Chapter 30
Thirty
Harsh
The phone rang just as he was looping the tie around his neck. He grabbed for it and checked the display. Nanda Garu. His heart started to race as he stared at the display. Was this finally the news he’d been waiting to hear or just another polite, courtesy call? He wasn’t going to let his hopes get too high.
“Good evening, Sir.” He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, while swiftly knotting his tie.
“I asked you to show some stability and you decided to get married in reply?” The older man’s amusement was obvious in his voice.
“I am nothing if not committed to over delivering.”
The low laugh that came through the phone had him grinning as he checked himself out in the reflection. The custom made Brioni suit was sheer perfection in fabric. It worked. All of it.
Except for the bride and him. That clearly didn’t work. Hurt’s jagged edges sliced through him. Why did he care what she thought of him? Was it because his opinion of her had changed so he’d hoped the same was true of her?
“I’ll see you tonight, Sir?” he asked the producer, shoving thoughts of Raashi from his mind.
“Yes. I’m looking forward to it. A joint event by the Kodela and Gadde families. It’s going to be legendary.” Another dry chuckle.
His cocktail party, two nights before his wedding, and all it was to people was a joint event by the Kodelas and the Gaddes. His wedding wasn’t even about him.
“Wonderful Sir. I look forward to seeing you there.”
“Of course. And we’ll raise a toast together.”
“We must.” Harsh turned away from his reflection, unwilling to stare into his flat, dead eyes anymore. “It’s not every day one gets married.”
“It’s certainly not every day that Harsh Kodela gets married.”
Another snicker from the other man. Harsh was starting to get a little tired of it, this constant amusement at his expense.
“True Sir,” was all he said. He couldn’t afford to piss off the man who held his future by its balls.
“Yes, we’ll toast your bride and your wedding and the hero of my upcoming film.”
Harsh stilled, a fierce exultation sparking in his soul. “Sir?” Did that mean what he thought it did?
“Congratulations Kodela. You’ve became a superstar on your own merit but, now, I’m going to make you a God.”
Harsh whooped, the sound loud and bright in the quiet room. “Thank you, Sir. I won’t disappoint you.”
“See that you don’t, and I’ll see that you reach heights no one can ever bring you down from.”
Harsh bid the other man goodbye and hung up, his heart racing, excitement coursing through his body. He needed to tell someone the good news.
Raashi. He wanted to tell Raashi.
He had no idea why her name was the first one to come to his mind, but it was. He had an overwhelming urge to speak to her, to tell her that it had all been worth it. This whole mess of an engagement, their fake marriage, the whole shitty roller coaster they’d been on…it had all been worth it.
His heart stilled as his mind caught up to the moment. It was worth it, but he had a horrible feeling it had nothing to do with him getting the role. And everything to do with her.
Someone banged on his bedroom door. Harsh ignored it, watching himself in the reflection. He looked like himself, but he definitely didn’t feel like himself. On the inside everything had changed. She’d changed him.
Restless now, he stepped back from the mirror. He didn’t do deep. He didn’t do emotions. He didn’t do feelings. He couldn’t afford to. That way lay nothing but pain and hurt. But it looked like he’d already given Raashi the power to hurt him or why would her thoughtless words from their previous encounter bother him so much? He couldn’t allow that to happen. He needed to take that power back.
He needed to be the Harsh she thought him to be.
The banging on his door started again. Harsh forced a smile to his face and walked over to the door, yanking it open. A regular mob stood on the other side of it.
“How many people does it take to get a Kodela to a party?” Virat asked, grinning.
“If it’s me, none. If it’s him.” Harsh jabbed a thumb at Agastya. “You’d need Arjuna’s army.”
Aarush laughed. “Let’s go man. It’s your night.”
“So, all of you decided to come and get me?” He glared at the crowd in the corridor outside his room. Agastya, Veda, Virat, Aarush and Priyanka grinned back at him, all dressed to kill. “I would have made it to the venue on my own.”
“We had to make sure you wouldn’t run,” Aarush replied, slinging an arm over his shoulders.
“I think you’re confusing me with yourself,” Harsh answered drily, ducking the punch Aarush threw at him in reply. He was still chuckling when they made it to the ground floor of his house. Then he saw his parents waiting for him in the drawing room, right under the dick shaped chandelier which was their father’s pride and joy, and he stopped smiling.
