/BOOK 2 - PROPOSAL SERIES/
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Starting fresh, starting new is never easy. Not when you leave a major part of yourself back and locked in chains of the past.
Mahira comes to Mumbai - unplanned, unguided. She strives to make a life here with more wo...
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It kept ringing and ringing and ringing.
The computerized voice told him that no one was there on another side to pick up his call. Sliding on the screen he tried connecting it again. Each time the call hasn't received a frame met the floors, crashing and scattering in millions of pieces. Once the wall was empty he attacked his desk, the glass paperweight was smashed followed by his pen stand then with the hundreds of his papers, his laptop was already discarded at the side, and next was his filling cabinet which he pushed down making a dump of mess in his cabin.
His jacket was left somewhere and his shirt was creased, nowhere near the prim and proper dressing he carried. His hair stuck out at different angles, Eyes were soaked with blood and tears. His knuckles met the wall in force making him groan in pain and grunt in the lame attempt of expressing the rage he felt increasing in him every second.
Was it rage alone that he felt?
He looked around, eyes meeting the sight of the root of all of this. A picture of the girl and woman he was trying to hate but then it felt misplaced every time he went back to the details of their suffering.
What was their fault that the man Astha Verma loved was two-timing her, married, and cheating?
He felt bile rising to his throat as he thought back to the lives destroyed by a man and his mistakes took a toll on him. He kept blaming her, the woman who gave birth to him to break his family but in reality, it was his father.
Her husband gave her the pain of infidelity.
He felt his eyes blurring the scenes, burning with the pain his heart suffered. He yearned for the happiness of the man when it was he who himself lit fire to his home. Raghav Malik burned his family, scared his children, pushed the woman who loved him to death, and left a child to vouch for herself.
Raghav Malik was the heartless prick who should be blamed for destroying so many lives, instead, Rajveer put the blame on his mother who left him. Why won't she? RV looked the same as his father, his hair, and his features all were Raghav Malik except his eyes. Which woman would want to see a reminder of a cheating husband on her child's face?
Now that he was facing the past, he felt the hatred being replaced by blankness.
"Hello? Rajveer?"
The voice resounded in the empty space, much louder in his brain as he felt numbing all over him.
"Raj are you there? What happened son?"
A deep, throaty mirthless chuckle left him laced with anger, disgust, betrayal, and shame.
"Son" came the confused voice.
His chuckles turned into laughter, eyes leaking a tear and he smashed another of his showpiece into the wall. The crash resounding whole of the floor.
