Page 13 of The Promise of a Traitor

“Then why?” she asked, blinking back tears. Not one escaped and slipped down her cheek. “Say no. Call this farce off.”

“Why don’t you?” he asked, fisting his hand at his side to stop himself from reaching for her, from trying to comfort her. He was ever the fool when it came to this woman.

“I-I can’t.” Her words were a stuttering whisper, hopelessness flooding them.

His nails dug into his palm as he fought for control. He didn’t care, he reminded himself. He didn’t give a shit if she hurt. He wanted her to hurt. He wanted her to feel what he’d felt, what she’d done to him. He wanted her to suffer like he had.

And when he was done with that, he wanted to leave her in the ruins of her life. Just like she had done to him.

Maybe then, the jagged edges of his bleeding heart would start to heal. Maybe then, he’d sleep again at night.

A single tear escaped her ferocious control, sliding down her cheek, a damp, lonely trail. No, he thought. He was never going to sleep again.

Chapter Eight

Aastha

“You studied in the US too?” Advik’s father’s gentle question had her starting, the grains of rice on her fork trembling and falling back onto the plate.

“Uh yes. I-“ Flustered, she forked up some more rice and stuffed it in her mouth.

“I forgot that Aashika was studying in New York too,” Maya chimed in. “In fact, I’m surprised the two of you didn’t meet there.”

Aastha’s fork dropped from her hand landing on her plate with a loud clang. It rebounded from there, fell on her white kurta and then left a yellow trail down the soft material before coming to a halt on the clean, wooden floor.

Mortified, she ducked down to pick up the fork as she heard Advik say, “New York is a huge city, Ma.”

“Of course it is,” Maya replied, smiling kindly at Aastha as she emerged from beneath the table, her face red and sweaty. “But I figured as college students-“

“You figured wrong.”

The rude words stopped the instinctive explanations and excuses that rose to Aastha’s lips. Yash’s lips thinned as he looked over at his son who was white knuckling his glass and staring at his plate.

“I don’t-“ Yash began, the words a low growl.

Aastha spoke up before he could finish what was sure to be a blistering tirade, “Actually, I did see Advik there.”

She felt more than saw Advik still.

“You did?” Maya’s gaze darted between the two of them. Aastha kept her gaze firmly on her, refusing to give Advik the pleasure or privilege of eye contact. He was being an ass. He could stay in the Barn of Shame for all she cared.

“Yes,” she said, still clutching the fork she’d retrieved, her cheeks a fiery red. “I saw him at a café. He’d come in to place his breakfast order. I, um, I worked there to make some extra money. I was at the till.”

She didn’t think Advik was even breathing any more.

“Well, that’s quite a coincidence,” Maya said, smiling.

“Even more that you remember him out of the millions of customers you must have attended on,” Yash added, his flinty gaze still trained on his son.

“Well,” Aastha murmured, desperate to break the tension in the air. “That’s the easy part. You don’t really forget the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.”

Maya’s smile broadened. Aastha could feel Advik’s gaze searing into her profile, but she didn’t look at him.

“And,” she took a deep breath, “he had toilet paper stuck to his shoe.”

Yash laughed, a hard bark of sound that had her smiling too. “Your son,” she told him quietly, “is not an easy man to forget.”

“So, you recognized him when you guys met this time?” Maya practically had hearts and flowers shooting out of her eyes.