The Wrong Woman

59. Dhruv

A/N: for the two people that wanted an extra chapter today :p you know who you are! Enjoy a filler short chapter hehe ❤️

***

There was a limit to the things you could say to someone. One of those was 'I've swapped bodies with someone'. There was nothing that could justify that excuse. Nothing that was believable, anyway.

Seeing the way her face crumpled the moment I pushed past her to walk into the house, there was a twinge that caught at me. Like she actually believed every word that fell out of her mouth. It was crazy. It was insane, even.

But she caved in like I refused to believe the one and only truth in the universe and she was the only one that knew about it.

It was all an excuse. She never wanted to fix things with me. It was all a game to her. Why else would she retreat in the last second only to claim that she's not the right woman and had switched bodies? If that didn't sound like an excuse, I clearly didn't know what excuses were.

Regardless of whatever crap she was saying, there was a sharp pain in my chest that distracted me from the pain in my palms from my fingernails digging into it. I wanted to...to leave. If I never saw Rani again then good riddance. Then why was I still there, standing in the middle of the living room, not knowing what to do?

My jaw clenched.

My fists tightened.

My throat pained and my breathing intensified. If I didn't go into a room where there was no Rani, I would lose it. Cookie's nails tapped against the wooden floors as he followed me up the stairs, but my mind wouldn't stop going back to her words.

I didn't want to believe it. Because if I did - if something like that were true which it sure as hell wasn't - then that would mean the woman I was living with, sharing moments with wasn't Rani.

It was—

No. That was insane. Even entertaining the idea was insane.

Shaking my head, I strode through to the room that used to be 'ours' and went to the closet drawer. Opening the very last one, I grabbed the papers that had been laying there for a long time.

It was finally seeing the light of day.

I didn't want to wait until the rage that shook my body into artlessly snatching a pen subsided. That meant contemplating the situation. That would give me time to think rationally. But what part of this whole thing was rational? I scribbled my name under one of the empty spaces and walked down the stairs to chuck the paper and the pen onto the coffee table. A loud clink of the metal framed pen hitting the glass resounded in the air.

Whenever she saw it, she could sign it. I didn't care when, I just wanted it signed. A part of me hesitated in moving away because none of it made sense.

Not the bizarre, wishy-washy explanation I got.

But that old man that claimed the same thing she did minutes before she arrived and then disappeared.

The main thing though was how sincere every interaction with her felt. Every smile, every word of hers, everything that we exchanged...it didn't seem forced. Or was I that stupid that I was blinded by my own hopes to not see that? And the weird way she acted and behaved that made me doubt if her hitting her head had changed her personality...

Why was I thinking about that? The night of the blood moon, the wishes—it was all a story. I didn't know why I stood there, waiting, wanting to find out the real truth. All I did know was that there were a lot of things even I couldn't explain that I had brushed off. I figured it had something to do with her head injury.

Wait a second.

I froze as I realised something.

Her head injury had never showed up on a scan.