35. Ishaan
THIRTY-FIVE
Ishaan
The pain was a constant, an ache that lived under his skin, seeped into his bones and slowly ravaged his soul.
How could it hurt this badly? How could a week without her feel like a month? He knew Dhrithi had gone to see her the next day but she wouldn’t tell him anything about their catch up. The little turncoat had jumped sides without even blinking.
“Dinner is ready.” Dhrithi called out from the kitchen. “Amay made spaghetti carbonara.”
“I’m not hungry,” Ishaan muttered, his stomach revolting at the thought of food. His body had decided to starve itself as punishment for his sins and Ishaan was all for the plan.
“Yes, you are.” She appeared in front of him, her face set. She had a ladle in one hand that she poked him in the leg with. “You’re going to eat it.” Poke. “And enjoy it.” Poke. “And tell him how amazing it is.” Poke. Poke. Poke.
“Stop it,” he said irritably.
“I won’t stop it, you sad sack. Either make an effort to move on or go get your girl.” Poke.
He grabbed the ladle and yanked it away from her. “She’s not my girl,” he gritted out, each word feeling like a blade slicing through his skin.
“No, she’s not,” Dhrithi agreed making his temper flare. “Not anymore.”
“She never was,” he said curtly. “And I don’t want spaghetti.” He got to his feet, tossed the ladle aside and stormed off towards the door.
“She was…she most certainly was until you acted like a dick and broke her heart.”
“Goody.” He stopped by the door, eyes squeezed shut, and tried to breathe past the pain. “Don’t. Please don’t. I know I fucked up. Can we just let it be?”
“And that’s it?” she asked, walking over to yank on his arm and turn him around, forcing him to face her. “Just let it be?”
“Yes,” he said harshly. “What is it you want me to do? Grovel? Beg for forgiveness? Fall to my knees in front of her?”
“Yes, yes and yes!” Dhrithi shoved him, her palm to his chest. “What is wrong with you?”
“Everything.” The stark truth lay between them. “She deserves better, okay?”
“Sure she does.” Again with the easy agreement. “But she wants you, you idiot.”
“What’s going on here? Why are the two of you shouting?” Amay’s cautious voice had them both glancing towards the door. Virat stood behind him, eyebrows raised, taking in the sight of Dhrithi and Ishaan squaring off.
“Your friend is an idiot.” Dhrithi told Amay moving to where he stood. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her close.
“We know,” he said, not bothering to refute it for a moment. “But we love him anyway.”
“Gee thanks!” Ishaan snapped. “For the charity wrapped in the name of friendship.”
He shouldered past Virat, bypassed the lift and headed for the stairs. He heard his friends calling his name but he really wasn’t in the mood right now. There was only one person whose voice he wanted to hear and he was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. She’d rather see him dipped in acid than come by to help him feel better.
He took the stairs two at a time until he made it to his floor. He had his head down, laptop tucked under his arm, and his brain going a mile a minute and that’s why he didn’t see her until the last moment.
“Ishaan.”
His mother’s faltering voice had him coming to a grinding halt. Could this day get any worse?
“Mom.” He stared at her. “What are you doing here?”
She stared at him sadly. “We need to talk.”
“Do you need more money? You could have just sent me a message. I would have transferred it.”
He didn’t think it was possible but her eyes got even sadder. “I don’t need more money. You’ve sent us more than enough.”
“Then why are you here?” he asked her bluntly.
“You won’t come to us so I had to come to you.” Her eyes filled with tears but she blinked them back. “Can we please talk inside?”
He unlocked the door in silence, leading her in. He stood to one side watching her take in the luxurious space.
“Is he dying?” he asked, the words dropping into the silent space like rocks through glass.
His mother flinched. “No,” she said quietly. “Your father isn’t dying. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Ishaan met her gaze levelly. He wouldn’t let her shame him. She’d always protected his father, even at their worst, she’d been the loyal wife. She’d just forgotten to be the same type of mother for her children. She might not have caused their problems but she’d sure as hell enabled his father into his downward spiral.
