Chapter Eighteen

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Once again, London helped me breathe. The boys left to their rooms after the light dinner.

I poured myself and Hope, each, a glass of coke from the fridge and came back to the living room. Hope briefly looked up from her phone to smile at me and immediately went back to typing on her phone.

I checked my own phone for texts. Thankfully, Pranav hadn't bombed my phone with texts again. Of course, it has to do with the fact that I blocked him. I texted Arjun and my mom that we reached home. It was probably only past eleven back in India, but I was still surprised to find my phone ping immediately with a reply from Arjun.

Letting me know wasn't so hard, was it?

I could hear his teasing tone in his deep, masculine voice as I read the text. My lips involuntarily pushed into a pout. Why is he always teasing me?

It was dreadful.

No, it wasn't. I was positively afraid of what Arjun would do if I hadn't informed him of my arrival. I did learn Arjun has quite the temper. He looks hot when he's angry, but it's not a look I would want to see on him at my expense.

Like your separation from me?

You can confess your undying love for me now, Janaki.

With that name again. I frown at my phone, in half-mind to chuck my phone and forget about Mr-I-look-very-hot-when-I'm-angry.

Flirt.

You can go fuck yourself, Arjun.

I realised I probably shouldn't have told him to fuck himself after I had already sent the message. I am an idiot. I've always known and accepted the fact, but this is new levels of idiocy.

I'd much rather do you.

My mouth falls open at his crude reply. Isn't that supposed to be rude? I feel my ears heat up at the text. Fucking Arjun. No, no. No. That is not what I mean. Stupid-arse Arjun. Yes. Stupid-arse Arjun.

I close the app without replying to him and put my phone away. What in the world would I even say to him? I blame my tiredness from the long haul for my lack of comeback. I look at Hope, who puts her phone away and looks back at me.

"I'll leave now," she says in her thick British accent, "Get some rest, and I'll meet you at work tomorrow?"

"Sure." I lead her to the front door. "I'll swing by the office by evening tomorrow," I let her know.

She nods, "I'll get those Oyster Cards for you," she says.

Buying oyster cards is a pain in the arse. Standing in long queues is not exactly at the top of my to-do list, for when I visit London. Oyster Cards are used for transportation around the city; the trains and buses. The time saved during travel makes up for the time lost in standing in the long queues. I have a car, but I wanted the boys to get the public transport experience.

"Thank you," I smile.

She reaches over to hug me, wrapping me in her arms. "I'll see you tomorrow," she says.

I hug her back, thankful for the physical warmth. I pull back before she can become suspicious, but apparently even hugging her back for a second time is highly suspicious to Hope.

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