“You say one bad word about her, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue off!” He struggled against the hands that held him back from making good on his threat.
“If you don’t believe me, ask your father!” Rahul shouted, more confident now that he knew there were people who’d run interference between him and his blood-thirsty opponent. “Ask that bitch who took money from him in his office today. I saw it all. Your father paid her for you. Or maybe paid her to stay away from you! You’re the pathetic one here, not me!”
Enraged, Vihaan shoved off every restraining hand and punched his way to Rahul who tried to turn tail and run. By the time the security guards and the principal came rushing, pushing their way through the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight, Vihaan had a bleeding lip and Rahul had a broken nose with a black eye that was beginning to swell rapidly.
Vihaan barely heard a word of the reprimand he received, nor did he feel the slightest bit remorseful for being suspended for the weekdue to his behaviour. Considering it was his first major transgression on school grounds, he’d gotten off easy.
Instead of relief however, his mind remained mired in what Rahul had said. The recollection of the picture he’d seen caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He growled in annoyance, hating that he’d let his dickhead cousin get to him. Sitting back in his car, he rolled down the glass on his window as his new chauffeur navigated through the busy roads leading home.
So what if Vera had met with Papa? He was sure there was an explanation for it.
But. . . the money?
“I need the security of money so if I have to pick it over you, I will”.
Her words slithered into his already troubled mind like a poisonous fog shrouding the edge of the cliff he was mindlessly approaching.
The knot in his chest tightened. Vera would have never taken money from his father. If she needed anything, she’d ask him, wouldn’t she? And she’d certainly never leave him. He wasn’t secondary in her life, and she knew by now that he was capable enough to help her, didn’t she?
He pulled out the acceptance letter he’d been carrying around all day, his gut twisting as fear as something that felt uncomfortably like doubt began to gnaw at his insecurities.
Then, by providence, Vihaan saw Vera standing by the crosswalk.
“Hold on, park the car on the side street,” he immediately ordered his driver, jumping out the door even before the vehicle had fully come to a stop. He jogged towards the intersection, looking around until he spotted her entering a shop halfway down the block. He followed immediately, intent on speaking with her when his steps slowed.
Brows furrowed, Vihaan stood outside the storefront, wondering why Vera would have any need to visit the jewelers. Before he could even consider going in, he saw her through the glass window,speaking with the old owner as she reached into her bag and pulled something out. Time slowed and everything around him blurring as his vision homed in on the scene inside. Vihaan watched, shock rendering him mute as Vera handed over the bangle he’d so lovingly earned for her, pocketing the stack of notes the store owner gave her in return.
Unable to fully process what was happening, Vihaan stumbled away, retreating like a coward instead of confronting Vera. For the rest of the afternoon, into late evening, he remained numb, hiding away in an abandoned fort at the edge of town. The isolated spot did nothing to calm the chaos churning within him. Conflicting thoughts and alternating theories tormented him. On one hand, he wanted to deny everything that Rahul had said. But he’d also never dreamed that Vera would sell the symbol of his love for her without telling him.
She’d smiled when she’d seen that money.
In relief. In happiness. In satisfaction.
And with that bright smile, she’d thrown his world into darkness. How was he to make sense of what his eyes had witnessed, his mind had deduced, but his heart refused to accept?
He glanced at the missed calls on his phone. His father, His mother. Vera. All calling him for different reasons, he was sure.
Determined to get answers despite the screaming pain within his skull, he dialled Vera’s number.
“Hello?”
“Did you go to Reed & Co. today?” he asked, incapable of going through the niceties one normally did at the beginning of a conversation.
“I. . . Vihaan? What? Where are you?”
“Answer the question! Did you meet my father?”
“Y-yes. How did you know? Did your dad talk to you already?”
Talk to him about what? That their relationship was over?
“Did he ask you to leave me?” Vihaan questioned, feeling sick.
“He did, but—”
“Then did you take money from him?”
The silence on the other end felt like damning proof. It took every ounce of his restraint to not hurl his phone against the ground when she didn’t respond fast enough. After what felt like an excruciating wait, her soft voice filtered through his speakers.