Destiny For Unlikely Vows

Chapter 30 The Unspoken Rivalry

I had already finished eating, so I followed him to the parking area where Vincent was waiting by the car. We got in. He didn't say a word, so neither did I. I focused on the view outside the window, while he seemed busy with his phone, occasionally answering calls.
But every so often, I felt his hateful gaze on me. When I turned to look at him, he'd quickly look away or back at his phone. Or maybe I was imagining things.
We arrived at the hospital-or rather, a private clinic. Inside, he spoke to the receptionist in French and asked me to follow him.
After a brief walk, we entered a room where a beautiful Indian doctor stood. It suddenly struck me-he didn't come with me because he cared. His ex worked here. Tanya Malhotra.
She was our classmate in 10th grade and had been rumored to be his girlfriend.
How stupid of me to think otherwise.
They exchanged pleasantries, hugged, and kissed on the cheeks. They genuinely deserved each other-both were gorgeous and successful in their careers. Watching them together, jealousy crept up on me, but I suppressed it.
When Tanya noticed me, she didn't recognize me. I introduced myself: "Hello, doctor. I'm Riya, Mr. Rathore's employee." His piercing gaze burned through me, but I wasn't expecting him to introduce me as his wife, so I spoke up to avoid any awkwardness.
Tanya looked me over, scanning from head to toe like I'd committed some crime, before smiling and shaking my hand. She asked how I'd injured myself, so I explained about twisting my ankle and falling into the pool.
The whole time, I felt his gaze on me.
Tanya examined my ankle and asked about the pain and what I'd done for it. I told her my friend had applied a balm that reduced the pain. She said it was a good decision and called another doctor.
Soon, a tall, handsome man with blue eyes-Dr. Lambert Laurent-walked in. Are all doctors this good-looking? I prayed silently, Please let him speak English.
He approached me and smiled, revealing perfect teeth, and said, "Hello."
Relief washed over me. He assessed my ankle while Tanya explained everything in French. Turning to me, he said, "From now on, I'll be your doctor. Don't worry; you're in good hands."
Then he said Vous êtes belle, docteur Tanya votre patiente est incroyablement jolie.( You are beautiful, Doctor Tanya your patient in incredibly pretty) Tanya said indeed.
I smiled stupidly. Did he say I'm belle? What does that even mean? Am I stupid?
Lost in thought, my eyes landed on Mr. Rathore. His clenched fists and gritted teeth made it seem like he wanted to murder someone-either me or Dr. Laurent. Of course, he would prefer it to be me; there's no way he'd risk upsetting his pretty girlfriend by doing any harm to his friend. After all, he hates me.
Tanya then asked Mr. Rathore if he was free for lunch. He smiled politely and agreed. Like I care.
After 20 minutes, Laurent informed me it wasn't a major injury but would need 4-5 sessions to realign the nerve properly. I agreed.
As I booked an Uber, Laurent asked how I planned to get home. Before I could respond, Mr. Rathore interjected, saying his driver would take me.
I declined firmly, saying, "Whatever you've done so far is enough. I can take care of myself."
Laurent offered to walk me to the entrance. Smiling, I happily accepted.
Laurent chatted with me, and we had a discussion where he asked me what I do and how I ended up here. I told him that my company had sent me here for a year and all. We were still in conversation when Mr. Rathore arrived. He said he had something to talk to me about.
Okay, is this guy for real? The whole journey, he acted like I didn't exist, didn't utter a word, and now he wanted to talk to me? Laurent excused himself and said goodbye, asking me to visit tomorrow again. I told him okay.
Then, Mr. Rathore literally took my hand and dragged me toward the road. I was confused. What the heck is happening? I shouted, "Mr. Rathore, leave me! My hand is hurting!"
He finally let go of my hand and said, "You are pathetic. You are married to me, and yet you leave no chance to flirt with others. The rumors were true, that even in school and even now, you always need some boy toy. Sometimes it's your so-called friend Ankit, now this doctor, and even on our marriage day, Amit. You are pathetic, an attention seeker, a gold digger, a characterless girl."
Honestly, I lost my cool. I slapped him hard. There were only a few people around, so nobody noticed me, but tears started flowing from my eyes.
He stood there, holding me with both hands, and said, "This will be the first and last time I allow this. But from today, if you pull a stunt like this, the consequences will not be good."
My phone started ringing. I picked up the call-the driver told me he was there. I left Mr. Rathore standing there and started walking toward the Uber.
I sat in the back seat, crying uncontrollably. What have I done, God? First, you took the only good thing in my life-my mother-and now tied me to a person who hates me like anything.
The driver noticed my tears and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. I didn't want to go home, so I asked him to take me to the nearest park, which he did.
I got out of the car and walked into the park. I kept crying. An hour passed, and then my phone rang. It was Ankit. I picked up the call, still sobbing. He asked concernedly what had happened and whether I was fine.
I shared my live location: Parc des Buttes-Chaumont.
After half an hour, he was there, panting and searching for me. When he saw me, he hugged me and asked why I was crying, whether my health was okay, and if the doctor had said anything bad.
I cried a little more, then finally stopped and told him, "Everything is fine. I was just missing my mom."
He told me I scared him, cracked a poor joke, and then reassured me to keep quiet. "Everything is okay. I'm here with you," he said. I thanked him softly.
After calming me down, Ankit asked what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I said, I wanted to eat "Indian food." He smiled & nodded and said, "Okay. Today I brought my car with me."
He drove us to his apartment.
The moment I stepped inside, I was awestruck. His apartment was stunning-a perfect space for a bachelor yet expensive-looking. The décor was modern, with sleek furniture, stylish lighting, and a spacious layout that screamed luxury.
How could he afford this? I couldn't help but ask.
He smiled and said, "This is a two-bedroom apartment. But if you're impressed by this, you should see the one-bedroom apartments. They're tiny, with very little space. You have a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and a small balcony-all crammed into one small layout on the third floor & I know it will fit your budget. In next few days the apartment will be empty and I have already lined up for that, so you will get that don't worry.
He described how the smaller apartments had minimal space and yet everything fit in for my use.
His apartment, on the fourth floor, was completely different-spacious, well-organized, and beautifully designed.
He offered to cook for me and made chicken and rice. I was surprised to find that he was an amazing chef. I told him so and even joked, "Someday, I'll cook for you."
Honestly after so long I was having something cooked like we Indian prefer, and it was delicious. , he is not only good human being but a good cook too.
We chatted over the meal. For a while, I forgot all my worries and laughed with him.
When it was time to leave, I said, "I'll book an Uber." But when I checked my phone, I realized my battery was almost dead.
Before I could panic, Ankit took the phone from my hand. "I'll drop you," he said.
I didn't insist. He drove me back to Mr. Rathore's house.

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