Chapter 10
10
The past
A nanya studied the painting on the wall, angling her head to the left and then to the right. The dark eyes of the man in the painting followed the tilt of her head.
“That’s creepy,” she said.
She walked a few steps to the right, and once again, the eyes of the subject in the painting followed her.
She shook her head. “Ugh, no. Reject. Never buying something like that ever.”
“It’s called the Mona Lisa effect,” a voice said from her left.
Her nape prickled. She whipped her head to the side, and her heart did a somersault. It was him . Mihir Oshnov.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
He came to stand next to her, observing the painting.
“The Mona Lisa effect is a perception that the eyes of the subject follow the viewer,” he said, his eyes still on the painting. “It’s, of course, an illusion; the eyes never actually move.”
She looked at him for a long moment. “I suppose it got its name from the Mona Lisa because that painting, too, feels like her gaze is following you around the room.”
“Correct,” Mihir said, still not looking at her.
He still stood where he was, but it sure felt like the distance between them was lesser now. Had she moved closer to him without realizing? She inhaled, and his perfume hit her nose. It was woody, musky—intense. Like him. She studied his profile. Dressed in a dark grey sports jacket, teamed with black trousers and a black shirt, his hair stylishly pulled back over his forehead, he looked fabulous. After meeting him in the café last week, they’d shared two classes this week. However, they’d only exchanged a hello, nothing more. He hadn’t engaged with her, until now, in this art gallery.
She refocused on the painting. “I’ve never quite liked the Mona Lisa, no offence to Da Vinci fans, and this one is no better.”
Mihir finally turned to face her. “I agree that the Mona Lisa is overrated. The Louvre has many other paintings that appeal more to me.” He tipped his chin at the painting on the wall, reading the label below. “Noir comme la nuit.”
“It means as black as the night. I suppose it’s in reference to the eyes.”
“You speak French?” Mihir asked her.
“No…” She perked her brows. “But I do have Google to help me translate.”
He smiled, studying the painting again. “This artist is quite talented. His subject’s eyes look vicious, dangerous… and sad. Must have been hard to paint them so realistically. It’s actually very good work.”
“Let’s agree to disagree on that.” She offered him her hand. “Hi.”
His lips tipped up. “Hello, Anna.”
His hand caught hers, and a spike of energy rushed down her skin. Her breath caught in her throat. What had just happened? She removed her hand from his, her skin still tingling from where they had touched.
“It’s actually Ananya. Ananya Mehra,” she said. “I couldn’t correct you that day.”
“I don’t need to be corrected,” he said.
“Meaning?”
“I already know your name; I just feel Anna suits you better.”
Her eyes widened. Wait what? He knew her name? Then why was he still insisting on calling her Anna? I mean she did like the way Anna rolled out of his lips, but still...
“Do you just go about giving nicknames to women you’ve just met?”
“Nope, just you.”
“That sounds very stalkerish.”
He laughed. The sound was rich and lush, and it hit her somewhere in the center of her chest. Fuck. What was happening to her?
“No stalking at all. I promise.” Mihir smiled.
She gave him a dirty look, annoyed with herself for liking his smile, and his laugh, and the way he looked, and the way he spoke with a bit of an accent. Fuck. She’d lost her mind. She didn’t know him at all. He could be a stalker, for all she knew. And here she was, salivating over him, a complete stranger. Yet, her heart rejected the notion of moving away from him.
“In Russian,” he began, “Anna means grace, and you are very graceful. Hence, Anna suits you. And it is a short form of your name Ananya. That’s all.”
“Do you speak Russian?” she asked.
“A bit.”
She frowned. “Why Russian, though?”
“Why not Russian?”
Yeah, why not? She knew people in her class who were learning Mandarin and German. If he wanted to learn a foreign language, good for him. Perhaps his family had business interests there and it would help him if he knew the language.
He went to the next painting. She walked beside him, pausing as he stopped to study the artwork.
She watched him. Even though his focus was on the painting on the wall, he looked amused, as if he knew she was watching him.
She clucked her tongue. “You being here at this art gallery at the same time as me does make this whole thing feel stalkerish.”
He chuckled, moving to the next exhibit. “My father knows the artist showcasing tonight. I’m here to represent my dad, that’s all.” He waved in the distance. A gentleman in his fifties returned his wave.
“See, that’s him—Pedro Pavlov. Are you convinced I’m not a stalker now?” His eyes sparked with mischief. “But wait, what if you are stalking me?”
