Page 45 of Born in Grief

“Yes. For you it’s always about you and only you.”

“How is any of this mess about you?” she asked, anger propelling her to her feet.

“I’m the one who operated on you, who dragged you back from death’s door, and who tried to keep you alive and healthy. But no. God forbid you let me or anyone else help you. You need to continue to protect the bastard who tried to kill you. Is this some twisted version of mourning the man who apparently thought breaking your bones was a hobby he should excel at? Or are you one of those masochists who doesn’t know how to live a life without being hurt and tortured? If you are, I’m fucking surprised Psych cleared you for discharge!”

“A masochist?” Dhrithi shrieked, her hair flying as she stormed towards him.

“Why else would you stay married to an asshole like him? Why else would you have married him to begin with?”

“FOR YOU, YOU ASSHOLE! I MARRIED HIM FOR YOU!”

Amay gaped at her, a strange buzzing noise filling his ears. “For me?” he said. “You broke my heart, laughed in my face when I begged you not to leave me, and then kissed Varun in front of me…FOR ME?”

Chest heaving, eyes wild, and her hair flying in pretty much every direction, Dhrithi looked like a lunatic. She was also sounding like a lunatic. Amay was having serious doubts about that psych consult.

“What does that even mean?” he asked, a broken laugh escaping him.

“He knew your father killed your mother.” Her words were a bare thread of sound. “He knew and he was going to tell everyone about it. He was going to-“ She stopped talking, her eyes filling with tears as the truth came into the light for the first time.

Ice slid through his veins as he looked at her. Knowledge of her betrayal hit, a gut wrenching punch to his throat. There were only three people who knew his truth. Ishaan, Virat and the only girl he’d loved with the whole of his stupid, young heart. Ishaan and Virat were the last people to talk to Varun, forget telling him anything. So, there was only one person who could have. Somehow, this was worse.

Until now, he’d believed she’d chosen Varun over him and that had almost broken him. But this…this was a betrayal of every second of their friendship and the love he’d thought they’d shared, the love he’d definitely felt for her even if it clearly hadn’t been reciprocated.

“I had a diary,” she said now.

“I don’t want to know.” Amay turned away from her, pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes.

“He read my diary without my consent, Amay.” Her voice took on a pleading note. “I would never have told him. You have to believe me!”

Amay said nothing, his aching heart making it impossible to string words together. His thoughts were a toxic mess of regret and hurt.

“After whatever happened that night and you were suspended from school…”

“No.” He shook his head. They wouldn’t talk of that night. He didn’t care what they talked about, but they wouldn’t take aboutthat night.That was a box of memories none of them could afford to open. And he wasn’t sure what Dhrithi truly knew about it.

Dhrithi swallowed hard but she didn’t say any more about his suspension and subsequent expulsion. After a second’s pause, she said, “Varun told me that he’d keep your secret if I chose him. So, I did. My brilliant teenage plan was to pretend to choose him, find where he’d stashed my diary, burn the so-called evidence, and then be free to be with you. But after,” she paused, swallowing the words ‘that night.’ “After,” she repeated. “You guys were banned from campus and I never found the diary. The lie of choosing Varun got deeper and deeper. My parents loved it and pushed me further down that road, making it impossible to step back…and well,” she raised her hands on either side of her. “Here I am.”

Amay’s gaze burned into her tear-filled ones. His heart and mind churned, varying degrees of pain, hurt and anger swirlingthrough both. He was about to say something when the front door opened and Virat walked in. He came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hall, his eyes going from Amay to Dhrithi and back.

“I have no idea what I’m interrupting,” he said, his hands out in surrender mode, palms up. “But we need to talk.”

Dhrithi wiped at her damp, teary eyes, turning away from them.

Now what? Amay exhaled and cleared his throat, forcing his hands to stay on his hips and not go wandering off to comfort Dhrithi with a hug.

“About?” he asked Virat.

“My sources say the warrant is no longer being squashed. It goes into effect tomorrow.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

DHRITHI

Dhrithi sat on the balcony of Amay’s home, a steaming mug of tea in her hands, and stared out into the distance. The skyline of the city of Mumbai spread out in front of her, a vista that always brought a lump to her throat. She loved this city but it hadn’t loved her back. Life in Mumbai had been anything but easy.

She picked up her phone and dialled her father. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been for him to just ignore her call. She typed out a message.

Can you call me?

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