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“Your mother is going to be furious,” she warned.
“I can handle my mother, thanks. You worry about how you’re going to explain things to your parents,” he retorted.
“This is all her fault. That royal bitch put you up to this,” she snarled.
Aryan pulled over to the side and hit the brakes.
He turned towards Arshia, and she flinched at the fury in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare drag Jessie into the mess that you created, Arshia,” he warned softly.
“What do you expect me to do? Spend the rest of my life waiting for you to stop panting after her?”
“I’m not panting after anyone,” he bit out.
“Right. That’s why your eyes follow her around all the time. What does Jessie have that I don’t, Aryan?” she asked bleakly.
“It’s not a competition, Arshia. You’re a wonderful person in your own right. And trust me, Jessie and I are just friends. Nothing is going on between us. I would never do such a thing to you.”
“I know that. But tell me honestly. If Jessie gave you one sign, wouldn’t you go running into her arms?”
Aryan was silent as he thought about it. He didn’t know how to answer that. If Jessie even crooked her finger at him, every cell in his body would strain at the leash to go to her. But he wouldn’t do it. He knew that there was no future for him and Jessie, and he wouldn’t risk his heart for a mere fling.
How was he supposed to explain that to Arshia? She deserved better than him, though. She deserved someone willing to make a wholehearted commitment to her.
He sighed and turned to meet her accusing eyes.
“Arshia, I…”
She didn’t let him finish.
“No! You’re not breaking up with me! Not over a woman who doesn’t even look at you. We can make this work, Aryan. We can build a future together,” she declared.
“What kind of future will it be, if it’s based on compromise and not love?”
Arshia flinched as the meaning of his words sank in. Her eyes filled with tears.
“How wonderful can I be, Aryan, if you’re so sure that you could never love me?” she whispered.
It was Aryan’s turn to flinch with guilt. He had never meant to attack Arshia’s self-esteem. That was unforgivable.
He rubbed his face tiredly, wondering how he had managed to fuck things up on such a large scale.
“You know what? I want to go home, now,” she whispered.
Aryan drove her home, and Arshia went in without saying a word.
He felt like an absolute heel. But there was no way to fix this. He couldn’t lead her on anymore. Maybe there was a woman for him out there, one who would drive Jessie out of his heart forever. But Arshia was not that woman, and he wouldn’t destroy her life by pretending that she was. He had to find a way to break up with her. And the sooner the better.
CHAPTER4
JESSIE
The Devgarh Club was famous for its rich and decadent food, which was expected because the bastards had poached my grandfather’s prized Lucknowi khansama in the year 1957. The Club had kept Babban Miyan’s rich legacy alive over the years. It wasn’t unheard of for the rich and famous of India to fly down for the weekend just to eat their famous Nihari Gosht, Galawat ke Kebab and Sheermal, followed by their signature Gulkand ki Kulfi.
Which was why I did a double-take when Deep ordered a chicken salad. The waiter looked at me in horror, and I shrugged helplessly. I didn’t even know if the Club offered anything as pedestrian as a chicken salad. The only thing remotely close to a salad that I had seen on their menu was Palak Chaat, and I could swear on my firstborn that there was nothing healthy about it.
The waiter tried to tempt him with a mutton biryani and a chicken rezala on the side, but Deep was stoic in his refusal. He even gave the waiter exact instructions on how to make the salad. I had visions of Babban Miyan’s grandson weeping over his kadhai in the kitchen just because a guest had waved away his delicacies in favour of a salad that required a more complicated assembly than the Mars Rover.
