Page 63 of The Promise of a Traitor

“What’s going on?” Aastha whispered.

“Nothing.” Binita forced a smile. “Advik’s a little delayed.”

“Delayed?” Aastha frowned. “He was here, Ma. A few moments ago.”

Binita dabbed at Aastha’s forehead a little more forcefully now. “He appears to have left.”

“What?” Aastha started to rise, her heart drumming frantically now. Binita put a hand on her shoulder and pushed, forcing her back on to the chowki.

“Sit there,” Binita murmured, her voice strained but her lips still twisted into a tight smile. “Maya is checking on what’s going on.”

“Ma, this is ridiculous.” Aastha could see people’s heads turning towards the stage, conversations stopping as the pandit started to chant. She wanted to tell him to shut up. She was sitting up here alone for God’s sake! And Advik was…somewhere that was not here.

The room started to spin as her breath tightened in her chest, anxiety forming a chokehold in her throat, making it hard to form words. She fumbled for her phone and dialled Advik’s number. It rang before being sent to voicemail.

He wasn’t coming, she thought numbly. He was going to leave her sitting here alone in front of almost everyone they knew. He was going to leave her…like she’d left him. She dropped the phone into her lap and looked out at the sea of faces watching her.

And then she felt a brief disturbance at the double doors that led into the ballroom. She saw Kabir and Advik’s parents in the middle of a frantic, anxious conversation. For some reason, that sight calmed her down. Advik might do this to her but he’d never do this to his family. There had to be a reason, a genuine one, for his absence. There had to be!

But as the minutes ticked by and the looks on peoples face went from excited to curious to pitying, her conviction started to trickle away. The pandit had doused the havan and only a few smouldering embers were there as testimony to the fact that something momentous had been slated to happen and had fizzled out.

She got to her feet, shoving her mother’s restraining hand away. Enough, she thought. Enough. She started to get off the stage and then she saw him. Advik walked through those large double doors, shoving his arms into his suit jacket, his head down, listening to something Vikram was saying in his ear.

Relief coursed through her, making her legs shake. She reached for her mother’s hand and for once, Binita offered it in support. Aastha clutched at her fingers, her own sweaty ones making it hard to grasp.

“He’s here,” Binita said grimly. “Sit down.”

But Aastha didn’t sit. She watched Advik stride towards the stage, his head still on the ground beneath his feet. He wasn’t looking at her, she thought frantically. Why wasn’t he looking at her? Every time Advik entered a room, he looked for her and then he looked at her. Why wasn’t he doing that now?

Vikram grabbed Advik by the back of his neck and slowed his furious stride. He whispered something in his ear, one arm wrapped around his brother part embrace, part support. Over his shoulder, Advik finally looked up, his gaze lasering into Aastha’s.

And her heart gave out.

In those dark, intense eyes she saw everything she’d thought they’d finally laid to rest. Anger, hurt, betrayal and pain…so much pain. The agonised fury in his eyes almost brought her to her knees. What had happened? And what was going to happen now? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.

Before she could figure out what she wanted to do next, he’d reached the stage and was now walking over to where she stood. He took her hand, pulling it out of Binita’s limp grasp and led her back to the now empty chowkis. The confused pandit looked at them, clearly sensing the vibes and not knowing how to proceed.

Advik sat, yanking on Aastha’s hand hard enough for her to stumble on to the chowki beside him and sit down.

“Begin,” he said to the pandit and the man nervously lit the havan again, stoking the flames so they rose higher and higher.

Aastha snuck a glance at Advik’s granite hard profile but he didn’t bother to look her way. He still had her hand in an iron grasp, his fingers anchoring her in place. The pandit finished chanting his prayers nervously, and then asked the two of them to repeat some shlokas with him. Once that was over, he tied a sacred thread on both of their wrists and blessed them. Feeling like he’d done his duty, he got up, adjusted his veshti and disappeared into the crowd.

Advik rose to his feet, pulling Aastha along in his wake. Before she could blink, her mother appeared at her side, a small jewellery box in her hand. Binita opened it to reveal a simple, gold band.

Maya came up on stage too, Yash by her side. She handed Advik a box which he opened and pulled out an eternity diamond ring from. Aastha blinked. This time, it’s forever, they’d sworn to each other, a short time ago. An eternity ring was the perfect symbol of that.

And yet, Aastha’s gaze searched his for a sign, any sign that told her what he was thinking. But beyond the waves of rage that emanated from him, she couldn’t figure anything else out.

Her mother nudged her, and then forcibly took her hand, holding it out to Advik who slid the ring on to her ring finger. It fit perfectly.

She blinked back sudden tears and took the gold band her mother held out to her. She slipped it on to Advik’s cold finger, his hand resting in hers for a bare second before he snatched it back.

And then they were engaged. The room erupted in cheers and whistles and calls for a kiss. Advik took a deep breath like he was bracing himself and turned to her, bending to kiss her forehead. Aastha gripped the front of his shirt, holding him in place before he could let go of her like she was radioactive.

“What’s happened?” she whispered, turning her face into his so no one could hear their conversation.

Advik stiffened and tried to pull out of her grasp but she tightened her grip.