APRICITY [Completed] - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

I walk out of my office building. This was my first day of work at INTEL. The name HEX TECHNOLOGIES on my CV worked in my favour and I easily bagged this job.
It's been 2 weeks since the washroom incident. Two weeks of not seeing Vihaan yet thinking about him constantly. Two weeks since Grandpa put the house up for sale.
So when I exit the building and find Vihaan standing outside, I pause.
What is he doing here?
Hasn't he already tormented me enough?
My vocal cords are permanently damaged because of him. Now every time I speak, my voice comes out raspy.
His eyes bore into me. I ignore him and continue walking. I'm still living in the same apartment I rented after I left his house. Yes, his. That building could never become something to me.
After a few dozen steps, I look back only to find him following me. I increase my pace and I'm pretty sure he does too because now I can hear the crunch beneath his boots. Suddenly, I turn around and stop. He does too.
I glare at him while he gives me a small smile.
"Hey," he says.
"What do you want?" I go straight to the point.
He exhales.
"A lot of things," he answers vaguely.
My breath hitches in my throat.
"What are you playing at now Vihaan?" I ask cautiously.
"I want to apologise for my actions," he states.
I almost choke out a laugh.
"You have to feel guilty and take responsibility for your actions for that. And as far as I know, whatever you did was the ultimate correct thing to do," I shoot.
"See, I know it will take time for you to trust me again and I am willing to wait for as long as you want. But I am genuinely sorry for what I did and I just need one chance to make this right," he explains with a hint of desperation in his voice.
I study his features closely. He doesn't look good. He has dark bags under his eyes and lines on his face. My gut tightens but this time I won't fall for his tactics.
"No," I say and start walking again. His shadow cast by the descending sun merges with mine on the dusty road. It doesn't come any closer, but doesn't go away either.
"What?" I ask him turning around.
"Please Surbhi," he says in that annoyingly husky voice of his.
My jaw tightens. I love my name but I hate it when he utters it.
I flash him my sweetest smile and take a step in his direction. He clearly didn't expect me to because his body tenses.
"Say my name with your filthy mouth again and I will slit your throat in your sleep," and with that, I flip him my middle finger.
"Okay okay no saying names," he shaking his head and bringing his hands up.
"And stop following me," I command sternly.
"That's not gonna happen."
I narrow my eyes at him again.
"Until and unless you don't give a me chance to at least explain myself, I will follow you everywhere," he declares his intentions and I swear his voice has something akin to pride in them. Like he believes what he's doing is the right thing.
Nothing new for Vihaan Singhania.
"I didn't know you had a puppy kink," I tilt my head and wait for his angry outburst at my statement.
To my surprise, he grins widely.
"Do you want me to follow you on all fours baby? Because I'll gladly do it for you."
"Never thought of you as the submissive kind," I attempt further.
This conversation is quickly turning into something dangerous.
"As I said, I'll do anything you want," he nods.
"Then leave me alone. That's the only thing I want."
He gives me a sad smile.
"That's the only thing I can't do baby."
"Huh! One and the only thing I ask for and you refuse it. So much so for I'll do anything."
He doesn't reply and continues following me. When we reach my apartment building, he stays outside. I climb the stairs, feeling the heat of his intense gaze on me. Not sparing him any more time of my day, I unlock my door and get inside.
The next morning, I descend the stairs while going through my bag to make sure I have everything. After my encounter with Vihaan yesterday, I am in a rather grumpy mood. I want to erase him from my mind but when I look up, I have a surprise waiting for me.
Vihaan stands in a new suit indicating he went home and took a bath. He has a bouquet in one hand and a tiffin in another. I again ignore him and walk towards my office building.
"Good morning baby," he says catching up to me.
"I got you flowers," he says and practically shoves the bouquet in my face.
My ignorance seems to catch up to him because his smile wavers a little before he catches himself.
"And I brought breakfast. Aloo paranthas with butter, only for my gorgeous wife."
My stomach grumbles. I didn't have time to prepare breakfast but I'd rather accept a lollipop offered by a stranger, meant to kidnap kids than accept anything from him.
"Got it! No flowers or aloo parantha. By the way, did I tell you that you look pretty?"