She made a face. “My mom knows the owner of the gallery. I’m here in place of her.”
She pointed to an elegantly dressed woman.
“Good,” Mihir said. “Now that it’s established that neither of us is stalking the other, how about we quickly finish from here and go out for dinner?”
She gasped.
“That’s very forward of you,” she said. “I don’t date strange men, especially who I’ve only just met and who call me Anna.”
“I will always and only call you Anna.”
He said it with so much conviction and possessiveness that her heart stuttered.
“And guess what, Anna?” he said. “You are going to go out to dinner with me, because there is something between us. I feel it, and I know you feel it too.”
“Now I feel like saying no just to put you in your place.”
“But you won’t,” he said, his tone full of confidence.
She looked at him for a long moment, deciding whether to take a chance on this bold, self-assured man who made her heart flutter like a caged bird longing to be set free—to soar and fly.
“Fine,” she breathed out. “I’ll choose the restaurant. And you should know that I’ll be texting my brother where I’ll be going for dinner. So, if he doesn’t hear from me, he’ll come after you with an axe.”
He laughed. “You’re cute.”
“I’m careful.” She pointed a finger at him. “I don’t know you, Mihir Oshnov, but I am willing to take a chance on you. You better not disappoint.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
The present
Ananya exhaled, calming her still rapidly beating heart. That night, she had chosen a restaurant right next to the gallery. They’d laughed and chatted, staying until the restaurant had closed. Mihir had dropped her home, extracting a promise from her to meet him again the next day.
That had been the beginning of her doomed love affair with Mihir Oshnov. She’d fallen hard and fast for him, and he… he’d broken his promise to her. He’d disappointed her. He’d hurt her in the worst way possible.
What really upset her was how much of his life he’d kept hidden from her. He’d fed her only the basic details of his life, and like a besotted fool, she’d never questioned him for more. She’d na?vely revealed everything about herself and her family to him, without knowing much about him at all.
Fingers snapped in front of her face. Ananya looked up into the faces of her closest friends. Sheena and Avantika were watching her carefully.
Sheena took a seat in front of her while Avi sat next to her.
Avi touched Ananya’s hand. “Are you okay?”
“Hey, I’m fine.”
“You looked lost,” Sheena said. “We called your name so many times.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Ananya replied. She addressed Sheena, “Why did you call us here? You said you wanted to talk.”
“Yes, but first, let’s order!” Sheena signaled the waitress for the menu. “I don’t have much time. I have to pick up Nia from playschool in less than two hours, then drop her home and return to work.”
Sheena was now the Chief HR Officer for Poseidon—their family’s massive shipping empire. Thanks to her, Poseidon ranked as one of the best organizations to work for in the Middle East.
Avantika waved at the hostess. Her family owned this restaurant, and, as usual, La Soiree was packed to the brim. It was a fab place and served delicious food. Ananya always loved coming here.
Once done with placing their orders, Avi asked, “So, what’s going on Sheena?”
“We’re here because of her.” Sheena pointed at Ananya.
Ananya scowled. “What? Why?”
Sheena glared at her before speaking to Avi. “Mihir hosted a pool party yesterday afternoon at his house. At first, we thought it was because he wanted to spend time with everyone since he never comes to our place, and you know why. But then, guess what?”
“What?” Avi asked, her eyes widening.
Ananya rolled hers. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You be quiet,” Sheena commanded. “Your turn to talk will come in just a moment.”
Avi looked from one to the other. “What happened?”
Sheena splayed a hand at Ananya. “She showed up. Can you imagine? And get this, she went straight up to Mihir and kissed him on the cheek.”
“I thought you didn’t see that,” Ananya grumbled.
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t hear about it,” Sheena retorted. “Anyway, after that, they were talking like normal adults. They didn’t fight at all.”
Avi’s eyes rounded as she leaned back in her chair. “What?”
She studied Ananya carefully. Ananya hadn’t told Avi the details of that night when she’d taken her help to escape her bodyguard and to go to Mihir’s house. Ananya had only told her that Mihir hadn’t been home. It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.
And Sheena continued to remain blissfully ignorant of the events of that night. Despite being her closest friend, Sheena wouldn’t hesitate to tell Rajiv that Ananya had escaped her bodyguard. So, it was better she did not know. And about that encounter with Mihir at the warehouse that night? Ananya couldn’t breathe a word of that to either of them.
