Page 31 of Shattered

I groan inwardly, knowing exactly where this is headed. “Aunty, we’renotdiscussing this,” I say firmly, giving her my best stern look.

“Ya ya, why would you want to discuss anything with this old lady? After all, who am I but just a caretaker!” She shrugs in a melodramatic way, which has me both smiling and exasperated.

“Aunty, please, no need for drama. I am too smart to be trapped by it,” I grin at her. “You very well know how important you are to me. And I promise I will soon talk to you about Reyansh, but today is not that day.” Then, hoping to distract her, I add, “Aunty, can we focus on breakfast now? I am hungry, and I am really craving your stuffed paratha. Can you make them for me, please?”

Aunty smiles warmly and nods. “Of course, dear. Why don’t you freshen up and get dressed while I go the kitchen and start preparing your parathas?”

“Sounds perfect,” I reply as Aunty bends and kisses my forehead before she walks out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

I huff, my eyes drifting back to the file on my lap and then to my phone on the side table. I know I should call Officer Viraj to inform him about what I found, but there’s a part of me that wants to reach out to Deepak first. It’s not because I still have feelings for him—not even remotely close—but I do want to give him the benefit of the doubt for the sake of the years we’ve been together. I know it might seem foolish, but I can’t shake off this feeling of wanting to hear him once before Officer Viraj steps in.

With trembling hands, I pick up the mobile and dial Deepak’s number.

“Kavya,” he says the moment he answers.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself. I don’t know why, but hearing his voice stirs up emotions I thought I’d long buried. My hand tightens around the mobile as I try to focus on the reason for my call, pushing aside the hurt and pain that his voice evoked in me.

“Can we meet?” I ask him.

“I’d like that,” he responds quickly, almost relieved. “I was actually thinking of calling you, but I didn’t have the courage. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to talk to me. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you called.”

Before I can respond, Maya’s voice cuts through the background, demanding to know who he’s talking to. For a second, it feels like I am having an out-of-body experience. It’s still a bitter pill for me to swallow that he cheated on me with her. I am on the verge of ending the call, but then I hear him assure her that it’s just a friend. I hear the sound of footsteps and a door closing, assuming he must have stepped into another room, away from her to talk.

“Sorry about that,” his voice returns to the call.

“That’s okay, but can we meet alone?” I manage to say, though my voice wavers.

“Sure, name the place and time, and I’ll be there,” he responds without any hesitation. I am relieved he didn’t push for more details. I wasn’t comfortable having this talk over the phone or with Maya around.

“Does one hour from now work for you at the coffee shop downtown?”

“It works,” he says, and I hang up the call without much of a goodbye.

I take a deep breath, my thoughts filled with uncertainty. What will hurt more—facing Deepak after all these months or confronting him about my sister’s death?‘I guess I will have tofind out,’I say to myself as I put the file away on my bedside table before heading to the bathroom to get dressed, bracing myself for the emotional storm ahead.

???

Sitting at a small two-seater table in the corner of the coffee shop,I wrap my hands around the warm mug of coffee, staring blankly into it.Ever since I realised the accident wasn’t really an accident, I’ve been on edge, and seeing Deepak’s name on my sister’s phone log only amplifies my anxiety. Doubts cloud my mind as I debate whether confronting Deepak is the right move or not.Maybe yes, maybe no. But at least I had called Officer Viraj on my way here, asking him to check into Deepak. He promised to get back to me, and I cling to that small hope that this meeting with Deepak doesn’t end up being a colossal mistake on my part.

“Kavya,” I hear the voice and look up to see the one person I never wanted to face ever again. Yet here I am, staring at Deepak, dressed in those familiar denim jeans andthat casual red polo neck t-shirt—the one I gave him for his birthday.The sight of him in it only heightens my discomfort, making it painfully obvious that meeting him was a terrible idea, even before we’ve exchanged a word.

Why is he wearing that t-shirt? What does he want to prove?These questions churn in my mind, but I push them aside, unwilling to give him the pleasure of knowing I still pay attention to him or am affected by him even in the slightest way.Instead, I plaster on a neutral expression, pretending like his choice of outfit means nothing to me.

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet me,” I say, my voice coming out cold, and I am sure he caught the lack of emotion in it.

“You don’t have to sound so formal, Kavya.We’re not strangers.We don’t have that barrier between us,” he says with a sigh, taking a seat across from me.

“Contrary to what you think, there’s absolutely nothing between us,and there certainly is no ‘us,’”I retort sharply, my anger seething just beneath the surface.

“Did you ask me to meet you just because you were itching for a fight?” he asks, raising his eyebrows as he signals the waiter. The audacity of this guy—acting like he’s done nothing wrong, as if I am just some toddler throwing a tantrum. But I know better than to lose my cool. I need to have this conversation and find answers.

“No,” I say through gritted teeth as the waiter arrives. Deepak gives me a nod before turning his attention to the waiter to place his order. Once the waiter leaves, he brings his eyes back to me and leans back in his chair.

“So, if it’s not to start a war, then what is this about?”

“Nisha,” I say, holding his gaze andwatching his brow furrow in confusion.

“Nisha?” he questions, then looks concerned. “Is she okay?”

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