Royal with Rebel (Royal #2: Book 2)

14

-• i'll choose you•-

Sara Rajawat

I know Yuvraaj inside out. Despite only spending six months with him as his wife, I know him like the back of my hand. He's very easy to read. It's because he never lets you peek in far enough into his mind to reveal the incomprehensible. He might feel a hundred different emotions inside but he won't ever show them openly. He's so predictable because he's so closed off, using measured words, calculated actions, and predetermined reactions. You should expect rage when you break one of his rules, disappointment when you speak against him and praise when you do something exactly the way he expects you to do. Understanding him is easy, it's unraveling him that's hard. And I never went that far during our temporary arrangement. We might have shed our clothes off, but we might as well have been strangers that night, and he proved that by walking out on me the next morning.

That I expected, I only hoped against it.

"Marry me, Sara."

This I did not expect.

It came to me so abruptly I didn't have enough time to process the shock of it. The idea pedaled through my mind and the disgust came naturally like the back wheel. It was insensitive of me, I understand that now. But it was what I truly felt. And I don't plan to sugarcoat my reality anymore. The thought of marrying Yuvraaj again is nothing short of detesting. I've lived through that horror once, he can't think I'm stupid enough to go through with that again.

There's nothing to ponder honestly.

I shouldn't even be entertaining the thought, it's the absurdity of it that keeps the idea circulating in my head. I would have laughed it off if I hadn't seen the vulnerability in his eyes when I realised he was starting to feel something deeper for me. He was never the man of emotions. He's all emotions now. With his eyes, through his actions, spoken in his words, lingering in his slow, intentionally unintentional touches.

"How are we going to compete with Icon for next month's edition?"

The nib of my pen scribbles across the presentation file aimlessly. I called for an adjunct meeting to brainstorm ideas for our next month's edition since we're almost done for this one. It's an extra work everyone's willing to do before the festival season hits. Once that happens, everyone will be outside the office more and in the office less.

"Oh c'mon, we're only halfway through September and they already have next month's plan ready? Give me a break!"

I look at the annoyed faces of my team, none of them even covertly trying to hide their dislike towards our rising competitor. I hate how wrong I was about Icon. I've been in this industry for over a decade. I keep an eye on all of our competitors. Missing Icon's potential was not a mistake, it was my overconfidence. I underestimated them. Even when Yuvraaj challenged me, I pitied him, thinking the man was riding a donkey wearing the guise of a horse. It, in fact, is a horse, and the fastest one at that. Regardless of the fact that it started the race much later, it's so close to the finish line to make it to the top three once again. It's like history is repeating itself. Icon was the hottest and the only choice for fashion and lifestyle enthusiasts back in the nineties. I remember losing my wits every time the new edition would hit the racks.

Ironically, Icon started my love for magazines.

All the other magazines paled in comparison to Icon.

Icon offered the most variety. From sports to music. From theatre to movies. From having the most popular supermodels like Cindy Crawford on their magazine cover pages, to featuring interviews of personalities such as Karl Lagerfeld and Stan Lee. Basically, everything that was popular in the nineties, Icon covered it all. The beauty pageants, award ceremonies, fashion shows, sports events, they issued monthly editions for every chosen interest of the public. Icon showed you a glimpse of the world that sparkled so far away you knew it'd never come close to even touching the tip of your fingers.