That night, being in his arms had disturbed her more than she cared to admit. And seeing him with those men was not something she could share with anyone. Yes, she’d written about him in Noir, but it was barely giving away anything. Why had he even made such a fuss about it? Had he not provoked her, she never would have told him she had that damn video. She’d taken the video on a whim, thanks to her curiosity.
Her mind jumped to the events of last afternoon and how things had further snowballed between her and him. Her face burned. Fuck. What had she been thinking, allowing him to touch her the way she had? Oh God… he’d known just the way to touch her, to kiss her, to make her heart race and her body yearn. He’d known how to make her shatter and come apart. Even now, she wasn’t over the impact he’d had on her.
But what about him? If she’d behaved ridiculously, so had he. He’d been as lost in the moment as her. He hadn’t been able to control himself around her. She’d even felt the evidence of his arousal. So, now, where did that leave them?
Sheena snapped her fingers in front of her face again. “Stop daydreaming and answer the question.”
“Umm, sorry, what?” Ananya stuttered.
Sheena glared at her and said, “Rajiv and the girls told me that Mihir and you have called a truce. Is that true?”
Ananya sighed. “Yes. It was high time our siblings finally started to move on in their lives without either of us being a hindrance to their wedding plans.”
“And that kiss on the cheek?” Avi asked.
“It was just to get a rise out of him.”
Her friends stared at her. Their food arrived, and the delicious aroma of the ravioli in front of her made her mouth water. They all dug into their food with gusto.
“So, you and Mihir are okay to be in the same room together now?” Avi asked between bites.
“Yes.”
“When and how did that happen?” Sheena queried.
Ananya ate another bite of her pasta. “We met for coffee last week and talked.”
“You talked?” Avi asked. “Did you clear?—”
“—no,” Ananya cut her off. “That topic is off limits with him. He’s agreed to the truce as long as there’s no talk of the past.”
“Bastard,” Avantika swore.
“Asshole,” Sheena cursed. “I can punch him for you the next time I see him.”
Ananya chuckled. She was grateful to have these women in her life. Apart from her sisters, she was the closest to these women. She hadn’t known Avantika for long, but it felt like she’d known her forever.
“So, now what?” Avi asked.
“Wait,” Sheena held a hand out, grinning, “There’s more.”
Ananya frowned. “There is nothing more.”
“Really?” Sheena angled her head. “Are we not going to address the fact that you were alone with Mihir in the pool house?”
“Oh my God,” Ananya gasped. “You saw that. You know?”
Sheena smiled. “When you have kids, you are always looking around, ensuring they’re not getting into trouble. I saw you going to the pool house. A few minutes later, Mihir also went somewhere. A long time later, I saw you come out of the pool house, looking flustered and red in the face. And a few minutes later, Mihir followed from the same direction.”
Ananya gulped. She looked between the two girls.
Avantika dropped her spoon in her plate and laughed. “Oh. It’s like that, huh?”
A waitress came to clear their plates.
“Talk, Ananya, I don’t have all day,” Sheena said. “And don’t you dare say nothing happened. Your face clearly says otherwise.”
Ananya wiped her clammy hands on her dress. “I’d gone to change into my swimsuit. When I came out, he was there, waiting for me. As usual, he was trying to order me around. We got into an argument, and then…”
“And then? Sheena asked, wriggling her eyebrows.
“One thing led to the other, and then my mouth was on his, and his hands…” She shook her head. “We ended up making out.”
Pin-drop silence followed her words. Her friends looked shell-shocked.
“Say something…” Ananya whispered.
“Have you gone mad?” Sheena burst out.
“I thought you hated him,” Avi said at the same time
“I do hate him.” Ananya looked at her hands. “I hate him for hating me. I hate him for not caring for me enough to even tell me he was alive. I hate him for judging me for something I don’t even know I did. But most of all, I hate him because when I was in his arms, it didn’t feel like hate at all.”
She dropped her head in her hands. “Fuck, I don’t know what to do.”
Sheena went to sit beside her, and Avi scooted closer to her from the other side. Both the women put their arms around her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Sheena said. “We’ve both been exactly where you are.”
“Yes,” Avi said. “We know what it is to want a man you shouldn’t want.”
“But it turned out fine for you two,” Ananya said. “In my case, he hates me so much.”
“Well, that is complicated,” remarked Sheena, never one to mince words.
Ananya made a face. “You think?”
Avi sighed. “Look, the only advice I can give you is to stay away from him. He doesn’t even want to clear the past with you. A physical relationship with him will only hurt you, Ananya.”