“I’m sorry,” she said now. “For how things played out in the past, Ishaan. But it is the past. You have to let it go.”
“If you had to do it over, again, would you make the same choices?”
She hesitated. He saw it, the flicker of shame in her eyes, but to her credit, she chose the truth.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re not sorry.” He stepped to one side to put his laptop on the console table. “And it’s not the past.”
“He’s my husband.”
“And I was your child.” He stared at her, the woman who’d given birth to him. “The first time those boys at school stuck my head in a toilet, I called you. I begged you to bring me home. You told me to grow up and be a man.”
His mother flushed, averting her eyes from his. “We needed you to get that education. You were the only one smart enough to get the scholarship. The others were in a government school, Ishaan! What would we have done if you had come home?”
His lips twisted, in a bitter smile. “You abandoned me to that hell. You sacrificed me for the hope of a better future. And now, you want what from me? To come home and play happy families?”
“I want you to remember that we are your family. We-“
“No, you’re not. Amay and Virat are my family. You wanted me to provide for your future. I’ve done that in spades. I suggest you abandon any other expectations from me.”
“And your siblings? Karun and Myra? What did they do to you, Ishaan?”
“They haven’t reached out to me once, Mom. If they wanted to, they would have. They know where to find me. Just like you did.”
She fell silent, her hands twisting together. “But Ishaan-“
“This isn’t about anyone else, is it?” he asked perceptively. “You’re here to pander to your guilty conscience.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Too little, too late.” He shook his head. “Apologies don’t make things right. The choices you make, those are the ones you have to live with. The choices and their consequences. You made your choice. It worked out exactly the way you hoped. Leave me to live with mine. I’d like you to go. Please.”
He stepped aside as his mother made her slow way to the door. She stopped beside him.
“The thing is Ishaan, it’s also about the other person caring enough to forgive someone. I hope one day you’ll be able to. I’ll wait for as long as it takes for that day to come.”
She walked out of his home, closing the door behind her, leaving him to the silence of his life, the one he’d chosen.
“It’s also about the other person caring enough to forgive someone.”
Ishaan would also wait forever for Mayukhi to forgive him but he knew, better than anyone, that that day wouldn’t come. If he couldn’t forgive the people who brought him into this world, would she forgive the man who’d so recklessly played with her life for his own gains?
His phone rang and he saw the number of his financial advisor. He answered immediately. He’d been waiting for this.
“It’s done, Ishaan. All the shares in that company have been transferred back to Mr. Chatterjee.”
“Thank you, Rathore.”
“You should have sold it to him. I don’t understand why you’d lose all that money by transferring it to him like this.”
“You don’t have to understand,” he said curtly. “Thank you for this.”
He disconnected and took a deep breath, the band of shame around his heart loosening a little. It was something, he thought, giving her father his company back.
Too little, too late.
His words to his mother played in his mind. He was their son, after all. Making all the wrong choices out of selfishness, not caring to see what it was doing to the other person.
His phone dinged again and he glanced at it. It was Ashish.
Thank you again, my friend, for what you did that night. Naveen is better and back home, recovering nicely.
Ishaan ignored the message. He’d check with Virat when he was in a calmer frame of mind and reply with some carefully thought out response. But before he could put the phone aside, the display lit up with a second message.
We’d like you to join us for a boy’s night at Naveen’s place in Alibaug. Two days from now. I’ll text you the details.
And there it was. What they’d been hoping for…Ishaan’s heart raced as he stared at his phone. He should be running down to Amay’s place to tell the others the good news. Instead all he wanted to do was call Mayukhi, to tell her that they’d done it. They’d done what they’d started out to do. But he couldn’t. As much as it killed him, he couldn’t call her. She deserved better and he needed to remember that.
He took a deep breath and pocketed his phone, turning around and walking out his front door to go find his friends and give them the good news. The first break in what he hoped would be the downfall of the Dusty Devils.
And then, maybe then, he’d allow himself to meet Mayukhi’s eyes again, even if it was only to see them blaze with victory. Their victory. One that was won on the ashes of their happiness.