Just A Friend?

Chapter Forty-Nine

Rakesh paced back and forth in their room, gnawing on his nails, the taste of anxiety sharp and bitter on his tongue. He had never experienced anxiety attacks before, but he was certain he was having one now. His mind raced with restless thoughts, desperately searching for any last-minute strategy to stop the wedding. The outcome of his previous night's efforts was still unknown, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

He had made his move, fully aware that he didn't care if Rahul ended up hating him. But what infuriated him was Rahul's lack of reaction. The man had shown no response whatsoever, not even a flicker of emotion. What if nothing worked? The worst-case scenario flashed vividly in his mind: an image of a sobbing Sweety, her hand intertwined with a smirking Rahul, while his brother dramatically fled, tears streaming down his face like a woman betrayed by a lover who had promised her the world.

Rakesh shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the disturbing vision. Just then, he heard the washroom door creak open. He turned to see his brother, emerging nonchalantly, casually wiping his head with a towel. Fully dressed in an exquisite beige sherwani, he looked every bit like the groom himself. Rakesh's anger doubled at the sight of his brother's composed demeanor, as if the impending marriage didn't concern him at all.

"Are you for real?" Rakesh asked in disbelief, staring at his brother, who seemed utterly detached as he methodically dried his hair with a towel. Prabhas turned to look at him briefly before continuing his task, his movements mechanical.

"Today is her wedding!" Rakesh's voice echoed with relentless urgency.

"I know," Prabhas replied, his tone devoid of any emotion, as if he had become a shell of his former self. Rakesh's eyes flared with a mixture of anger and worry.

"Do you not care?" he demanded, frustration boiling over. Prabhas remained silent, which only fueled Rakesh's fury. "I'm asking you!" he shouted, grabbing his brother's arm and forcing him to stop.

Prabhas's eyes were empty, lifeless. Rakesh's anger melted into deep concern. "What's going to change by me caring about it on the wedding day of the love of my life? Is that going to change anything?" Prabhas asked, his voice a hollow echo of his once vibrant self.

Rakesh's gaze softened. He placed a supportive hand on his brother's shoulder. "If nothing is done, you'll lose her forever," he urged, his voice gentle but firm.

Prabhas smiled, but it was a bitter, sarcastic smile that spoke of deep pain. "I already lost her the day she left our town during my college days. I've just been living in the delusion that I could somehow see her again and change everything," he said, his voice soft and filled with sorrow.

Rakesh's heart ached for his brother. After a pause, he suggested, "What about eloping with her?"

Prabhas turned to look at him, his eyes filled with a mix of incredulity and sadness. "No, Rakesh. I've already hurt her and her family too much. Now she's about to start a life with a man who truly loves her, a man her family approves of, and we both know he will do everything to keep her happy. I can't make the same mistake and destroy everything for her and betray the trust of the people who care about her," Prabhas said, his voice steady but laced with resignation.

He turned back to the mirror, combing his hair with a calmness that belied the turmoil inside him. Rakesh stared at his brother, torn between wondering if Prabhas was being exceedingly foolish or profoundly wise. His gaze then shifted to Prabhas's attire, his confusion evident.

"What's with this attire?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"There were two bags on the nightstand when I got back to the room. Each had a personalized note from Rahul. Yours is still there. I thought you brought them inside," Prabhas replied. Rakesh recalled Rahul handing him the bag and his own careless placement of it on the nightstand the night before.