“That’s not what I heard,” Aditi muttered. Her sister had regaled her with gossip around Harish’s broken engagement, apparently caused by his interfering mother and his own inability to take a stand for himself. The touch of unease in his expression told her that the gossip was probably true.
“Forget that,” he said, obviously wanting to move on from the topic. “Are you getting married?”
“How is that any of your concern?”
“We were together for a long time. I have a right to be concerned.”
She couldn’t hold back an incredulous huff. “No, you don’t. We broke up. It's been almost two years.”
“Time won’t erase our memories.”
Aditi sat back, watching Harish put on his best impression of a docile, loving man. It was this version of him that had had her fooled for too long. She released a breath, finding thankfully that he had no effect on her anymore.
“Did you bring your wallet?” she inquired, her tone flat and even.
Confusion flickered in his eyes. “Yes, why?”
“Because I think you’re stealing terrible dialogues from a B-rated movie and if I have to listen to your bullshit, you’re going to have to pay for my drink.”
Immediately, his nostrils flared. All pretence of softness fled his face. “You’ve turned into a bitch.”
“Ah, there’s the asshole I knew and loved.” Aditi insolently raised her cup to him, taking a sip. “I could pretend that I missed you but if I were that good at acting, we would still be in a relationship.”
“You'd be tolerable if you didn't have so much to say.” Harish clenched his teeth tight enough that his jaw looked like it would splinter. She hoped it would. “You’re impossible to love, Aditi.”
Despite herself, those words caused a dull ache in her chest.
“Considering the only one you love is yourself, Harish, that was the first correct thing you’ve said since you got here. You could never have loved me.”
“Me? It was your behaviour that ruined it.” The vicious gleam in his eyes was hardly hidden anymore. Aditi knew Harish’s personality. The fact that she had not immediately fallen over herself to speak with him meant that he would use every opportunity to belittle her and wear her down until he could get her to do her bidding.
It was a tactic she was well acquainted with.
“You got drunk and missed coming to a planned meeting with my family. I sat there, dressed to the nines, waiting for you and your parents to come discuss our engagement,” she said, her voice devoid of any feeling.
“You avoided me for days after that,” she recounted, remembering the numbness and confusion of not knowing what had gone wrong. The paralysing doubts that had surrounded her when she couldn’t contact him. Worse yet, she’d been responsible for the embarrassment her parents had faced when they’d been stood up by the Hebbars.
She had cried for months, the loss of her first love weighing as heavily on her as the guilt of letting her parents down with her choices.
“I called you numerous times, left you countless messages. You didn’t even bother texting me back once. I was devastated.”
Instead of discomfort at being reminded of his ungentlemanly behaviour, Aditi saw a hint of sadistic pride at her confession. Disgust swirled in her, hating that she had never recognized this side of him before.
“I was busy,” he said, as if it was sufficient enough excuse for his callousness.
“Yes,” Aditi laughed sarcastically. “You were busy getting drunk and partying with your friends. And I remember clearly what happened after that, don’t you?”
The sly smile on his face dropped.
“You tried to force yourself on me. You insulted me in front of everyone because I refused to sleep with you in your friends’ house after you called me fat and stupid. Andmybehaviour ruined it?”
“Let it go, Aditi,” he replied, not the least bit bothered by how horribly he’d treated her in their final moments together. “Here. Let me make it better. I'm willing to give you another chance as long as you can work on being the woman I want you to be.”
“Are you delusional?” she spluttered, completely lost as to how Harish thought this was the concession she was seeking for her heartbreak.
“You don’t have to pretend,” he smirked.
Slowly, deliberately, he dragged a gaze over the parts of her that were visible above the table. His sights lingered at her chest, his appreciation making her feel unclean.