Chapter Forty One
Ria's POV;
I felt suffocated in the car.
Not just uncomfortable-suffocated. Like the air itself had thickened, becoming too heavy to breathe, pressing down on my chest until my lungs burned with the effort of each shallow breath.
The space between us felt charged, electric, dangerous-like one wrong word would cause an explosion.
The rain grew heavier, fat droplets pelting against the windshield with increasing violence, and despite every instinct screaming at me not to, I looked over at Aansh.
My breath caught in my throat.
His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles had turned completely white, the skin stretched taut over bone. His veins popped out along his forearms and hands, thick cords of tension running up to where I could see them pulsing in his neck.
His jaw was still clenched with that same terrifying intensity, the muscle jumping rhythmically beneath his skin. Every line of his body screamed barely controlled rage.
He looked hot.
The thought hit me like a lightning bolt, and immediately I wanted to slap myself.
What are you thinking, Ria? I scolded myself, horror washing over me.
The man is probably thinking of a way to murder you and dispose of your body in this rain where no one would find you.
He's planning your funeral, and you're sitting here thinking he looks attractive?
But I couldn't shake the traitorous flutter in my stomach, the way my pulse quickened for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
The way my eyes kept being drawn to the sharp line of his jaw, the powerful set of his shoulders, the dangerous energy radiating from him.
Get a grip, Ria. He's furious. He's dangerous right now.
I felt this overwhelming, inexplicable need to explain to him that what he was thinking-whatever dark thoughts were consuming him-was completely wrong.
I didn't know why it mattered so much. I didn't know why I desperately needed him to understand, to know the truth.
I didn't know why I cared what he thought.
But I did.
God help me, I did.
I took a shaky breath, trying to gather my courage.
"Aansh," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain hammering against the car. The sound of his name felt strange on my lips-intimate somehow. I wiped at my tears with trembling fingers, trying to compose myself.
"Listen, what you're thinking is completely wrong. You've-you've misunderstood me and Ahaan. Whatever you saw back there, whatever conclusions you've jumped to, they're not true. You need to listen to me."
His grip on the wheel somehow became even tighter, and I heard the leather creak under the pressure. For a moment, I thought he might rip the wheel right off. The veins in his arms became more pronounced, his entire body radiating tension.
"And what is it that I'm thinking, hmm?" he said in a venomous tone that made every hair on my body stand on end, made shivers race down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
His voice was deadly quiet, which was somehow worse than if he'd been yelling.
"Tell me, Ria. What exactly am I thinking?
Enlighten me about what's going on in my head.
"
He paused, his jaw clenching even harder.
"And don't you dare say that fucker's name ever again.
I don't want to hear his name come out of your mouth. Not now. Not ever."
The way he said it-the raw, possessive fury in his voice-made something deep inside me clench. It was primal, territorial, like some ancient part of me had been awakened and was now prowling just beneath the surface.
I didn't answer his question because I honestly didn't know what was going on in his head. I couldn't read him, couldn't understand the storm raging behind those bloodshot eyes. Was it just anger? Or was there something else there-something deeper, more complicated?
I swallowed hard and tried again.
"He was my high school friend," I started, trying to keep my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands.
"That's all he is, Aansh. Just an old friend from years ago.
I met him by coincidence-I wasn't planning to see him, I didn't seek him out.
I just happened to bump into at the temple.
He wanted to catch up, to talk about old times, and the reason I hugged him was because he told me his wife is pregnant and-"
Before I could finish, before I could tell him that Ahaan was going to be a father, that I was congratulating him on the news, that it was nothing more than a friendly embrace, Aansh slammed his foot on the accelerator.
The car lunged forward with terrifying speed.
My heart leaped into my throat, my hands flying to grab onto anything-the door handle, the seat, the dashboard, something to anchor myself.
The speedometer climbed higher and higher-60, 70, 80 kilometers per hour.
The world outside became a blur of rain and darkness.
"Aansh, stop the car!" I yelled, panic flooding my system like ice water in my veins. "Aansh, please! This is insane! What are you doing?!"
He didn't even glance at me. He just drove faster, weaving between cars with reckless abandon, laying on the horn when they didn't move out of his way fast enough. The car swerved violently, and I was thrown against the door.
My voice rose to a scream. "Aansh! Listen to me! Stop this!"
Tears streamed down my face, hot against my cold cheeks. "Please, you're going to kill us. You're going to kill both of us! Stop! I'm begging you!"
