Chapter 6: Monsoon Showdown and the Final Break
While I was at an impasse with Kunal, the hostel door knocked again.
The knock was impatient, like someone couldn’t wait. My heart sank—I knew who it would be.
The hostel warden, a stern Tamilian aunty, led Priya to the door, shooting me a look that said, “Behave, or I’ll call your parents.”
Kunal, full of concern, hovered near her, eyes darting between us.
Priya ignored him, walking straight to me. My breath caught.
My roommate, always filmi, pushed Kunal out and closed the door, winking as if blessing us to patch up.
Priya, drenched, stood in front of me like a kitten abandoned by its owner.
Her salwar stuck to her legs, hair dripping, mascara running. She looked nothing like the perfect Arya heiress—just a heartbroken girl.
Her hair was messy, her eyes brimming. I couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears.
She hugged herself, shivering, lips trembling as she tried to speak.
"Arjun, don’t leave me."
Her voice was soft, barely louder than the thunder outside. For a moment, I forgot everything.
I clenched my palm, got up and handed her a towel. "Dry off, or you’ll catch a cold."
I rummaged through the mess, found a clean towel, and gently draped it over her shoulders.
Her eyes brightened, she grabbed my hand, moving closer. "Arjun, you still care about me?"
She squeezed my fingers, pleading for me to say yes.
"Let’s not break up, okay? If I did something wrong, I can change."
Her voice cracked, biting her lip to stop more tears.
"If you’re worried your dad won’t approve, I can try to win him over..."
She tried to smile, but it was weak.
"Priya, that’s enough." I interrupted.
I couldn’t let her degrade herself for me.
"I said we broke up. Can you stop pestering me?"
I made my voice cold, harsher than I felt.
She teared up and finally asked, "Is it because of last night?"
Her eyes searched mine. I looked away.
I brushed off her hand, stepping back. "It’s not important. I just want to break up. Don’t overthink."
I tried to sound detached, as if none of this mattered.
"Arjun, tell me. It’s important to me." She grabbed my shoulders, stubborn.
Her grip was strong. For a second, I almost caved.
I bit my lip, met her eyes, and deliberately said, "Yes, it’s because of last night."
The words were acid, but I forced them out.
"I don’t want a frigid woman. I’m still young—should I become a sadhu for life?"
I laughed bitterly, hoping she’d hate me enough to let go.