12. Medusa or Car Race?

The dusky evening air carried a strange stillness, broken only by the growl of engines on the quiet road. Veda's car sped forward, the wheels screeching against the asphalt. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles pale, her breath shallow and uneven. Behind her, Aadvik's car swerved through the traffic, inching closer until he was driving parallel to her.

“Aur kitna bhagogi, Veda?” Aadvik's voice cut through the wind as he rolled his window down, his eyes desperately searching for hers. "Ruko na! Itni jaldi kyu chala rahi ho? Mujhse baat karo!"

She didn’t answer. Her jaw tightened as she pressed harder on the accelerator, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. But Aadvik wasn’t giving up.

He honked loudly, pulled ahead of her, and abruptly swerved into her lane. Veda slammed on the brakes, the car jolting to a stop. For a moment, everything was silent except the furious pounding of her heart.

Throwing open the car door, she stepped out, her face a storm of anger. “Are you out of your mind, Aadvik? Tum kya kar rahe ho?!”

Aadvik got out of his car, his hands raised in surrender. His face was flushed, his hair disheveled from the wind.

“Tumse baat karne ki koshish kar raha hoon, Veda! Tum sun nahi rahi ho!”

“Baat karne ki ya mujhe pareshan karne ki?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Tumhe lagta hai ab tumhare saare jawab mere liye important hain?”

“Important hain!” Aadvik shot back, stepping closer. “Tumhare liye bhi, aur mere liye bhi. Veda, mujhe bas ek mauka do!”

Her laughter was sharp, bitter. “Mauka? Mauka chahiye? Ab? After nine years, Aadvik? Where were you when I needed you? Jab sab kuch bikhar raha tha, jab main khud se lad rahi thi, tab kahan the tum? Tumhe toh farak hi nahi pada!”

Aadvik flinched as if her words had physically struck him. “Farak pada tha, Veda," he said softly, his voice breaking. "Main… main dar gaya tha. Main samajh nahi paaya ki kaise samna karoon uss sab ka. Main galat tha. Mujhse galti hui.”

“Galti hui?” Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions. “Do you even understand what I went through? Tum nahi samjhoge, Aadvik. Tumhe nahi pata ki kitne raat maine rokar guzaari hain. Kitne din bas yeh sochti rahi ki koi toh hoga jo meri madad karega.” She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But no one came, not even you"

Aadvik’s eyes brimmed with tears now, his breath hitching. “Main samajhta hoon, Veda. Main yeh sab sunne ke layak nahi hoon. But I’m here now. Mujhe ek chance do, please.” He stepped closer, his voice trembling. “Ab kabhi nahi jaane dunga. Main tumhare saath hoon… hamesha ke liye.”

She shook her head, her laugh hollow and pained. “Promises. Hamesha promises hi rahte hain tumhare paas. But they don’t mean anything. Tumhe pata bhi hai kitna mushkil hota hai vishwaas karna, jab woh ek baar toot jaye?”

Aadvik reached out as if to touch her shoulder but stopped himself. “Mujhe ek moka de do, Veda. Bas ek moka. Main tumhara bharosa jeet ke dikhaunga. Tumhe samjhane ke liye nahi, tumhare saath khud ko sudharne ke liye.”

The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating. Veda turned her face away, her shoulders trembling. Tears threatened to spill, but she blinked them back. The cool evening air felt sharp against her heated skin.

She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible. “Aadvik… tumhe samajhna hoga ki yeh itna asaan nahi hai.”

“Main samajhta hoon,” he whispered, his voice firm despite the tears streaming down his face. “Aur main wait karunga, jitna tum chaho. Bas ek mauka de do, Chanda.”

The streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows between them. For a moment, neither spoke, the weight of the past too heavy to ignore.

-

Palak unlocked her apartment door with a tired sigh, her shoulders heavy from the day’s demands. All she wanted was to curl up with a cup of tea and forget the world. But the moment she stepped inside, her eyes fell on the bag sitting conspicuously on the coffee table.

“What the—?” she muttered, dropping her keys and walking over.

The bag was sleek, its contents revealed as she unzipped it: an ocean-blue gown that shimmered with a glittery elegance. The dress was stunning, almost otherworldly, like something out of a red carpet event. Her fingers brushed against the soft fabric, and that’s when she noticed the note tucked inside.

Unfolding it, she read the bold, familiar handwriting:

Wear this for tonight.

xoxo, love, Abhinav.

Her brows furrowed. Tonight? What was happening tonight? They’d barely spoken after their last public outing as a “couple.” Whatever this was, it hadn’t been discussed.

