Chapter 2
DAKSH
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Daksh Mathur rummaged through his backpack searching for a clean t-shirt. All he managed was a rumpled, somewhat gamey smelling black one. He sniffed it once before shrugging into it. It had to be better than dripping with coffee.
This was all he needed. To roll up to his family home looking like the homeless, vagrant son. Which was essentially what he was, he supposed. At least, it’s what they expected him to be.
He rinsed off the best he could at the sink and changed out his soaked shoes and socks for sandals.
Irritated and out of sorts, he grabbed his bag and left the washroom nodding to the man who shouldered past him with an irritable grunt.
His phone pinged. A message from his brother. He ignored it. The family could wait.
Daksh slid his sunglasses on and scanned the eating spots for somewhere he could grab a decent cup of coffee. He wasn’t walking back towards that fucking Starbucks now. When he finally spotted a south Indian eating joint, he sank into the only empty table left and ordered a cup of filter coffee.
He took a deep breath trying to will the tightness in his chest away.
But it didn’t work. Nothing ever worked.
Going home, facing his father, dealing with all that bullshit…
It always made it hard to take a breath.
Maybe he should swap out his coffee for a beer.
Then he could arrive in dirty clothes and smelling of alcohol.
He grinned as he thought of how his father’s head would explode if he did that. The coffee arrived and he shut his eyes and took a sip, allowing the liquid to burn down his throat while the steam fanned his face. Solitude, quiet, and caffeine. This was bliss.
And then a throat cleared.
Daksh’s eyes snapped open. The little mouse who’d squeaked and thrown coffee at him was standing there, staring at him. What the hell did she want now?
“Hi.” She gave him a nervous, fluttery smile. “I’m here to introduce myself and -“
Daksh sighed and looked longingly at his coffee. “To apologise?” Daksh looked at her then. Her eyes gleamed with irritation behind those round glasses of hers. “Apology accepted. Will you go away now?”
“No.”
“No?” His eyebrows shot up as he took a longer look at her. She wore a long pale, pink kurta with a white bottom. A kurta in Goa!! She had grandma hair, long, straight and thick, bundled into a bun. And of course there were the granny glasses to round off the look.
“No,” she repeated, trying to sound firm but her voice quivered around the single syllable. “I want to-“
“No, thank you. I’m not interested.” The words were out before he could control the delivery. But he was tired, he was irritable, and he was dirty, thanks to this woman. And he was not in the mood to be hit on, by her or by anyone else.
“Not interested?” Her smile fell away into a puzzled frown. “In what?”
“In you,” he said bluntly, dismissing her and going back to his coffee.
But she didn’t leave. She just stood there, her gaze burning into the side of his face.
He moved his coffee surreptitiously to one side, in case she got ideas and decided to fling this coffee at him, also.
He had no more clean clothes to change into.
His bag was stuffed with what could best be described as the debris of his ten-day assignment in the rainforest.
Brazil to India had been a long, hellish commute which was why he’d booked himself into a hotel in Goa for a couple of days to decompress before he went home.
But his flight had been delayed, he’d missed his connection and landed in this fucking place just in time to catch his flight to Mumbai, and to get to the bosom of his loving family.
So, when he said he wasn’t interested, he really fucking wasn’t. Not in her, not in conversation, not in any fucking thing.
“You think I’m interested in you?” she asked incredulously.
Daksh sighed and looked longingly at his coffee. “You’re not?” he asked, not bothering to look at her while he worked up the energy to sneer. “Yay. That works for both of us then. Because I’m sure as hell not interested in you. Now, will you please just go away?”
“No,” she said again.
Daksh groaned. What the ever-loving fuck was this? She threw coffee at him and now was what…stalking him?
“Ma’am.” He pushed himself to his feet, towering over her petite, old lady, self and used every additional inch to intimidate her into leaving.
“I need you to leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want to talk to you.
I don’t want to know you. I don’t want to ever have to see your face again. Is that clear?”
For a moment, he thought she’d turn tail and run. But when had God ever been that kind to him?
“No.”
Was that the only word in her vocabulary? Before he could ask her that question, she spewed a whole lot more at him. Red tinged those creamy, unlined, non-granny cheeks of hers.
“I don’t want to talk to you either. I sure as hell don’t want to know you. And I would love to never have to see your face again. But unfortunately, Mr. Daksh Mathur, that’s not going to happen.”
His eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name?”
She smiled, a brilliant, angry, glittery smile. “I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m Vedika Thakkar, your soon to be sister-in-law, you jackass.”
Daksh stared at her and then his gaze roved over her again.
Her? Ashish was marrying her? Why? But then, she was Aakash Thakkar’s daughter…
he was pretty sure that turned her into the best possible catch in his father’s eyes.
But Ashish? Daksh had always assumed his brother had been better than his father.
A little susceptible to parental pressure, sure, but a better person surely? What the hell was Ashish thinking?
“I promised your brother I’ll introduce myself and get to know you a little since we’re travelling home on the same flight. I’ve introduced myself and I can’t say, with any honesty, that it was a pleasure to get to know you. But, having said that, I’ve done my bit,” she snapped.
Well hot damn, the young granny mouse had a spine. Who would have thought?
“And now, I hope we see each other’s faces as little as possible. God willing.” She even made a little praying motion with her hands as she said those last two words.
Almost on cue, the overhead announcement speaker went off and a robotic voice spoke up, announcing the cancellation of all flights out of Goa due to Air Traffic issues.
And as he watched the dawning horror on her little face, for the first time in what felt like ever, Daksh laughed.
“I don’t think God was listening to you, sweetheart,” he said, grinning like the jackass she’d called him.