Page 132 of Mrs. Rathore

I was giving Ira comfort out of friendship, not romance. We had both moved on and it had been over a year since our breakup. Ira had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me anymore,not even marriage, after the divorce. I respected that. I didn’t force her or try to change her mind.

I had no idea what I would do after divorcing Avni, but I was sure of one thing, I wasn’t going to marry again. I cherished the memories I had with Ira, and I was still figuring out what my feelings were for Avni. It was complicated.

Ira shifted, pulling herself closer to me. I tried to move away, but space was limited as we were squeezed in tightly. Rhea sat beside me, openly staring at Karan like a lovesick teenager. Oh, for God’s sake.

“Rhea…” I nudged her with my elbow, and she flinched, startled. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” she groaned.

“Stop staring at him,” I muttered, glancing at Karan. “He’s off-limits.”

“I’m free to look at whatever I want,” she hissed. “If you can juggle two women at once, then so can he.”

“Shut up!” I snapped. “I’m not cheating on my wife,” I glared at her.

“But her expression said everything…” Rhea nodded past me at Avni.

Shit. I didn’t want to see Avni’s expression to understand what Rhea meant. I could already feel it. I looked down at Ira, who was still nuzzling into my neck like a child.

Why the hell had Avni chosen Prashant instead of me? He might’ve been gentler with her, sure he had that absurdly handsome face that women apparently swooned over, according to my female colleagues but still.

I nearly lost it when I heard him offering to marry Avni. I would’ve broken his nose if he wasn’t such a respectful officer. My fist still itched to do it the way he was luring away the woman I was starting to fall for, right in front of my fucking eyes. The worst part? He was a damn good competitor.

But why the hell am I even thinking about a woman who hadn’t even spoken to me once today?

Once we got back to the hotel, I was going to make her pay for whatever game she was playing with me.

______

The sun had set behind the fairgrounds, painting the sky in hues of burnt orange and dusty pink. Golden lights lit up along the rows of stalls, flickering to life as the music got louder and the crowd swelled.

The Ferris wheel loomed tall and noisy, metal creaking and neon bulbs blinking like stars. Kavya had insisted we ride it for fun, for nostalgia. But for me, it just stirred something uncomfortable.

The ride operator called out, “Two per cabin.” Before I could even say no, Kavya grabbed Saurav and hopped into a cabin.

Rhea dragged Karan along, laughing about who would scream the loudest.

I looked at Avni, hoping, half expecting that she would glance back at me. But she didn’t. Her gaze was fixed on Prashant, and she gave him that same sweet smile that made my heart beat faster.

“Remember how we used to race for the blue cabin?” she asked, laughing softly. “Back when we were little?”

Prashant chuckled, God, even his laugh irritated me. “Of course. You always said the blue one went higher.”

“Because it did,” Avni grinned, tugging his arm. “Come on. Let’s find it.”

A tight knot formed in my chest. She didn’t even glance at me. She just vanished into a memory I didn’t belong to.

“I guess it’s just us,” Ira said gently, her voice calm as she offered me a kind smile. “Unless you want to…”

“No. It’s fine,” I mumbled, stepping into the cabin with her. The metal seat was cold, but my heart burned like fire.

As the Ferris wheel started moving, I gripped the safety bar, watching the other cabins slowly rise. Two cabins ahead, I saw Avni’s profile as her hair falling softly, her smile wide and open, all for Prashant.

It grated on my nerves. The way she laughed with him, how easily she opened up, how she allowed herself to enjoy that moment. She looked happy. Happier than she had in weeks with me.

Ira was chatting about the fair lights, how Jaipur reminded her of old Bollywood movies. I nodded, barely listening. My eyes were locked on Avni.

The breeze lifted her hair. Prashant leaned in, pointing at something, and she tilted her head back, laughing again. That laugh was so free and unguarded, stabbed me in places I didn’t know still hurt.