But he went even faster, pressing the accelerator to the floor.
The terror that gripped me was all-consuming, visceral, dragging me down, down, down into a memory I'd buried so deep I'd almost convinced myself it never happened. The memory clawed its way up from the darkness where I'd locked it away, overwhelming everything else.
FLASHBACK;
"Mama, Papa, where are we going?" I asked, my small ten-year-old voice trembling as I looked at my mother's tear-stained face in the rearview mirror. "Why are you crying, Mama? What's wrong? Please tell me what's happening."
"Baby, you're just ten, you won't understand," she sobbed, her hands shaking as she gripped the back of my father's seat so hard her knuckles were white. "Everything will be okay. Just-just pray, beta. Pray."
My father was driving fast-too fast. The car swerved around corners, and I could see the speedometer climbing higher and higher. The tires screeched on the wet road.
"Papa, slow down," I kept saying, my voice getting smaller and smaller with each plea. "Papa, please slow down. You're scaring me. Why are we going so fast?"
"Beta, the brakes aren't working," my father whispered, his voice cracking with fear as he tried desperately to keep the car under control. His hands were shaking on the wheel. "They're not working. I'm trying, beta, I'm trying but-"
My mother's sobs grew louder, more desperate. I could hear her praying under her breath, her voice breaking.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying to any god who would listen. Please, please, please let us be okay. Please don't let us die. Please-
Then I saw it-the heavy truck appearing out of nowhere, its headlights blinding, coming right at us like a monster emerging from the darkness-
"NO!" my father screamed.
The impact. The horrific sound of metal crunching, glass shattering like a thousand tiny explosions. My mother's bloodcurdling scream. The world spinning, flipping, everything going black-
The pain. The confusion. The silence that followed.
I survived. We all survived, by some miracle, some impossible stroke of luck. The doctors called it a miracle. Said we shouldn't have made it.
But the terror of that night-the helplessness, the certainty that we were going to die, the feeling of being completely out of control-never left me. It lived in my bones, in my nightmares, in every moment of panic.
FLASHBACK ENDS;
"AANSH!" I screamed, my eyes flying open, my entire body shaking violently. "STOP! STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW!"
He slammed on the brakes.
The car screeched to a stop so violently that I was thrown forward, the seatbelt cutting brutally into my chest and shoulder, stealing the breath from my lungs. My head snapped forward and then back, the whiplash immediate.
For a moment, there was only silence except for the rain.
I was breathing heavily, my entire body shaking uncontrollably like I was having a seizure. My hands trembled in my lap as I stared at them, unable to make them stop, unable to make any of it stop. Cold sweat mixed with the tears on my face.
I looked over at Aansh, my vision blurred with tears.
"What's wrong with you?" I said, my voice trembling as badly as my hands. "What is wrong with you?! You could've killed us! We could have died-do you understand that? We could have died because of your stupid, reckless-"
He didn't answer. He just stared at my trembling hands, his expression unreadable. Something flickered in his eyes-was it concern? Regret? I couldn't tell.
Something inside me snapped. All the fear, all the frustration, all the pain came pouring out.
"You're selfish," I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them, my voice breaking.
"You're so goddamn selfish, Aansh. You only care about yourself.
About your anger, your pride, your ego. You don't care that you could have killed us both.
You don't care about anything except what you want, what you feel.
That's all that matters to you, isn't it? "
His eyes snapped to mine with deadly precision, and the rage-oh God, the rage-came flooding back with a vengeance. It was like watching a volcano that had been dormant suddenly erupt.
He threw open his door with such force it bounced back, and got out of the car, the rain immediately soaking him as he stalked around to my side with predatory precision.
Each step was measured, dangerous.
He yanked open my door and grabbed my arm with bruising force, his fingers wrapping around my bicep like iron bands.
"What are you doing?" I asked, confusion and fear warring inside me as he pulled me. "Aansh, what-let go of me! Where are you-"
He didn't answer. He just pulled me out of the car with one sharp tug and into the pouring rain.
The cold water hit my skin like a thousand needles, instantly soaking through my clothes, plastering my hair to my face and neck.
I gasped at the shock of it, my body recoiling from the sudden temperature change.
Before I could process what was happening, before I could even think to struggle, Aansh pushed me back against the car, the cold metal pressing into my spine, making me gasp again.
"I'm selfish?" he asked, his voice dangerously low, each word deliberate as he pressed me harder against the car.
His body caged me in, his hands on either side of me, trapping me completely.