I almost snort a laugh. I'm wearing and t shirt and cargo pants, not an ideal outfit for work and I'm looking anything but pretty.
He continues to try to make small talk. I direct my attention to him for the first time today only to glare at him. Thankfully, it works and he shuts up.
I throw my bag on my table and sink into my head. I rest my head on my palms. A warm hand settles on my shoulder and that's when I realize that I'm shaking. I taste the salt first and notice the wetness on my cheek later.
I act quickly to wipe my tears and get back in my zone. I can't get fired on my second day here.
"It's alright," Shruti says, comforting me.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause this mess. I'll go clean up," I stand up. Shruti's fingers lace around my wrist and she makes me sit back.
"I said it's alright. It's okay to not always be okay."
I smile at her kindness.
"We can talk about it," she says while rubbing my shoulder.
Oh, how badly I want to!
I want to talk about this with someone other than my family. Not that I ever explained anything to them. Thankfully, they didn't ask either. they noted my scars in the hospital and put two and two together.
I look into Shruti's eyes. Warmth, kindness and compassion radiate from them. I break down again on the spot.
"It's about my husband," I say between broken sobs. "We just had a divorce, sort of. He hasn't signed the papers yet. He's demanding money to sign them."
"Ah, sweetie! This is so fucked up. You can report about this you know? To the police. They'll know what to do."
"I can't. He's a very influential man. He followed me after office yesterday and today from my apartment to work."
"Did he- Did he try anything?" She asks in a timid voice.
"No. But having him around hurts too much. It triggers too many past memories," I tell her.
I half expected her to ask what memories. I wished she wouldn't so I wouldn't have to lie to her. She didn't. She doesn't ask me anything. Rather, she wraps her arms around me and embraces me in a hug.
"I'm here for you. I don't know what horrors you've been through but I'm here for you."
I didn't realize how much I needed a hug until now. How much I desire a friend who won't judge me and accept me for who I am. And I have a feeling that today, with this small conversation, I gained a good friend.
"So he's intent on following you around now?" Shruti says over her steaming mug of coffee.
I hmm in response.
"Maybe we should let him."
I snap my head up at her words.
"See, I know you said that you don't prefer his company. But we can't very well get a restraining order against him. Legally he's still your husband. And if he's as influential as you say, then police wouldn't do much help either. So we should let him go around whatever this is about. When he doesn't get a response back, he'll get bored and simply leave you alone."
I mull over her thoughts and I conclude that she's not wrong.
The automatic doors close behind me. My eyes instantly latch with Vihaan's. It's been two months since his stalking spree started. Every morning he's waiting for me outside my apartment. He walks me to work. In the evenings, he walks me home. On weekends, he goes on runs with me, follows me to the supermarket and tries to hold heavy bags for me; which I don't allow.
I prohibited him from trying to talk to me. Yet, he tries to catch my attention and show me things that would, under normal circumstances, make me smile. Like a pretty flower, a beautiful sunset, an elderly couple celebrating their anniversary or a father laughing with his two children.
Every morning he tells me that I'm looking beautiful. And every night he asks me to give him one more chance. I haven't graced him with my words since the first day.
Not even that time when he paid for my ice cream. I was craving butterscotch and he insisted on paying. I gave the cone he paid for to a kid and bought another for myself with my own money.
In the past two months, the bags under his eyes have only grown and the exhaustion on his face has deepened. He looks like the spitting image of me in that house, only with much fewer red marks and fresh scars.
We reach my apartment building and he repeats the same words from every night.
"Please hear me out, baby. I know what I did was wrong on too many levels. Please give me one chance to make things right between us."
In the start, I didn't understand why he was being so persistent. Then I remembered that he was on thin ice. Our house was already up for sale and as soon as it was sold, Grandpa would throw the money at his face and get my divorce papers signed.
Vihaan doesn't have much time. That's the only reason he's been adamant. But now, I'm starting to question my theory.
The wind blows carrying a faint smell of soil in it.
It's going to rain.
He stays down every night. Sometimes only for some time, the other times for the entire time only going home at dawn. On the night he decides to spend down here, which does happen often much to my dismay, he sits under a tree creepily staring at my window.
I hope that it rains heavily tonight. Maybe that will make him run away.