.
Recently, Nitya moved in with her while she sorted out her housing situation. Not that living with her bothered Kyra. For goodness’ sake, she was her sister, and she loved her. But Nitya lived a wild, teenager-like life, unlike Kyra, who hated all kinds of disorder and was meticulous.
Sliding the slippers under the sofa, Kyra headed to the kitchen. She checked the contents of the refrigerator for the ingredients to make a basic meal. Given the intensity of her hunger and the weariness from a hard day, a bowl of steaming pasta sounded like bliss. Her stomach rumbled at the thought. So, yeah... pasta it was.
