LOVE SOAKED

CHAPTER 8 - never again

TRISHA

The downpour outside mirrored the storm raging inside me. Fiancee? Billionaire playboy? The carefully constructed image of Asher Brown, the charming Ceo with a twinkle in his eye, smooth talker, giving off BDE( BIG DICK ENERGY)lay shattered on the rain-slicked pavement. Well except one, not like I knew and not that I'd found out now,after.....

"Hello? Asher? Can you hear me? Babe?Everything alright over there?" The sickeningly sweet voice on his phone, the one that shattered our comfortable bubble, and almost gave me diabetes, was being replayed on a loop in my head. My fists clenched around the damp napkin in my hand, the flimsy paper about to tear under the pressure.

Flirtatious glances across the table, stolen touches, whispered promises of "this" again – all a carefully orchestrated game for him, it seemed. A billionaire’s amusement, a notch on his bedpost. How naive could I have been? Didn't I know better than to fall for the oldest trick in the book? Mathi kettirbeku nange, thu!!!( my head must be in the gutter)

"Bakra naane aagbekitta?"( was i the only scape goat he found) I fumed in Kannada, the anger spilling out in my mother tongue.  "They're all the same, these billionaire playboys. All they care about is adding another trophy to their collection, another notch on their bedpost."

The betrayal burned like acid in my throat.  The way he looked at me, the way he made me feel… the nickname, "storm", the one I never got to ask him why.... it had all been a lie.  He'd played me for a fool, used me as his exotic entertainment while his perfect, fiance-shaped life waited for him back home. What a fucking dick i thought.

With a silent snarl, I threw a couple of crumpled bills on the table, barely enough to cover the untouched tea and the samosa I couldn't even stomach.  Ignoring the bewildered look of the barista, I stormed out of the cafe, after barely telling my goodbye to Asher I ran out before he could say anything.The rain... a welcome baptism that washed away the remnants of his touch and the sting of his betrayal.

The cold rain soaked me to the bone, a harsh but fitting consequence for my foolishness.  But as I walked, the anger slowly morphed into a dull ache of hurt.  Did I really think someone like him, a billionaire with a picture-perfect life, could be interested in a simple architect from Bangalore? I almost laughed at how stupid and naive I had been, to think I'd be saved by the perfect guy was a dream my mom forbade me from having and that's exactly what I had ended up dreaming.

Reaching my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, shivering and miserable.  Work was out of the question.  There was no way I could face him after that, not today, not ever.  With a heavy heart, I called in sick, the lie a bitter pill to swallow but a necessary one.

The rest of the day blurred into a haze of self-pity and tearful rage.  My phone buzzed incessantly, Asher's name flashing on the screen, but I ignored it with a steely resolve.  There would be no explanations, no tearful confrontations.  He could have his perfect life, his perfect fiancee, and I would have my self-respect.

Tomorrow, I would return to work, head held high.  No more stolen glances, no more flirting, no more meaningless nicknames.  Just professional courtesy, a cold indifference that mirrored the hollowness I felt inside.  He might be a billionaire, but I, Trisha Sharma, had my pride.  And that, no amount of money could ever buy.

"I will never, ever dream of being saved by the perfect guy ever again, no one is perfect, especially guys. I would save myself or I'd die trying. I shouldve learnt this after my cheating ex but hey, it's never fucking late, is it? "

"From tomorrow , watch how many fucks I actually give about you Mr. Brown".

Looking at the clock on the wall I realized I'm still too tired to deal with Asher tomorrow and decided to take another day, after tomorrow off too. With that thought I called my girls and asked for a girls night tomorrow, I desperately needed one. Dropping a text off to my girls I let my fatigue engulf me, dragging me straight to sleep.