The Wrong Woman

3. Dhruv

I tipped back another shot, letting the liquid burn my throat. I tried not to gag as Anish placed more shot glasses in front of me.

I eyed them before looking at him. "I can't drink those."

"You can't or you won't?"

"Both."

"Oh come on. It's a good day today! Let loose."

Ignoring him, my gaze gravitated toward the woman over his shoulder, dancing in the middle of the club floor like she owned the place. Her body was languid as she moved against the beat of the roaring music with her eyes closed.

"How're things going with her?" Anish asked, leaning against the bar like me.

I shrugged. "Same as usual." I sighed. "I want to fix this, but I can't do it if she isn't on board."

"You got that right. I mean, just look at me and Sandra for example." I glanced at his fiancé, dancing next to Rani. The two were practically twins; tall, willowy and commanding. "If she says no to something, it's a no. It's not happening."

"My situation is a little different than yours."

"That's true...you two were so in love. What happened?"

I didn't know either. We had gone from being crazy in love—completely in the honeymoon phase—for two years since we'd met and gotten married, to utter strangers. What had happened? Rani fanned her face with a hand as she headed over to the bar, deliberately standing away from me.

The neon lights shone off her sparkly white dress so snug on her body, people would mistake it for second skin. Her body still swayed to the music as she ordered glass after glass, and I narrowed my eyes. There was no way she was sober after that fourth drink.

"I'm not like you, dork," she'd used to say to me. "I can handle my alcohol." And for the most part she was right. Seeing her stumble around after her sixth drink, nearly bumping into a couple and then a group was all I needed to get a mini heart attack.

Anish was still talking, but before I could stop myself, I was right beside Rani as she stumbled. I wrapped my arm around her waist. "Careful," I said softly, straightening her up.

"Oops!" she slurred before chuckling. She tilted her head back, tufts of golden honey strands brushing against my arm. The chuckle faded. "Oh, it's you."

Disappointment. That was the term that could be used to describe her voice in that moment. "You need to make sure you don't put a target on your back by impaling people."

"Are you implying that I'm the reason guys are gonna come onto me?"

"I'm implying you're going to cut someones toes off with those heels."

She shoved at my chest and I loosened my grasp on her. "Whatever. I can look after myself."

"I know. I just want you to be careful."

A group of people surged past us, brushing us off to the side so they could get to the other side of the club. All of a sudden, Rani gasped. "What the fuck?!" she exclaimed. I furrowed my eyebrows as she circled on her thin ankle heels and grabbed the sleeve of a tall, thin man with a thick beard. "Did you just touch me?"

People were starting to stare despite the blaring music. "Nothing to see here," I said to a couple who came toward me asking if we needed help. I tapped Rani's shoulder. "I'll call the police and let them know what he did. Let's go home."

She slapped my hand away, pointing a sharp angled nail at the man who stared at her, unblinking. "I dare you to touch my ass again."

"Rani—"