Reaching for her phone, she dialed his number, leaning against the couch. He picked up after a couple of rings, his voice brisk.

“You got the dress, right?” he asked, skipping pleasantries.

“Yes, I got it,” she replied, rubbing her temple. “But what’s tonight? What am I wearing this for?”

“It’s for an event,” he said, his tone clipped, as though that should be explanation enough.

“An event? Abhinav, what event? You didn’t tell me anything about this.”

There was a pause on the line, followed by an irritated sigh. “Palak, it’s not rocket science. It’s a corporate gala, and you’re my plus-one. Fake girlfriend duties. You know, the deal we agreed on?”

Her stomach twisted at his dismissive tone. “I know the deal, but it doesn’t mean you get to spring things on me at the last second. I’ve had a long day, and—”

“Palak, can you stop overthinking everything for once?” he snapped, cutting her off. “Just wear the dress and be ready by 8. It’s important.”

“Important to who? You or your reputation?” she shot back, her voice rising.

“Both!” he snapped, and then softened, though his patience was clearly fraying.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. Just… do this one thing, okay?”

“Abhinav, you can’t just—”

But the line went dead.

She stared at her phone, her chest tightening with a mix of anger and frustration. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, tossing the phone onto the couch.

Her gaze drifted back to the dress, its glittering surface catching the dim light of her living room. She didn’t owe him this. It was a fake relationship, after all—a contract, nothing more. Yet here she was, expected to play the perfect partner on command.

She groaned, sinking onto the couch and burying her face in her hands. “Why do I even bother?”

But even as she sat there, she knew she’d wear the dress. Not because she wanted to, but because she wasn’t about to let him—and whatever this ridiculous arrangement was—win.

•••

The grand ballroom was alive with chatter, clinking glasses, and soft music weaving through the air. Palak had barely stepped in, draped in the ocean-blue gown, when she felt a sharp gaze land on her. It wasn’t hard to guess—Abhinav had drawn her into yet another high-profile event, where her every move would be scrutinized.

“I never thought I’d see The Abhinav Randhawa with a date,” a deep voice said, laced with amusement.

Before Abhinav could reply, Palak interjected with a playful smirk. “Us, brother. Us.”

The man, probably in his late twenties, raised an eyebrow, his confusion evident. “Pardon?”

Before Palak could explain further, Abhinav smoothly slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was firm yet composed, his calm demeanor betraying none of the tension she felt radiating from him.

“My bad,” Abhinav said, his voice steady as always. “Thakur, meet my girlfriend—Palak Naaz.”

Lies. Lies. Lies.

The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and for a fleeting moment, Palak almost believed him. She forced a smile, playing the part of the devoted partner.

After a couple of hours Vaibhav, his keen eyes lingering on Palak for a moment longer than necessary, turned to his acquaintance beside him and declared, “Your girlfriend is very sweet, Abhinav. A rare find.”

Abhinav, standing a few feet away, caught the comment. His lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Indeed, she is,” he replied smoothly, sparing a quick glance in Palak’s direction.

But before Palak could decipher the look in his eyes, he turned away, heading toward a group of friends to offer his congratulations. She watched him go, her mind flickering with questions.

⋆.˚✮˚.⋆

Later that evening, Abhinav parked his car outside Palak’s apartment. The city was quiet, the soft hum of the engine the only sound breaking the stillness. Palak was fast asleep in the passenger seat, her head tilted slightly to the side, her breath soft and even.

“Palak,” he called softly, leaning toward her. When she didn’t stir, he hesitated before gently brushing her shoulder.

“Palak, we’re here,” he said again.

As he moved closer, something caught his eye—a tiny tattoo peeking out from behind her ear. The intricate design of Medusa, delicately inked, stood out starkly against her skin.

Abhinav froze, his hand hovering mid-air. He stared at the tattoo, his mind wavering. Of all the things he thought he knew about Palak, this felt... unexpected.

Medusa-fierce, misunderstood, and powerful.

For a moment, he couldn’t look away.

It felt as though the tattoo whispered a story, one he didn’t yet know but suddenly wanted to understand.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he gently tapped her shoulder again. “Palak, wake up. You’re home.”

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she blinked at him groggily. “Hmm? Oh, we’re here?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

As she gathered her things and stepped out of the car, Abhinav remained seated for a moment longer, his thoughts lingering on the unexpected glimpse of the woman he thought he knew.

And yet, why did it feel like the lines were beginning to blur?

--