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“You don’t get it, do you?” He turned to face her. “None of you do. I don’t want to be coddled, cosseted, cared for. I want to be left alone to find my way. And my way isn’t your way, Akka. And it never will be.”
“Does your way lead to Raashi?” she asked, perceptively, hearing things he wasn’t saying.
Harsh leaned back against the headrest, his eyes shutting in defeat. “I thought it did. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“You have feelings for her,” Priyanka said quietly, a wealth of worry in her voice, the words a statement, not a question.
Harsh didn’t answer. A response wasn’t necessary. His silence was damning enough.
“Have dinner with me, Harsh. You may not want company, but family isn’t always company. Sometimes, family is the therapy you need.”
“I need therapy because of my family,” he muttered.
“True,” Priyanka acknowledged. “But this time, just for tonight, give me the chance to be there for you. As opposed to, just being there with you.”
He rolled his head to the side, looking at her. “I pick the cuisine.”
Priyanka grimaced. “Just don’t say-“
“Sushi,” he finished for her, giving her a triumphant grin. “I want sushi.”
Her answering groan made him laugh, his first laugh of the day. Feeling lighter already, he signaled to the driver to get in and start driving. He knew just the place to ensure Priyanka suffered sufficiently for traumatising him with her sisterly love and concern.
Thirty-Six
RAASHI
Raashi walked into the restaurant, her gaze scanning the crowded tables until she saw him. Her hand tightened on the strap of her purse, lips thinning as she wondered if she should just turn around and walk back to her car. She should…she really should. This was a really bad idea. The best thing to do would be to leave immediately.
So, of course, she didn’t leave.
Raashi made her winding way through the tables until she reached the corner table he was seated at.
Anant glanced up at her and smiled, getting to his feet like the gentleman he pretended to be.
“Thank you for joining me.” The warm, genial vibe sent a pang through her, memories of happier times sliding through her rebellious brain. “I tried to get the private table, but it was already reserved for someone.”
Raashi’s gaze went briefly to the partition behind him that gave the private table folks some semblance of privacy. That was a beautiful wallpaper on it, she thought dispassionately, her eyes tracing the tropical print with the birds and vines.
“You look tired Raashi,” he said gently, leaning forward, concern lining his every move.
“What do you want?” she asked abruptly, leaning away from him. “Why did you insist I join you for dinner tonight?”
His lips pressed together, a thin line of disappointment and reproach. “There’s no need to behave badly, Raashi.”
Raashi laughed, a loud, abrasive sound. “I haven’t even begun to behave badly, Anant. Keep talking to me like I’m a toddler throwing a tantrum and I’ll show you exactly what bad behaviour looks like.”
He stared at her, his fist crumpling the napkin on his lap. She watched it carefully, well aware that it was a sign that his control over his carefully curated public image was crumbling. He took a deep breath and looked around them at the chattering, laughing crowd. It was almost like he was reminding himself why he couldn’t lose control here.
So many people, so many witnesses. A bitter smile touched her lips as she watched him carefully calibrate his options.
The server came over to take their orders. Anant ordered for them, not bothering to ask her for her preference. Somethings never changed. Then again, maybe something had. Where Raashi would have found him commanding and worldly wise earlier, now all she saw was a domineering bully.
“Would madam like something to drink?” The waiter smiled over at her, clearly feeling sorry for her.
“No,” Anant answered on her behalf. “Just water. Madam does not do well with alcohol.”
“We have some lovely mocktails,” the waiter persisted.
