The Wrong Woman

70. Dhruv

A/N: Again, incredibly short! BUT we're nearing the end :(

***

The words I hoped I wouldn't hear, were the ones I ended up hearing in the end.

It was hard to explain how that felt. At first, it didn't register. I sat there like a statue, staring at her. It had to be a joke, right? I couldn't even force myself to laugh, my facial muscles being glued in one state.

Then, when she looked back at me, searching my face, I realised that the deed had been done. She'd said it. She didn't like me back. And that...that realisation only worsened the shattering of something deep inside my chest, reverberating through my bones and my veins.

I blinked. Once. Then twice. I somehow managed to smile through clenched teeth. "I guess so." But it then vanished. I couldn't keep it up. My cheeks were hurting. My heart was hurting. "Do you mean it?" I curled my hands into fists and kept them secure between my legs under the table, distracting myself from the pain inside of me with the pain of my nails digging into the skin of my palms.

As the first few words left me, my tongue didn't stop there. "Did the moments we shared mean nothing to you? You didn't feel anything?" I could feel my voice rising, the sharp looks from the other customers around us.

Mouna shifted in her chair, eyes widening. But then, unlike my expectation, instead of shying away, she raised her chin. "Should they have? Don't you have a wife to be with?"

That was it. I choked on my next words and studied her, sitting there so calm. So I had imagined everything then. Every touch and gaze that sent jolts of electricity through me. It was all one sided.

I'd finally gotten my answer.

And unfortunately for my heart, it wasn't a happy one. "I'm sorry," I said firmly, getting up from the chair. "I guess I misunderstood."

I left and didn't turn back.