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“Lay off the carbs for the next few months, honey,” she said firmly, grabbing a cherry Danish out of my hand.
I was glad I’d eaten the pizza and tiramisu last night because I’d have to subsist on water and lettuce until fashion week season was over. Dheer looked furious at the way she spoke about my weight, but I sent him a look that begged him to stay out of it, and thankfully, he did.
We sped through hair and makeup and headed to Mancini’s office at eleven.
The next couple of hours were extremely boring because I was nothing more than a prop to the photographer, while the clothes were the stars of the show. I kept my mouth shut while Valentino’s team and Mancini’s team discussed the job. Finally, I was called in to meet the great man, and we discussed a shoot schedule that would work for both of us.
I was exhausted when we got back to the hotel that evening. We were flying back home the next morning, and all I wanted to do was get in bed and veg out until I fell asleep. But Dheer had other plans. He had ordered me a deep tissue massage which left me limp as a noodle.
When I got out of the bathroom after a leisurely soak, I found a small dining table set up on our balcony for a candlelight dinner.
“What’s all this?” I asked, as I wrapped my fluffy dressing gown around myself tightly and slipped my feet into fluffy slippers with bunny ears.
“Round two of Maharaja vs Pizza,” he replied, flexing his muscles.
“You’re lucky I’ve been banned from eating carbs,” I replied with a snort.
“I hope you don’t plan to listen to that foolish woman, Diya. You’re perfect as you are.”
“That ‘foolish woman’ is the reason international designers are signing me, Dheer. And there’s a lot of money riding on my waistline. I can’t afford to let go and pig out on pizza so close to the fashion weeks. But I’ll eat it one last time, and be very strict from tomorrow,” I said, relenting at the sight of his pout. “You’re darn lucky you’re so cute. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to kick you in the shins for messing with my diet.”
We had a leisurely dinner while we admired the whole of Milan spread out before us from our balcony. And then, we retired to the bedroom for round two of Maharaja vs Pizza. The Maharaja won hands down, but I’d die before I told him that. He was already too cocky.
When we went to bed, the piazza in front of our hotel was still alive with tourists. A busker was playing a very romantic tune on the violin on the street, and the sweet strains wafted up into our bedroom. I wondered if this was what heaven felt like. Lying in bed, with a belly full of pizza and wine, beautiful music echoing in your ears while you slept in the arms of the man you loved. For, against my better judgment, I had to admit that I was head over heels in love with Dheer. Even more so than I had been nine years ago.
I smiled slowly at the realisation and turned to kiss him softly as he slept next to me. I was woken by the ringing of his phone. Dheer was still fast asleep. I wondered who would be calling us so late. But I ignored the ringing and went back to sleep. Or tried to. Because whoever it was, they called back again.
I decided to answer the call because it might be important. Dheer’s arm was wound tightly around me, and it took me a few seconds before I could get out from under it without waking him up. I stumbled out of bed and grabbed his phone, and that’s when my blood ran cold.
I rubbed my eyes and peered at the screen owlishly. Was this a dream? More likely, it was a nightmare. Why else would Raksha be calling Dheer? I slapped my face gently until I was wide awake, and then I checked the screen again. Yup. It said three missed calls from Raksha. And then a text flashed across the screen. It said, ‘ I need to see you.’
The phone slipped from my hand and I grabbed it before it could fall to the floor. I set it back on the table with shaking hands and got back into bed. But this time, instead of curling into Dheer’s body, I curled up in the farthest corner of the bed and huddled under the covers as I stared at his face. His lying, cheating face.
Because the bastard had just proved that once a cheater, always a cheater.
I tried telling myself not to jump to conclusions, but what other conclusion could I draw? In what universe was there a reasonable explanation for Raksha to call Dheer? From her text, it seemed like they were still in touch. How was that possible? And why?
I was awake for the rest of the night, just staring at the ceiling until my eyes burned and got blurry. I couldn’t cry. Not now. I wasn’t even angry. I was just… confused. I knew there had to be a sensible explanation for this. If only Dheer would wake up and explain it all away. But the lazy bastard was still asleep. How could he sleep when my world was falling apart?
At one point, I wanted to wake him up and demand an explanation. He wouldn’t even have time to think of a lie when I woke him out of deep sleep. But I didn’t want it that way. I wanted Dheer to tell me of his own accord why his ex-fiancée was calling him in the middle of the night.
He finally woke up around eight and turned over to kiss me. But I wasn’t next to him. I was all the way across the room, sitting at the small dining table with a cup of strong black coffee in my hand. I was fully dressed and ready to leave.
“You’re up early,” he said in the sleep-roughened voice that sent delicious shudders down my body.
“Uh-huh,” I replied, taking a sip of coffee. “We’re supposed to be at the airport in forty minutes.”
Dheer jumped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom because he knew that if we didn’t take off on time, we’d lose our slot since the small private airport was quite crowded this time of the year.
He came out fully dressed, grabbed a croissant from the breakfast that I’d ordered, and munched as he checked his phone. I saw him tense as he scrolled, and waited for him to bring her up. But he turned to me and flashed me a wide grin. Strange, there wasn’t even a cloud of betrayal in his eyes. They were as warm and loving as ever.
“Are you ready, babe?” he asked. “I have a meeting soon after we land back home.”
I bet he did, I thought viciously, wanting to fling my hot coffee in his face. Instead, I pulled up every ounce of dignity I had and followed him out of the room silently.
So this was how it ended, I mused as I sank into my seat on the plane. With a stray missed call. It was almost like a glitch in the matrix. I wanted to rage at Dheer and ask him why he was breaking my heart all over again. Was it because of me? Was something lacking in me that I couldn’t keep him happy? Was there some fatal attraction about Raksha that he couldn’t stay away from her? Or was it him? Was he the kind of person whose masculinity felt validated only when he was dangling a side chick alongside his main piece? And in that case, which one was I - the main piece or side chick?
So many questions, but my throat closed up before I could ask even one.
