Page 8 of Married in Vengeance

Five

RAM

Later that evening,Ram stood beneath the shower in his private bathroom, eyes closed, arms braced against the wall, the water running down his neck and back.

It was done. He was a married man now.

Someone hammered on the bathroom door. Ram ignored it, a harsh exhale escaping him. What had he done? What the fuck had he done?

“Rammmm!”

“Ram, open up!”

“Or we’ll break the door down.”

“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath, turning the shower off and swiping streaming water from his eyes. He stepped out of the cubicle and grabbed a towel, drying himself. His suit pants and shirt were hanging on the hooks on the back of the door and he shrugged into them quickly. The mob outside was quite capable of breaking the door down.

He glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, a split second before he looked away. It would be a while before he could face himself again, if ever.

“There he is! The man of the hour!” Harsh Kodela, his brother-in-law crowed the minute the door was open and the whole lot of them crowded into the room. A second later, Harsh’s wide grin dimmed. “Is that what you’re wearing to your wedding reception?”

Ram glanced down at himself as he shrugged into his suit jacket. “Yes,” he muttered.

“Dude, that style is about a decade behind.” Harsh was frowning now. “Why didn’t you tell me you need help? I would have helped you with your outfits for the wedding.”

“I didn’t need help. I like what I’m wearing.” Ram muttered, not meeting Agastya’s gaze. His other brother-in-law, Agastya Kodela, stood in a corner of the room, his arms folded across his chest as he watched Ram, a contemplative look on his face.

Ram ran a brush through his hair, not bothering to gel it into submission. He quickly knotted his tie, tightening it until it felt a lot like a noose around his neck. Just like this marriage.

“It will take us an hour in traffic to reach the venue,” Agastya said now, his voice level and authoritative as always. “We should leave in ten minutes so we can make it on time.”

“Your convoy will clear the road,” Harsh countered. He pulled out a hip flask and looked around the room. “We need shot glasses. Where can we find some?”

“We aren’t doing shots.” Ram and Agastya snarled at the same time.

Virat chuckled as Harsh shrugged and pocketed his hip flask. Virat hadn’t said a word, as yet, and he was the only one in this room who knew the truth of this marriage.

“We should get going,” Ram muttered.

“In a hurry to meet your wife?” Harsh winked, his good humour rubbing against Ram’s last nerve.

“Let’s go, man.” Virat clapped a hand on Harsh’s back and ushered him out of the room before he managed to push any more of Ram’s buttons.

Ram went to follow but a large hand came down on his shoulder, holding him back. The door shut behind Virat and Harsh, silence descending on the other two occupants of the room.

“I’m not in the mood, Kodela,” Ram gritted out.

“I can see that, Gadde,” Agastya said mildly. “Why exactly aren’t you in the mood?”

Ram paused. At the best of times, he wasn’t a great actor. And this certainly wasn’t the best of times.

“I don’t need you to bust my balls right now.”

“I wasn’t planning to. How can I help?” Agastya asked gently.

Ram’s shoulders slumped, his breath leaving him in a shuddering exhale. He could handle anger, irritation, even good-natured taunting. But he really couldn’t handle compassion. Not right now.

“You and I, we’re like opposite poles on a magnet,” Agastya continued. “Repel each other but still so damn alike.”

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