Once Upon a Time
Vera
“ A re you going to do it or not?”
Vera jerked as if she’d been whipped. The words were carelessly spoken, and unexpected from the boy she was staring at. Throughout their childhood, they had taunted and teased one another—arguments and petty insults were nothing new—but hadn’t that changed in the past year? They meant so much more to each other now, didn’t they?
“Why are you being this way?” She tried to reel in the fear that was fast unravelling within her. Her heart twisted slowly, out of her control. A cruel hand was winding it like a toy, intending to break it, and that hand belonged to the boy she loved.
This had to be some kind of a prank. She would have to make it clear that she did not find such behaviour amusing.
“I don’t like this joke.”
He snorted, leaning back to place both palms beside him on his bed. The plush green comforter dipped and creased immediately under his weight. She focused her attention on the previously perfect surface, too afraid to raise her gaze and look into his eyes.
“What joke?” he asked, jeering at her. “You need money, I’m giving you a way to earn it. Nothing you haven’t already done before.”
Her hand shook, fingers curling into tight fists. She glared down at him, stomach roiling in unease.
“I’m not a whore.”
She hated the break in her voice as the pressure behind her eyes heightened.
His face twisted cruelly. “Certainly looked like it when you spread your legs for me.”
The slap that resounded through the room shocked Vera, her reaction—immediate and unplanned. Her palm stung with the force of the impact, and whatever little hope she’d had died.
He let out a single laugh, a bitter sound that she knew would haunt her for years to come. “I’m growing tired of your drama,” he said, his square jaw tight, the vein in his forehead popping clearly against tan skin. “Either get on your knees and use your mouth the way I taught you or get the fuck out of my house.”
Shame and revulsion welled in her at his command. Had she truly been that naive? Had she really put herself in a position where she could be treated like this?
“You told me you loved me.” She hated herself for saying it, because her rapidly breaking heart confirmed that her statement had been an entreaty rather than an accusation.
“I also called you a princess, but that doesn’t make you one, does it?”
“Why?” she gasped out, unable to comprehend his changed behaviour, foolishly hoping he would take everything back.
With a dead look that gutted her, he answered, “Because I don’t want you anymore. ”
Her eyelids scrunched shut, squeezing out the tears she’d held at bay thus far. He may not have physically struck her, but the impact of his words was no less painful. Her vision blurred as she spun around and stumbled away in far too much shock to say anything to defend herself.
The old Vera Talwar would have cut him down with a few words, but he’d found a way to weaken her, and she had let him. Disappointment at herself warred with an emotion for him that felt alien, nauseating her.
“Aww Princess, don’t cry. We had fun while it lasted. And now, you’ve learned a few new tricks in bed. Maybe you can get more than just a gold bangle from the next guy, hmm?”
Vera stopped just inside the threshold of his bedroom, his callous words scraping new wounds onto her tender, teenage heart. The hand which rested upon his doorframe tightened as she refused to allow herself that final backward glance. What would it achieve anyway? She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing how thoroughly he’d destroyed her. From deep within the vestiges of her broken strength, she hauled up the final pieces of her confidence, building a heavy armour she knew she could never again shed.
With loathing and pain powering her words, she spoke a truth that she felt from the very depths of her soul.
“I hate you, Vihaan Oberoi.”
And just like that, what was meant to be their beginning, became their end.