‘Why do you look so angry?’
I turned around with a start and found Saahil Mehra staring at me. The same handsome features, the same robust physique and the same curly dark hair. He hadn’t changed a bit! Saahil ‘Charming’ Mehra was a name discussed with great enthusiasm in the girls’ dormitories even after we had started dating in the third year of our college. And although I didn’t want to admit it, his killer looks had just made my heart skip a beat, again.
‘Hi,’ I managed to say and tucked a tuft of hair behind my ear.
‘Good to see you after such a long time.’
‘Likewise.’
‘So do you work here?’ he enquired.
‘My husband does.’
‘Oh . . . where is he?’
I looked through the glass wall at Omi and turned back to look at Saahil.
‘He is around somewhere.’
I was a little embarrassed to introduce Omi to him. Saahil, after all, had been the rockstar of our college, the stylish hunk, whereas Omi was too plain, too simple. I was afraid that Saahil would mock me or judge me for marrying someone who was so average in appearance. They were complete opposites of each other. Saahil was fastidious about his lifestyle, his choices and his plans, whereas Omi had always been more of a carefree and spontaneous guy.
‘What brings you here?’ I enquired.
‘I am one of the investors in this company.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Have you forgotten that grey makes you look fat?’ Saahil stared at my evening gown and smiled sarcastically.
And the black tuxedo makes you look hot!
‘No, it doesn’t. And why would you still be interested in deciding which colour suits me?’
‘Come on . . . After all, we were close a few years back.’
‘Yeah, those were difficult times . . .’
‘Really?’ Saahil winked, making me blush.
‘Yes,’ I said, looking away.
‘If you say so . . . but I am glad that my wife wears whatever I ask her to. Isn’t she gorgeous?’ Saahil pointed towards a stunning woman in a fiery-red gown, standing at a distance talking to a group of people.
‘Hmm . . . so she likes being controlled,’ I taunted.
‘Some people, unlike you, are happy to do what they are told, Go-Go . . .’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘But you used to like it back then,’ Saahil said, running his fingers through his hair.
‘Now I don’t.’
‘Okay, I think I should leave now. My wife must be missing me. It was nice to see you after all this while, and I hope you are living on your own terms and making your own choices . . .’
‘Yes.’
‘Good for you. And good luck with your happy-happy life, Go-Go. Bye.’ Saahil waved and walked away.
Happy-happy life? Really? Was I living one?
I waved back and finished my juice, watching him keenly as he approached his wife. A tuft of light brown hair fell on her beautiful face. Saahil stroked her cheeks lovingly as their eyes locked. A strong wave of jealousy surged inside me as they held hands, and then a deep regret filled my heart . . .
Saahil had been the most sought-after guy in our college and girls had been crazy about him. He was like a prince of dreams for most of them . . . For me too. His good looks and charm were bewitching. I had started liking him from the very first day of our college—the day he had walked into class for the first time and taken a seat near me. He had smiled as he had introduced himself—a smile I would have died for! With time we became good friends, but he had already conquered my heart. I never told him how I felt because I was too shy to confess my feelings and afraid of rejection. Meanwhile, he was busy getting in and out of relationships. And then, one fine day, while we were enacting a play at our college festival, he realized he had feelings for me. It was the happiest day of my life when he confessed his love for me.
Our relationship was precious to me and we were having a great time together, but things changed in a few months. Saahil the friend was very different from Saahil the lover. He was bossy and dominating, always wanting to do things his way—my opinions and desires never mattered to him. From deciding what I should wear to when I should call my parents, he had started controlling my whole life. It felt like living with a dictator. He always talked about his career and ambitions but would laugh off mine when I tried to discuss my dream of starting my own catering business someday. It was as if nothing related to my life mattered to him; it was suffocating and intolerable. And when I could not take it any more, I broke up with him, hurting his ego badly. Our relationship ended. Our paths changed. And he never called. And I was glad about it.
But today, after seeing him, old feelings stirred inside me. I started doubting my decision to leave him. Had I done the right thing? What harm would it have caused if I had just listened to him and given in to his dominating nature? So what if he wanted things his way? So what if he decided things for me? Would it have been that bad? Wouldn’t my life have been better with him, instead of with this foolish Omi?
Saahil and I, we could have been the power couple of this evening. I would have been standing near him, holding his hand, certainly living a much more comfortable life, wearing fiery-red gowns and going to top-class parties. Things could have been different and wonderful . . .
‘Hey, Gauri!’ Richa hugged me from behind and said enthusiastically.
‘What took you so long?’ I asked.
She was Omi’s junior and my good friend.
‘Traffic. But I see you talked to Saahil Mehra. How do you two know each other?’
‘We were at college together. You know him too?’ I asked, a little surprised.
‘Of course, honey. He is one of our major investors and, believe me, since he started pouring in his money, our profits have doubled. This guy is a magician!’
It was a little too much for me to take in in one night. Once again, I experienced a bout of envy for Saahil’s wife. That woman had everything—not just the most handsome man of the party as her husband but also a share in the company!
‘He is so good-looking . . . I wish he had married me!’ Richa said dreamily.
I wish too . . .
‘By the way, did you forgive Omi for the goof-up of orders?’
‘Oh, please! He is the one at fault. He is the one who caused the ruckus and now he’s asking his colleagues to defend him. I am fed up of Omi!’
‘Come on, Gauri . . . It was because of the confusion in names . . .’
‘He just gives excuses and does nothing.’
‘Well, he did something phenomenal, actually . . . Although he asked me not to tell you, but I will.’
‘What did he do now?’
‘He did not come to office today and went to meet both your clients with flowers, and apologized to them. Also, he convinced them to delete their comments from your website and requested them to write good and honest reviews about the taste of your food.’
‘Really?’ I was taken aback.
‘Check your website if you don’t believe me. And if that was not enough, he asked all of us at the office to share your business page on our social media handles. The likes and hits on your site have spiked enormously!’ Richa explained.
‘That’s amazing!’ I smiled.