"I'm the selfish one here? Is that what you really think, Ria?
You want to talk about selfish?"
He leaned in closer, his face inches from mine, water dripping from his hair onto my face.
"How about you? Do you think what you did wasn't selfish? Do you think throwing yourself into another man's arms, hugging him in public where anyone could see, where I could see-do you think that wasn't selfish? Did you think about how that would look? Did you think even think about my reputation?"
His fingers dug into my arms, and I knew with certainty there would be bruises tomorrow-purple and blue marks in the shape of his fingers.
"You act all innocent, all pure," he continued, his voice dripping with accusation. "You walk around like you're above it all. But you don't feel any shame, do you? You don't feel any shame hugging other men in public. Letting them touch you. Letting them put their hands on what's mine."
My heart clenched painfully in my chest, like someone had reached in and squeezed it.
"If he wasn't so important to you, if he meant nothing like you claim," he demanded, his face so close I could feel his breath on my skin, "then why did you wipe away the symbols of our marriage before going to see him?
Why did you take off your mangalsutra? Why did you wash away the vermillion from your forehead?
Tell me, Ria. Make me understand why you felt the need to hide the fact that you're married-married to me-before meeting him. "
His fingers dug even deeper into my flesh, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
I pushed against his chest with all my strength, using both hands, trying to create even an inch of space between us. But he didn't move even a fraction.
He was solid, immovable, like trying to push against a brick wall or a mountain.
Tears choked me, mixing with the rain on my face until I couldn't tell which was which.
"He is just a FRIEND!" I yelled, my voice breaking, becoming almost hysterical. "That's all he is! That's all he's ever been! Why won't you believe me? Why won't you listen?!
"Then why-"I cut him off.
"You want to know so badly why I didn't apply my vermillion or wear my nuptial chain?" I interrupted, my voice rising above the thunder rumbling overhead, louder than I'd ever spoken to him before.
The words poured out like water from a broken dam. "You really want to know, Aansh? Fine! I'll tell you!"
I looked directly into his eyes, letting him see everything-all my pain, all my frustration, all my exhaustion.
"Because I'm tired of pretending! I'm so tired of acting like this marriage means something when it doesn't! I'm tired of trying to be the perfect wife for a husband who looks at me like I'm a burden he's forced to carry!
I'm tired of wearing the symbols of a marriage which is not valued!
Why do you even care if I put them on or not when this marriage is just a compromise to you, Aansh?
When I'm just an obligation you have to fulfill?
When you made it clear from day one that you never wanted this, never wanted me? "
He stepped back slightly, and for a moment-just a fleeting moment-I saw something flash across his face. Shock? Hurt? Confusion? I couldn't tell before his mask slammed back into place, that cold, impenetrable wall he always kept up.
But my words kept coming. I couldn't stop them now even if I wanted to. Years of silence, of swallowing my feelings, came pouring out all at once.
"And don't you dare question my character again, Mr. Rathore," I said, my voice shaking with emotion but firm with conviction.
"Don't you dare stand there and accuse me of things I haven't done.
I can tolerate a lot. I can tolerate your coldness, your distance, your anger.
I can tolerate being ignored and dismissed.
But I will not tolerate you questioning my character.
I won't tolerate you making me feel like I'm some kind of-of cheater or liar.
I have my pride too, even if you don't think I do. "
I saw something flash in his eyes again-something dark and dangerous and possessive-but it disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it.
Then he grabbed my arm again, yanking me closer until our bodies were nearly touching, until I could feel the heat radiating from him despite the cold rain.
"Then stay the fuck away from men," he roared, his voice raw with barely controlled fury, so loud it echoed despite the rain. He looked into my eyes like he could see into my soul, like he could see every secret I'd ever kept.
"If you don't want me questioning you, if you don't want me doubting you, then stay away from them! Don't put yourself in situations where I have to wonder! Don't give me reasons to-"
He cut himself off, his jaw clenching so hard I heard his teeth grind.
The words slipped out before I could stop them, spoken so softly they were nearly lost in the rain. I don't know what made me say them. Maybe it was the hurt. Maybe it was the need to hurt him back the way he'd hurt me.
"Only those who know what cheating is accuse the other of it."
His entire body went rigid. Every muscle locked up. The change was instantaneous and terrifying.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
" he asked, his voice deadly quiet, more dangerous than when he'd been yelling.
He pressed his entire body against mine, pinning me completely to the car, eliminating any space between us.
