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His breath hitched. “Fuck!”
Gone were those gorgeous red tips he loved, and in their place was the regular dark brown shade of her hair. He hated it on sight. Without a thought, he moved in her direction. She looked up and saw him approaching her. She must have sensed the riot on his face because she left her colleague and met him halfway.
“You removed the red from your hair?” He was annoyed to see her bland and dull hair.
She smiled. “Yes. I thought a change was needed.”
“Why?”
She chuckled, her entire behavior cool and composed. “I don’t think, as a boss, you ought to ask me such a private question, Mr Bali.”
Right. Of course. What was he thinking? He was the one who’d drawn the boundary line between them; now, he had to abide by the rules of the said boundary.
From behind him, Akash said, “Jee, you’re back. I saw your pics. What fun!”
Leaving Rohan, Jiya went to Akash and gave him a quick hug. “Dubai was a much-needed break. It was super, as usual. Did you see the pics I sent you? You won’t believe who I met there…”
The two of them walked away, looking into her phone screen, chatting happily. He watched them until they disappeared from sight. Rohan pressed a hand to his aching chest. What was wrong with him? Why was his heart feeling like it had been crushed by a hammer? He ought to be pleased that their break up hadn’t affected Jiya. That she was moving on happily. That’s what he’d wanted, right? But for the life of him, he couldn’t stop the pain from spreading from his heart to every nerve and cell of his body. He missed her…so much, and she was… She was absolutely okay without him.
He exhaled a harsh breath. Now, if only he could train himself to be just as fine as she was.
24
Rohan stopped his Range Rover in the driveway of Sehgal Plaza Delhi and handed the keys to a waiting valet as he climbed out. He looked at the façade of the hotel, the same one where they were supposed to have their very first date before everything had gone drastically wrong. Fuck. That felt like such a long time ago. So much had happened since then. He entered the foyer and went in the direction of the ballroom, his steps heavy. Thinking about Jiya always made him feel sad, and he’d been in that constant state of unhappiness since he’d let her go.
He’d accepted that Jiya had moved on from him. It was amply clear over the last few days. And while earlier he’d hardly see her in the office, now it seemed that the universe was conspiring against him. Almost every time he stepped out of his office, she was there, either in the elevator or on one of the floors he was on. And each time, she treated him like a mere acquaintance. Gone was her earlier familiarity and sass. Now she was formal and maintained a distance from him. She hardly exchanged more than a few necessary words with him, but with her colleagues and Akash, she had plenty to talk about. During lunch breaks, he’d pass by the in-house restaurant and find her engaged in happy conversations with whomever she was eating with. Several times, she wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence.
The situation ought to have been perfect…it was exactly as he’d imagined it would be once they broke up, but now that he was facing it, he hated it…from the bottom of his heart. He’d never expected her indifference and nonchalance to affect him. But it did. It so did.
He turned a corner into the corridor that would lead him to the ballroom. He was just not in the mood to socialize tonight. He’d not been in the mood to do anything lately, but his parents held this charity function every year in support of underprivileged women and their kids. It was a charity important to his mother, especially. She supported several causes, but this one was dear to her. She’d never been able to give birth herself, and therefore, she did her best to ensure that pregnant women and mothers who needed support found it via her organization.
Usually, Rithwik also made it a point to attend. However, this time he hadn’t been able to make it. He had, however, promised to meet all of them soon, and he’d bring his whole family along. Hence, Rohan had to show face, for all their sakes. The silver lining was that Nirvaan would be here.
Nirvaan’s wife, Rhea, ran their art gallery, QubeArt. She was responsible for coordinating all the artwork that would be auctioned here, but since she was in the last trimester of her pregnancy, she too couldn’t make it tonight.
He entered the vast hall, and his heart rate spiked on seeing the vast number of people in attendance. He took several calming breaths like his therapist had advised him long ago. Entering these loud, noisy gatherings was difficult for him, as always. When he could finally breathe easily, he strode forward.
His mom, as usual, had gone all out, and it showed. The décor was all bright and all on point. Sehgal Plaza’s grand ballroom boasted three massive crystal chandeliers that added to the grandeur of the setup. The charity function tonight was a silent art auction. Paintings done by various popular artists were displayed on easels and on the walls all along the perimeter of the ballroom, where a roped carpeted walkway was made for people to look at the pieces on display. There were seascapes, landscapes, modern art, as well as a few sculptures. Bright overhead lights were strategically placed to highlight every piece showcased. Interested patrons were writing their bids down on whichever painting they wished to buy. At the end of the night, the highest bids would be announced. The buyers would be contacted in due course by his mother’s team, and the art piece would be personally delivered to them. In the meantime, the various guests mingled whilst consuming the best food and drinks money could buy.
He noted several familiar faces in the crowd. He avoided them all and headed straight to his parents. They were chatting with an elderly couple.
His mom’s face brightened when she spotted him. His parents excused themselves and came to him.
“Rohan, you’re here!” She stretched on her toes and kissed his cheeks. “I’m so happy that you came.”
“I never miss your functions, Mom.” She grinned, looking radiant in her beige and gold sari.
“Hello, son!” His dad straightened Rohan’s red tie before patting his shoulder.
The two of them were dressed alike in black suits, white shirts, and ties. The only difference was that his dad wore a blue tie.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” his dad said. “I believe you’ve been working too hard lately.”
Which was true. Ever since he’d returned from Singapore, he’d immersed himself in his work, his stud farm, and his horses. He’d visited his parents at their home only once, that too for a short time, and then he’d caught up with them over dinner a few days later, but they hadn’t really spent a lot of time together. His mom, for certain, suspected that something had been brewing between Jiya and him. She hadn’t probed him the last times they’d met, but she’d ask questions sooner or later.
His dad looked into the distance before exchanging a glance with his wife. “You two catch up. I have someone I need to talk to.”
His mom linked her arm with Rohan’s and guided him to the displayed artworks. A waiter stopped in front of them with a tray of drinks. His mother lifted a champagne glass while Rohan chose a whiskey for himself. They continued down the carpeted aisles, checking out the art.
