Dil Jaanta Hai | ✔

forty-four

||CHAPTER 44||
《¤》

Amidst the faint glows of blue, gold, red and white, my phone lit up, vibrating against the counter-top of the bar. It had been ringing for quite a while now, but I just couldn't pick it up.

Because I hadn't for the past week, whenever she called.

"I think you should pick it up," said my brother, glancing at the screen.

The buzzing stopped, and I sighed. "You know, I never told you how proud I was of you to... be able to say those words to her that day."

His thumb played with the edge of the bar; he was nervous, he was afraid. "I guess you didn't."

Hesitating, I replied. "Do you... do you regret speaking to her that way?"

He looked up, "I should."

I rested my chin on top of my palm on the counter. All of us were honest liars.

"Remember the time you said it's her life, she's got her own command on it?"

Shaking my head, I turned to him. That Art Gallery inauguration night wasn't something worth reminiscing, but it wasn't something easy to forget. She had acted indifferent towards us. "Hmm, I do."

"You were right. It is her life. But since when did we cease to be a part of it, Vika?"

His words had struck a chord. Arnav Deewan was hurt, and I had been the one who could reciprocate and retrospect his vulnerability.

"It must be something important," he nodded towards my phone, which was buzzing again. "You should pick it up."

I held the phone in my hand, and looked at him. "Do you... do you want to take the call instead?"

He was hesitating again, so I took his hand and shoved the mobile in his palm.

"I'm not ready yet... And you shouldn't be regretting your decisions."

I had not expected him to hug me, because we did not form the ideal sibling duo, but I let him have his way.

Because I was about to have mine.

The party in my honour, turned out to be something that lived upto its expectation. It was lavish, brushing us with strokes of dark hues of gold, and exhausting.

Ishita met me midway, her bubbly persona four times the natural. I groaned.

"Don't you strain your facial muscles by making such clown faces?" I asked her when she fell into step with me.

"With a grumpy person beside me, I honestly do not know anymore. I'm exhausted, but who cares? I'm supposed to be socialising and charming everyone for a better future!"

With their elder daughter joining the Bollywood industry, the Gupta's only shred of hope rested in Ishita's hands.

"Would it be ironic if I say that I'd be pitying you if I didn't want to be in your shoes? Nice ones by the way."