"What the fuck are you trying to say, Ria? Spit it out. Say what you mean."
I couldn't think straight. Not with him this close. Not with his body pressed against every inch of mine. Not with his scent-expensive cologne mixed with rain and something uniquely him-clouding my senses, making my head spin, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts.
"You and Ruksar," I whispered, forcing myself to look at the ground because I couldn't bear to see his reaction, couldn't bear to see confirmation in his eyes. "I know about your affair. I know about you and her-"
His grip loosened slightly, just for a fraction of a second.
I looked up at him, and his jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack, thought his jaw might actually break from the pressure. His eyes were wild, burning with something I couldn't identify.
Then his grip tightened again, even tighter than before, and I hissed in pain, unable to hold it back.
"Aansh, you're hurting me-"
He grabbed my chin with his other hand, forcing me to look at him, his fingers firm against my jaw.
And then-
His lips crashed onto mine with devastating force.
I froze.
Every muscle in my body locked up. My eyes flew open in shock, so wide they hurt. My stomach flipped so violently I thought I might be sick. My brain completely short-circuited, unable to process what was happening.
Aansh was kissing me.
Aansh. The man who could barely look at me. Was kissing me.
I didn't move. I couldn't move. I just stood there, completely stunned, as his lips moved against mine with desperate intensity, with barely controlled violence.
He bit my lower lip-hard-and I hissed at the sharp, stinging pain.
When my lips parted in response to the pain, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth without hesitation.
His tongue invaded every corner of my mouth, claiming, demanding, taking.
The kiss was fierce and possessive and overwhelming, like he was trying to brand himself onto my very soul, like he was trying to erase every thought from my head except him.
I pushed slightly against his chest because I couldn't breathe, my lungs burning, screaming for air.
He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough that I could gasp for breath.
I was breathing heavily, my chest heaving, my entire body feeling like it had been set on fire from the inside out.
Every nerve ending was alight, sparking with electricity I'd never felt before. My lips tingled, swollen and sensitive.
Aansh kissed me.
The thought repeated in my head like a mantra, over and over.
He actually kissed me.
My cheeks burned so hot I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
I'd never been kissed before. Never been touched like this.
And my first kiss was angry, possessive, furious-nothing like the sweet, gentle first kiss I'd imagined as a girl.
I looked up at him, and his breathing was steady-far steadier than mine. He was staring at my lips with an intensity that made my stomach do violent flips, made heat pool low in my belly, made me feel things I didn't understand.
"You-" I started, my voice hoarse, but before I could say anything else, before I could ask him what that was or why or what it meant, he grabbed my waist with onehand and pushed me further against the car.
His other hand tangled in my wet hair, gripping tightly, tilting my head back at the angle he wanted.
Then he slammed his lips onto mine again, even harder this time.
This time, despite everything, I kissed him back.
I didn't mean to. I didn't plan to. But my body responded before my brain could catch up, before I could tell myself this was wrong or confusing or insane. My lips moved against his with clumsy desperation, trying to match his rhythm, trying to keep up.
He immediately took control, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a dance that was far too intimate, far too intense. It was overwhelming, consuming everything else.
He pressed himself further into me, and I could feel every hard line of his body against mine-his chest, his abs, his thighs.
It made me acutely aware of how small I was compared to him, how completely he surrounded me, how utterly I was at his mercy.
He took my tongue into his mouth, sucking on it, and I gasped into the kiss, the sensation sending shockwaves through my entire body, making my knees weak.
The kiss was full of desire and unspoken emotions-jealousy, possession, frustration, need, anger, want. It was overwhelming, consuming, devastating. It felt like he was pouring everything he couldn't say into this kiss, using his mouth to communicate what his words never could.
I tried to keep up with him, tried to match his intensity, but I failed miserably. He had complete control, claiming my mouth like he owned it, like he owned me, like he had every right to take what he wanted.
He nipped at my lower lip again, then bit it hard enough that I tasted blood, felt the sting of ripped skin.
I hissed at the pain, but he swallowed every sound I made, his mouth never leaving mine, his tongue soothing the hurt he'd just inflicted but sucking on it.
The kiss deepened impossibly further, and I couldn't breathe. My lungs screamed for air, burned with the need for oxygen, but I couldn't seem to care, couldn't seem to pull away. Didn't want to pull away.
I grabbed his blazer, fisting the wet material in my hands desperately, trying to signal him to stop, trying to tell him I needed air.
