Dil Beparwah | ✔

forty three

||CHAPTER 43||
《¤》

┊A R V I K A┊

We stopped at a red light.

The AC was cranked up, the stereo hummed random advertisements. One arm gripped the steering wheel, the other held the gear. I observed him from the side-view mirror, couldn't look at him directly. The question had stirred an awful tension, and watching him press his lips into a thin line, release a tensed exhale, clench his jaws turned my veins icy.

Eighty seconds remained for the signal to turn. Varun released the gear, lowered the volume. Gauging his reaction, I didn't expect him to answer. In fact, I almost wished he wouldn't. But a one-line response snipped the silence.

"Latika is my ex-wife."

I choked on a breath I didn't know I was holding. Of all the things I'd been bracing myself to not conclude, this hadn't even crossed my mind. "Oh."

The air inside became too heavy, a strange weight sinking down my chest. Goosebumps prickled my skin while on the contrary, my ears warmed up. I cleared my throat, trying to diffuse my nerves, "Hey, uhm, window khol sakte hai kya?"

Wordlessly, he pressed the button to roll the windows down. The wind was a welcome distraction paired with the busy stretch of road. An ex-wife. Not a flaunty affair, a serious relationship. A woman who wrote books about him, a woman who he had a past with, a woman who had all his firsts, a woman he... he loved.

Varun was a married man. That sure was a first for me.

My eyes fixated themselves on the car in the lane next to us. How ironic, watching a family of four in their compact bubble. Something he probably would've had by now if they were still together.

So many questions itched to pop that bubble, but even in my head, it was not my place. It shouldn't affect me. Ravit was getting married, that didn't bother me. This should've been no different. Why was this different? So fùçķìñg different.

At the very least, I guess I could appreciate his candour. I had explored risky before, but whatever this was, whatever led me to keep seeing him again, apparently needed to stop. I didn't do labels, but honestly, what were we doing that this news made me feel so... overwhelmingly uncomfortable?

At a crossroad, Varun cleared his throat. "Should we go back to my place?"

"I think it'd be better if we don't uhm–" I paused. Don't what? "Can you drop me home? I've got work early tomorrow morning."

He had a lot to say, I knew. Giving me a wary glance, he nodded. And so, I consummated the white noise by giving him directions to my apartment.

When we reached, the silence became more pronounced. I fidgeted with my bag, proceeded to unlock the car door. "Thanks for tonight. It was great."

"Glad." He wasn't. But resigned, I closed the door behind me and heard him drive off anyway.