Titaliya

Chapter 30

"It's that guy again," Sanjay said. "The one from your apartment building."

It was. Veda wasn't happy about it. She had hoped for two days away from the tangle of her life. She had hoped to spend time with her thoughts and her friends. Sanjay was solely focused on Asha since she appeared. Perhaps he wasn't so devoted to the girl he was in love with. Asha was pretty and unaware of it. She was special and kind, loyal to a fault, and loved unconditionally. Veda couldn't let her end up with a guy so fickle he talked about a true love one hour and flirted with someone else before the sun set.

Arnav was getting closer. She took out the card the employee handed to her and dialed the number.

How much did she have to try to get away from him? She had changed her name, she had left her family, she had become an entirely new person and yet he followed her.

"We have an uninvited, unwanted man here," Veda said. "Send security to escort him away as soon as possible."

"Did you just call security on me?"

"That's what one does when faced with trespassers," she answered.

Arnav couldn't believe the girl in front of him. One day she was letting him stay in her house, and the next day she couldn't bear to share the same oxygen.

"Veda..."

Veda turned towards Asha. "Did you call him?"

"I thought..."

For a second she forgot all the things she loved about her friend. She should've seen it coming. Asha was helpful, naive, and didn't understand complicated relationships. It didn't help that Veda had never shared her past. But she should've asked. She should've asked instead of trying to play matchmaker.

"Don't strain yourself with independent thought, Asha. It's not your strong suit."

The words felt like acid coming forth from her lips. But she was tired of being nice to Arnav, and the meanness in her heart wasn't something she could target at just him.

"And you," she said, turning back to the source of ninety percent of her problems. "I don't like you. I hate you enough to pretend to have lost my memory."

"What?"

It took him only a second to understand. Everything from the beginning had been a lie. She had pretended since Paris, and he had believed her.

"You lied to me," he said.

"Yes, I did. Am I supposed to feel guilty? My only regret is that my lie didn't keep you away. You wanted this new improved Khushi way more than the old one. Why is that?"

"Khushi..."

"Is it because I'm rich now? That's why Sanjay's parents want me. Or is it because you think you have a chance, thinking I don't remember all the horrible things you've said and done to me."

"It's all fine, now. We can be happy together."

She pointed at him, and then at herself.

"You.. and.. Me. We've been ill-fated since the very beginning. And I've been bearing the brunt of that ill-fate. I can't forget the feeling of my entire family hating me. I can't forget being seen as the problem when we had both committed a sin in their eyes. Our families didn't have the courage to question you, and they blindly blamed me."

She sat at the park bench and leaned back. It was long past the point of stopping her tears. They rolled down her cheeks in rivulets, hot against her cheeks. Why wasn't the security there yet?

"I left. You made me flee the only family I had. You exposed how their love was not, as I foolishly presumed, unconditional. I cannot forgive you for that. Not this easily."

She knew. She remembered everything. She remembered the insults and the abuse. What was more, she remembered their mockery of a marriage done with blackmail and insults. Everything destroyed in minutes. He had changed so quickly it had left her heart with whiplash.

Arnav stepped back.

"And you come here. Carrying jalebis like it's all some big joke. Like you're innocent."

She moved forward and would've slapped him if it wasn't for Sanjay. Asha held her one arm, and Sanjay held the other. The security finally appeared.

"Madame, he told us he was with you," the security guard said. "We never thought..."

"It's alright. Just take him away," Veda answered. "Arnav, just go away. Don't try to contact me again."

Surprisingly, he listened to her. He walked away between the security guards and left her feeling empty. An emptiness she had felt only once before in her life. Why was it that no matter which of them was going away, she was the one that ended up feeling worse?

Veda wiped the tears off her cheeks and closed her eyes. The sun was almost completely beneath the horizon, and their campsite was dark in the way only a forest could be. Still, she knew that if she opened her eyes she would hold him within her gaze until he melted into the darkness.

"Veda, I'm sorry," Asha said.

She turned to her friend. Asha was hurt, and hurting for her. Veda recalled the words she'd said, the truth phrased in the most unpleasant way possible. Until her fury was let loose she hadn't realized she was capable of such cruel remarks. Especially to those who did not deserve to hear them.

"No, I'm sorry," Veda responded. "You didn't know. And I didn't tell you."

She stood up from the park bench. The beginning of a headache was rooting itself between her eyebrows, and she drank some wine directly from the bottle. It was art masquerading as liquor, meant to be savored and appreciated. She used it as liquid courage.

"Perhaps it's time I told you," she said. "You might want to sit down."

Asha took a seat, and Veda began again. It was different telling Asha. Her grandmother focused only on her suffering. Asha heard everything she had to say, and felt it all. Veda knew that her grandmother only empathized with the injustice and sadness Veda had felt at the end of it all. But Asha could feel everything else as well. The disappointment in those around her, the feeling of being blamed by everyone and feeling like all her dreams had crumbled into rubble.

In the end, Asha did nothing. She only leaned forward and hugged her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into Veda's chest. "I would've never invited him if I knew."

"Let's just forget about it and try to enjoy this weekend," Veda said. She wanted to. The river looked like a dying rainbow as night descended, and the cold air was refreshing.

"I'm sorry Veda. My parents were the ones who chose this resort. We should've picked one with better security."

Sanjay looked out of place. He sat on the opposite side of the picnic bench, hands folded in his lap and discomfited by her story.

"It's alright. I had to confront him someday, somewhere. I'm glad it was here, without much of an audience."

"Now I realize that habit of yours, whenever you see him," Asha wondered out loud.

"What?"

"Your hand goes to your throat," Asha said. "And you look afraid. I thought it was just that you were surprised."

It wasn't surprise, and it wasn't fear. Veda knew immediately. Her body still remembered things about him. The weight of the mangalsutra between her collarbone. The press of his hand around her arm. Things that were best left forgotten. 

Writer's Note

Hey guys. I'm back, and I finally wrote the confrontation. This isn't the end. I believe communication is key in any healthy relationship, so there will be more conversations, more healthy arguments and fights.