But Aansh kept his assault on my lips, his tongue entangling with mine, exploring, tasting, devouring like he couldn't get enough, like he wanted to consume me entirely.
I pushed harder against his chest with what little strength I had left, my vision starting to blur at the edges, black spots appearing.
He finally stopped, pulling back.
My chest rose and fell rapidly, desperately, my lungs burning as I gulped in air like a drowning person finally reaching the surface.
My whole body felt like it was short-circuiting-every sense completely screwed up, overloaded with sensations I'd never experienced before, didn't know how to process.
I wanted more. Despite everything-despite the confusion, despite the fear, despite not knowing what this meant-God help me, I wanted more of him.
He tasted like mint and rain and something darker, more intoxicating. Something addictive.
He stepped closer again, eliminating what little space he'd created, raising my chin with his fingers.
I looked at him, unable to look away, unable to do anything but stare, caught in whatever spell he'd cast over me.
His eyes showed something I couldn't read-something complex and layered and almost vulnerable.
Something that made my breath catch all over again.
His thumb slowly pressed against my tingling, swollen lip, and the gentle touch after such fierce kisses made me shiver violently.
"I'm a man of principles," he said, his voice rough and low, almost hoarse.
Each word was deliberate, measured. "I don't go around fucking women.
I'm not like that. I don't sleep around, I don't have affairs, I don't cheat.
I hate cheaters. I hate people who betray trust like that. Do you understand me?"
His thumb caressed my lower lip with devastating tenderness, the gentle touch contrasting sharply with the violence of moments before.
"And about me and Ruksar-" his jaw clenched, "there is nothing going on between us. There never has been. There never will be. Whatever you think you know, whatever you had -you're wrong. There is no affair. There is no relationship. There is nothing."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the rain still falling around us.
His confession hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning, with truth that I could hear in his voice.
We were completely soaked by the rain, our clothes plastered to our bodies, water dripping from our hair, but neither of us seemed to care. The world had narrowed down to just this-just us, just this moment suspended in time.
He looked at my lips one more time, his gaze so intense it felt physical, like a touch, and I thought he might kiss me again. Part of me desperately wanted him to.
Instead, he stepped back suddenly, breaking the spell, and walked to the car with measured steps.
I was still frozen in my position against the passenger door, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened, trying to process the whiplash of emotions.
Aansh kissed me.
That was my first kiss.
He said there's nothing with Ruksar.
He kissed me like-like he was dying and I was oxygen.
I touched my lips with trembling fingers, feeling how swollen they were, how sensitive. I could still taste him. Still feel the ghost of his mouth on mine. I tasted the faint copper of blood mixed with the rain.
The sound of the car engine roaring to life brought me out of my dazed thoughts, pulling me back to reality.
I tried the car door, grabbing the handle and pulling, but it was locked.
Confusion washed over me. I pulled again. Still locked.
Aansh rolled down the window slowly, and the look he gave me was completely unreadable-cold, distant, like the past few minutes hadn't happened at all. Like he hadn't just kissed me senseless. Like he hadn't just confessed there was nothing with Ruksar. Like he could just switch it off that easily.
"Walk," he said simply, his voice flat and emotionless.
I stared at him in disbelief. "What?"
"I said walk. You have legs. Use them."
Then he sped away, the car disappearing into the rain and darkness, the taillights fading until there was nothing left but black night.
I was left standing there in complete shock, my mouth hanging open.
I was in the middle of nowhere. On some deserted road.
In this pouring, freezing rain. Thunder crashing overhead.
And he expected me to walk.
I didn't even know where I was-I was new to Goa, completely unfamiliar with this area, didn't know which direction to the villa.
Rage and disbelief and hurt all crashed over me at once, replacing the heat that had been there moments before with ice-cold fury.
How dare he? How dare he kiss me like that and then just-just leave me here?
"Go to hell, Aansh!" I screamed into the rain, my voice echoing in the empty darkness, raw with emotion. "Go straight to hell! I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you!"
But he was already gone.
And I was alone.
Standing in the rain.
My lips still tingling with the memory of his mouth.
My body still burning despite the cold.
My heart still racing, pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.
Hating him and wanting him in equal, terrifying measure.
Not understanding anything that had just happened.
Not understanding him.
Not understanding myself.
Not understanding how he could make me feel so much-too much-all at once.
I wrapped my arms around myself and started walking, not knowing where I was going, just knowing I had to move.
Tears mixed with rain on my face.
And all I could think about was the taste of mint and rain and him.