Faking Smiles

10.

Shivaay swiped open his phone and stared at the message. He tried to ignore it. He didn't want to meet her.

He tapped his own against the desk, his fingers wrapped around the pen as he brought it up and down over the surface of the table rhythmically. Tap. Tap. Break. Tap. Tap. Tap. Break. He ignored the buzzing noise that came from his phone, casting a discreet glance to see Tia calling, he resumed whatever he was doing.

He frowned as he again cast a look at the screen of his phone only to sigh, another call. He immediately declined it hoping that she would get the hint.

But she didn't, she tried to face time, when he rejected the call. Can't she understand that he didn't want to meet her? He was tired of all the things he had endured just so the things wouldn't end up ugly, but it was corroding him, he needed a break. From her and from this, whatever they had in between. If there was something, he thought with a wry chuckle.

Frankly, he wanted to let off the meaningless relationship they had been holding on. Tia is obviously not happy with him and he well, he would manage well without her. Hell, he had always been managing without her. She was never there when he needed her.

He was there when she needed him, she had more relationship with his card more than she had with him. He chuckled to himself, at that.

Him and Tia were always at odds.

At least with Mallika he had proper mutual understanding, which he lacked terribly with Mallika. He didn't even know how they even matched, he was so lonely that he ignored the part that they weren't compatible.

The tapping rhythm broke when his phone rang again for the nth time and he sighed, this time he decided to pick it up.

"Shivaay baby..." His hands clenched into fist to refrain himself. His lips curled at the nickname. He'd rather be called with just his name.

"Yes Tia?" He asked as he dropped the pen on the table, there was a clatter. He got up from his seat and walked over to the glassy windows.

He placed his hand against the glass pane and looked outside, his mind somewhere else.

"Why haven't you been picking up my calls?" She asked.

He stopped himself from asking, why were you calling when you knew I was rejecting the calls, he sighed and settled for, "had been busy. You know meetings and all." He said as he stared at the skyscrapers ahead.

She dismissed it, saying that she needed his help. Like always.

And he decided, this was the time. They didn't match, there was not even a spark in their relationship which would leave them longing for others. There was nothing. Just the need of companionship and that was not enough for him to hold onto this broken relationship.

Unfair, yes.

But this is what he had wanted.

And he had put himself behind too many times.

He was tired of mending the things that didn't need to be mended, as of now, his relationship with her. They weren't right for each other.

He couldn't understand her, he couldn't match the level of thinking.

He didn't want those extravagant and glamourous relationships he had seen with some business partners, what he needed that warmth, that cherish, that happiness, the care, that sense of vulnerability that didn't feel uncomfortable rather welcoming and comforting and that was something he had forgotten over time.

He needed someone he could call his home. He wanted to be their anchor in time of need.

He wanted to be in love.