Taking a deep breath, he shot his cuffs and walked over to where they stood. No amount of rebellion or hurt at their attitude towards him had managed to cut off the love he felt for them and so, he bent at the waist and touched their feet. He shut his eyes as he felt their hands press briefly on his head.
Family. They fucked you up as much as they healed you. But whatever you might feel for them, and Harsh’s feelings were complicated when it came to the older generation, they were family. And family was the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, and the very foundation you planted your feet on.
With that in mind, he straightened and stepped away from them, the hand that had touched their feet now pressed to his chest, right above his rebellious heart.
His father frowned, his beetle brows furrowed. “Don’t embarrass us tonight.”
“I’ll do my best,” Harsh grinned, the same, irreverent grin he’d perfected in his teens.
His father snorted and walked past him towards the front door. His mother followed the patriarch of their family but paused for a second to say, “Don’t drink too much.”
“I’ll do my best,” Harsh said again.
Her eyes softened as she reached up to smoothen his artistically tousled hair. “Vedhava. Of all the scrapes you’ve gotten yourself into, this one is the worst. But we’ll make the best of it, okay?”
He nodded, his throat clogging with emotion. Make the best of it. Or maybe, it would best him.
With a last pat that completely ruined his hairstyle, she walked out with his father, their bodyguards falling in line behind them.
The rest of the group followed them but Harsh put a hand out and held Agastya back. Startled, Agastya stopped. When Veda turned to look at him, he gestured to her to go ahead. Her gaze darted between the brothers, but she nodded, shepherding the rest of the crowd out behind the parentals.
“Are you okay?” Agastya asked, concern darkening his eyes.
When Harsh didn’t immediately answer, Agastya’s hand reached out and gripped his shoulder.
Family, Harsh thought again. And this man, standing in front of him, was the only man who’d truly parented him. If there was any one in this world, he owed something to, it was his older brother.
Agastya had fought for him, defended him, stood between him and their father endlessly even when Harsh had returned his efforts with nothing but grief. He’d never stopped fighting for Harsh even when Harsh had stopped fighting for himself.
For the second time that night, Harsh bent at the waist, reaching to touch his elder brother’s feet. A sharp intake of breath was the only sound he heard before Agastya pressed his hand to the back of Harsh’s head before yanking him up and into a tight hug.
“I wish you a lifetime of happiness ahead,” Agastya said, his voice gruff with emotion. “Irrespective of the path that leads you to it.”
Harsh nodded, his throat too choked with emotion to get any words out.
Agastya gripped the back of his neck, hard. “You’re going to be fine,” he told Harsh. “Happy, successful, and peaceful. You are going to be absolutely fine.”
“Well,” Harsh said, dryly, finally finding his voice. “If Agastya Kodela decrees it, then even the Gods wouldn’t dare deny it.”
Agastya laughed, the sound suspiciously watery. “Let’s go before they send a search party out for us.”
They were halfway to the door when Agastya added, “And Harsh?”
Harsh glanced at his brother.
“If you want to run, I’ll have the car ready and waiting.”
“And if I want to stay?” Harsh asked, giving voice to a yearning that was taking root too deeply to unearth.
“You want to stay?” Agastya looked even more dumbfounded by the confession. “Really?”
Harsh wondered how much to say. In the end, he settled for, “She’s growing on me.”
Agastya smiled, a slow, warm smile. “Then I’ll parallel park the car and barricade the exit.”
Harsh gave him some side eye as they joined the others waiting for them outside. “Are you throwing shade on the fact that I can’t parallel park?”
“Those of us who can, do.” Agastya shrugged. “Those of us who can’t, should be grateful we can afford drivers.”
They were still laughing as they got into the cars waiting to take them to the venue for the cocktail party. For the first time in a long time, Harsh felt comfortable in his own skin.
Until the moment they reached the party and he saw Raashi waiting with her parents. She was wearing a wine-coloured sheath that fitted like a glove around her luscious curves, her hair teased into waves and resting on her shoulders. Her big, kohl lined eyes looked at him, an uncertain question lurking in them.
And suddenly, he was no longer comfortable. His skin felt too tight, too hot, too everything.