Sheena nodded in agreement. “She’s right. Mihir’s been holding a grudge against you for years. I don’t want him to use your physical attraction to him to hurt you further. I could tell Rajiv?—”
“—Please, no,” Ananya looked at each of the women. “Both of you have to promise me that you won’t breathe a word of this to your husbands. And Sheena, we can’t tell Navya and Reina. I don’t want any trouble to come out of this.”
Avantika smiled. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us.”
“Sisters before misters, always!” Sheena winked.
Ananya gave them a grateful smile. Her friends changed the topic to that of their children, and soon, they all stood to leave.
At the exit, Ananya hugged the ladies, and they promised to meet soon. A waitress neared them, carrying a takeaway cup. Avi took the cup and handed it to Ananya.
“It’s your favorite iced latte,” Avantika said. “I know how your coffee makes you feel better.”
Ananya gave her a warm smile. Avi really was a great friend. “Thank you.”
With a quick wave at the girls, Ananya moved in the direction of her car.
“Ananya? Wait.” A voice behind her made her turn. Her face split into a smile when she recognized the man walking toward her.
“Zeeshan, hi! How are you?”
Zeeshan pulled her in for a hug. “Hiya, girl.”
“It’s been so long! Five years now, isn’t it?” Ananya said. “When did you get back from Ethiopia?”
“I returned two weeks ago,” her old friend said. “I’ve been meaning to call and all. Glad I ran into you. How’ve you been?”
“I’m good!” Ananya checked the time on her phone. “How come you’re here?”
“My office is close by, and I have several lunch meetings here. But I do want to catch up with you soon. When can you make time?”
“How about Friday?” she asked. “Does lunch work for you? We can check with Devina if she’s in town. I believe she’s always traveling between Mumbai and Dubai”
“Sweet. It will be like old times. I will message Devina.”
“Good, let’s meet at Zuma then. It’s close to my office. I’d love to hear all about your years in Africa.”
“Great, I’m looking forward to it,” her friend replied.
With a quick hug and a wave, Ananya sat in her car. After a quick sip of her latte, she drove off, a happy smile on her face. The four of them—Asha, Zeeshan, Devina, and she—had tried to keep in touch post their MBA days. They would even meet once in a while. Asha had gotten married and stayed in London, now raising her two adorable boys. Zeeshan had started working for UNICEF immediately after college. Devina, on the other hand, was still single and ran a successful designer boutique with branches in Dubai and Mumbai.
However, as time passed, they all had sort of lost touch, only occasionally wishing one another on birthdays and such. It was going to be nice to catch up with them after so long.
She weaved her car into the heavy traffic. It was funny how relationships changed with time. At one time, Zeeshan and the girls were a constant feature in her life. They were always together, at least until she began dating Mihir. After that, everything had changed.
And now, years later, Mihir had re-entered her life, and everything had changed again—her sisters were engaged to his brothers, and she and he… This time around, they were standing at opposite ends of the spectrum.
Sadness began to creep back into her heart. She stopped it immediately. There was no room for sadness or regrets or hate any more. If she had to deal with Mihir, then she’d fill her heart with strength, resolve, and determination instead. She sighed.
After their disastrous encounter, she’d gone outside and jumped into the pool to be with her family. Mihir had returned to the party a few minutes later. She’d played with her niece and nephew and chatted with everyone else, behaving as normally as she could. But on the inside, she’d been a churning ball of emotions. Mihir and she hadn’t spoken at all for the rest of the evening. But his eyes had been on her every time she had looked his way.
Fuck, she’d behaved so foolish, losing control the way she had.
Finally, an hour later, tired of pretending, she’d returned home. The night had been even more awful. Her mind had been an absolute mess. She’d swayed between blaming herself for her lack of control with him and remembering in great detail everything about that encounter. Even now, her body came alive thinking of him—his hands on her, his fingers inside her, moving knowingly, applying just the right amount of pressure and the right speed to make her lose her mind. Her heart rate spiked.
The truth was, she hadn’t been physical with any man after him. The few men she’d dated over the years had never appealed to her—certainly not enough to take anything forward with them. And for no fault of theirs. The problem always had been her… and her fixation on Mihir.
She clutched the steering wheel tighter. What happened yesterday had been a mistake. It meant nothing. It definitely didn’t mean that she was still fixated on him. She’d learn from this mistake and never repeat it again, and definitely not keep thinking about it, and him, anymore.
She needed to sever this connection between them once and for all. And soon.