Page 35 of Born in Grief

“Well boo fucking hoo,” Ishaan muttered. “She was the one who had the big fat Indian wedding with that chuth, didn’t she? She dumped you for him, didn’t she?”

“I know what she did and what she didn’t do, Ish,” Amay snapped irritably. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“But you’ve forgiven, is that it?”

“She’s all alone okay?” Amay’s volume rose, his temper fraying. “All fucking alone.”

“Why is that your problem?” Ishaan roared back, his plate tilting dangerously in his hand.

“BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE ALL ALONE!”

Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, chests heaving and emotions flaring.

“Well fuck you!” Ishaan said finally. “What are Virat and I? Chopped liver?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Amay put the plate down and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Ishaan took an extra-large bite of his food, looking a lot like a mutinous toddler. “Well, what did you mean?” he muttered.

“Guys?”

The mild question from the other end of the hall had them both snapping, “What?”

Virat stood in the entryway, a suitcase at his foot, eyebrows raised as he took in their shouting match. “I just wanted to know why there is a woman sleeping in my bed,” he added mildly.

“You’re back,” Amay said stupidly.

Virat’s eyebrows went even higher. “I am. You asked me to come back, remember?”

“Yes but…” He glanced at Ishaan who shrugged and stuffed his face with more food. “I thought you said a couple of days. You said you’d be back in a couple of days. You were tracking the Varun situation.”

“Yeah, I was. I still am.” Virat left his suitcase against the wall and sauntered over to the kitchen. “Is there more food?”

Amay and Ishaan nodded, neither saying anything.

“So, which one of you dickheads is going to tell me why there is a strange woman sleeping in my bed?”

Ishaan pointed his fork at Amay. “He will. It’s his woman.”

With a muffled growl Amay turned on him. “She is not my woman.”

“Dhrithi.” Virat breathed the name. “Of course. I should have put it together.”

“Look, all I’m trying to do is help her okay? Be a friend of sorts.”

“A friend? You’re not her friend,” Ishaan growled back. “You haven’t been in years. You were her friend. You’re not anymore.”

“She was a child back then.” Amay was back to shouting. “We were all children. And in case you haven’t noticed, Ish, some of us have grown up. We don’t hold on to childhood grudges. Virat, tell him! Tell him that bringing Dhrithi here was the right thing to do.”

“Actually, I think it’s the worst thing you could have done,” Virat said quietly.

Chapter Twenty-One

DHRITHI

“My wife, Dhrithi.”

Varun beamed proudly as he introduced Dhrithi to the Chief Minister of Maharashtra. She smiled at the older man and folded her hands into a demure namaste trying not to flinch as Varun’s hand on her lower back pressed into her bruised skin.

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