Vows of Misfortune

6.

A/N: since the other chapter was kinda short I thought I'd post another chapter!

***

Patience didn't help us plenty at all.

In fact it only did the opposite.

I opened the laptop a few days later only to slam it down. The only people that were liking my profile were those who were either unemployed, balding, or old. No offense but even if I was desperate that wasn't the way I wanted to go.

"You know what?" I said to myself. "I'm just gonna go back to England and do online dating. That seems more plausible at this point." I nodded to myself. Yeah, I mean, who in the right mind even came up with this stupid idea of accepting my mum's wish of getting an arranged marriage anyway?

You did, you fucking idiot, my mind said. Oh yeah, it was me. Shit. The panic clawed at me and I pushed back my frizzy wavy hair behind my ears.

"Still no one?" mum asked as I seated myself at the dining table. Aunty was serving breakfast before she plopped down beside her husband. They all looked at me, waiting for an answer. It seemed that I was the only source of entertainment for everyone these days. Even for myself.

"Nope," I shrugged, trying to give off the impression that I didn't care. I bloody cared. "They're all ugly, fat, unemployed or old." I shoved in a mouthful of puttu and beef fry into my mouth. "Oh, and bald."

"No doctor or engineer?"

"Manisha—"

"No, Prem. Just because she was..." she trailed off, glancing at my uncle and aunty before barraging forward, "she's not worth nothing. We're a good family. Anjali made a few mistakes, so? What did Arshia do? We are definitely not so low as to worth getting old, balding men!"

"I understand, but being angry about it isn't going to solve anything." He placed a spoonful of curry onto my mum's plate and nudged her to eat. Bless my dad for being the only person capable of calming my mum down when she got angry.

I shook my hand on the plate to get rid of the remaining crumbs and pushed back my chair. "I'm not hungry," I mumbled, and left to go wash my hands. After drying them, I grabbed my phone and stared at my sister's number.

I clicked on the text message icon and began to type:

Thanks a lot for being a part of ruining my life. I hate you. Because of you, no one fucking wants me, is that what you wanted? Because of you and your selfishness. I don't want to talk to you so quit fucking calling. I won't pick up.

Pressing send was relieving for a moment, easing my anger, but then that clenching of my stomach began. That stupid guilt. Maybe sending that was petty, but I was doing a lot of things lately that I wasn't very proud of.

Varun had changed me into a monster. I didn't even recognise myself as I looked into the bathroom mirror. I needed to get out of the house. It choked me.

"I'm going out for a while," I yelled into the house hoping someone heard me. My uncle poked his head around from behind the living room wall.

"Where? You're not familiar with the area—"

"I'll survive. I've got my phone with me."

"Wait, grab some money from the drawer before you go. Take the rickshaw."

I did exactly that and before my parents could restrain me, I headed down the steps and toward the narrow street. My mum would probably have a heart attack despite me being a twenty-five-year-old woman, but I just needed time to myself. Hell, if I could live on my own in London then I could walk around in India for five minutes.

I waved down an auto rickshaw and sat inside. "Uh, the mall," I said, vaguely. I had seen it coming from the airport but I didn't really know what it was called. Apparently, he understood though because he began to drive. The wind was a cool relaxant to the humidity in the house as well as the air that frizzed up my hair more than it normally was.

I never thought I'd miss the bitter ice wind of London, but I found that I was. The sights here were different, but not in a bad way. There were lots of bikers with families and couples and a lot of trucks, too. There were big parks that were filled with people.

There was something going on in every scene that passed. We had pulled away from Main Street and to a narrower area that seemed more polished with buildings and shops crammed beside each other on either side. As I was pulling my head back to prevent it from being detached from my neck by another car, I spotted a man on a bike with leather gear covering him from head to toe and a dark green helmet flashing by at top speed.

An elderly woman leaped out of the way, screaming as she did so. He swerved just in time and I gasped, waving at the auto-rickshaw driver.

"Wait, wait," I screamed, "stop, please!" What if the woman had gotten hit? I hurriedly paid the driver and ran back the way we came from, shielding my eyes from the sun.

The woman was on the floor and the biker was in the midst of getting off, probably to help, but I didn't let him. I crouched next to her almost immediately and grabbed her arms.

I didn't miss a beat to shoot him a sharp glare, hoping he could feel the venom from my gaze through his black shield that disguised his whole face. He was only a few inches taller than me but very lean with the jacket stretching over his built muscles.

Before I could even comment on showing us his face or being a coward, he pushed the shield up in one movement. His downturned almond-shaped eyes were very sharp in the gaze alone. The hazel orbs glued me to the floor with a piercing strong stare. It was a beautiful colour, one I'd never seen anyone here with, but one that didn't hold any mercy.

I staggered through to make my point. "Wh-what is wrong with you?" I spat. "Are you blind? Did you not see her crossing the road?"

"Pedestrians aren't allowed to cross through that area," he responded, voice smooth and silky, rumbling in its cords.

"Does it matter? Show some respect to your elders or something, aren't you supposed to know that?"

The man turned his head away from me like he was ignoring me and came over to the lady that I was holding. He squeezed her shoulder and leaned down. "You doing okay, ma'am? Do we need to get you to a hospital?"

"No, I'm only a little bit shaken," she said, waving her hand up and down.

"I'm sorry for nearly colliding into you. Next time, try crossing through the other street. Things like this can happen easily."

Was he serious right now? I scoffed and opened my mouth to say something else when he turned and fluidly swung his leg over his bike and revved the engine. He manoeuvred into traffic as easily as he came out and sped off at a speed that I couldn't even fathom.

I narrowed my eyes. Bloody idiot.

"God bless," I heard the tremor of the old lady's voice.

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you, sweetie." She patted my cheek before wobbling away with her grocery bag like nothing had ever happened and I couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh. Even she got up from something as tough as nearly being hit and walked it off.

Why couldn't I do that?