Page 53 of Broken Destiny

“Didn’t your mom tell you?” I said before I could stop myself.

My gaze shifted to Jiya, and I saw her cringe slightly.

“I had a meeting here, and I’ve been in town for a couple of days.”

“You’ve met him already?” Lucas turned towards her, his eyebrows squished together. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

She opened her mouth to explain, and closed it. Her chin dipped to her chest, averting his gaze.

“I’d like to go and hang out with my friends now,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

I winced inwardly.

I hadn’t meant to create tension between them. I hadn’t meant to put her in that position in front of her son. I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have asked her first before revealing anything.Instead, I had acted on impulse, letting my frustration speak before my judgment had a chance to catch up.

I wanted to hurt her.

Not him.

Jiya knelt in front of Lucas, trying to reason with him, but he wouldn’t listen.

I could see the tension in his small frame, the stubborn set of his jaw, the hurt flashing in his eyes. No amount of talking was going to fix this. She seemed to realize that, too, as her shoulders sagged.

“Geeta, will you take Lucas and Emma and find his friends? Keep your phone on. I’ll call you.”

Geeta nodded and led the children away, guiding them through the crowd.

Once they were out of earshot, Jiya turned to me. Her face was flushed, her breathing uneven, and her nostrils were flared. “Why did you have to do that?” she demanded. “You didn’t have to tell him that you had been here for a couple of days or that we met at the office.”

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t tell him?” I shot back. “You should have been better prepared.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to come to a fair for your bachelor party.”

“You were the one who told us about it, so here I am,” I bit out. “Deal with it.”

“Guys… guys… relax,” Greg stepped in, raising his hands. “No one is at fault here. Just breathe and calm down.”

I barely heard him.

All my attention remained fixed on Jiya. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and I could see the effort it took for her to keep herself composed with her jaw clenched.

“I’ll see you later, Greg,” she said abruptly.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away.

I watched her marching with her back straight and steps firm, telling myself it didn’t matter, that she was just another face in the crowd.

But the lie fell apart the moment she disappeared from view.

Greg nudged my shoulder. “Let’s go on a ride or something, man.”

He was trying to distract me, to pull my attention away from her, but it didn’t work. I shouldn’t care about how she felt or what she thought. She didn’t mean anything to me anymore. That was the truth I kept repeating in my head. So I followed Greg, and we went to stand in the bumper car line.

The music blared around us, lights flashing in every direction.

For a few minutes, I let myself get caught up in the chaos of the ride, bumping into Greg and the other drivers, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the noise and movement instead of the thoughts circling inside my head.

After enjoying the ride, Greg stepped out of the car beside me and stretched his arms.