But for tonight, I could do nothing but stand here and burn with the knowledge that the woman who owned me was in someone else's arms.
And I had no one to blame but myself.
Chapter 16
Viya
The party ended around one in the morning. By that time, most of the guests had already left, and only a handful of people remained, still chatting in small groups near the bar.
Puneet and I had stayed until the end, talking with Akshita and some of the other developers. It had been a nice evening, all things considered. The music had been good. The food had been excellent. Puneet had been his usual charming self, making me laugh with his jokes and stories.
But throughout the entire night, I had been acutely aware of Armaan's absence.
I had seen him when I first arrived. Just for a moment. Standing near the bar with a glass of whiskey, deep in conversation with several board members. He had looked devastatingly handsome in his black suit, his jaw set in that serious expression he wore when discussing business.
But after that first glimpse, I had not seen him again. It was as though he had vanished from the party entirely.
Puneet dropped me home, walking me to the door like the gentleman he had always been.
"Thank you for tonight," I said, giving him a hug. "I needed this."
"Anytime, Viya. You know I am always here for you." He pulled back and studied my face with concern. "Are you okay? You seemed distracted all evening."
I forced a smile.
"I am fine. Just tired. It has been a long month."
He did not look convinced, but he nodded anyway.
"Get some rest. Call me if you need anything."
I watched him drive away, then let myself into the quiet house. The lights were dim, and everyone seemed to be asleep already.
I climbed the stairs slowly, my feet aching in the heels I had been wearing all night. When I reached the bedroom, I found it empty. Armaan was still not home.
I took a long shower, washing away the makeup and hairspray and the lingering scent of the party. The hot water felt good on my tired muscles, and I stayed under the spray longer than necessary, trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions in my chest.
By the time I emerged, wrapped in a towel, it was almost two in the morning. I changed into my comfortable cotton pajamas.
Still no sign of Armaan.
Where was he? Was he still at the party? Had he gone somewhere else?
I climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I should sleep. I was exhausted. But my mind would not quiet down.
I was just starting to drift off when I heard it. The sound of the bedroom door opening.
I sat up quickly, my heart jumping into my throat.
Armaan stumbled through the doorway. His tie was loosened, his hair disheveled, and his movements were unsteady. He kicked the door shut behind him and turned the lock with fumbling fingers.
He was drunk. Very drunk.
"Armaan?" I said softly, pushing the covers aside and standing up. "Are you okay?"
He did not answer. He just stood there, swaying slightly, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
I moved toward him, instinct overriding caution. He looked like he was about to fall over.
