Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Sam couldn't help staring at the man's naked back, shock and disbelief quickly replacing hurt as the words sank in. Her cheeks flamed at the regret that seemed to drip from him in waves. Combined with the jumble of his words, she felt as though a tight band had suddenly wrapped itself around her chest and was squeezing tight.

Seconds ticked by, yet Ryan made no move to answer. He merely stood there turned away from her as though the sight of her naked body had become something abhorrent, looking like a bereaved Greek god, the muscles on back taut with tension, arms hanging straight down his sides, fingers clenched into fists.

The silence stretched, meanwhile, two words ricocheted in Sam's brain.

You're engaged.

What the actual hell? She stiffened, fingers digging into the soft leather of the couch, as she struggled to make sense of the topsy turvy situation.

"What do mean, by engaged?" She asked, keeping her eyes on him.

Ryan turned to look at her, his expression a mix of guilt and confusion.

"Sam, I know you have a fiancé." He replied. "And, I don't know what kind of agreement you have with the guy, but we shouldn't have done this. It

"I do?" Instinctively, she glanced down at her hand, but she'd stopped wearing Zahir's engagement ring ages ago, and the skin where the band had circled her finger had darkened and blended in with the rest.

His eyes followed the movement and narrowed. "Not everyone chooses to wear one."

What the hell was he talking about?

"Wait," She rubbed at her temples, feeling the first stirrings of what promised to be a massive migraine. "You think I'm engaged? What on earth gave you the idea?"

This was getting weirder by the second. She racked her brain, trying to come up with an instance where the issue of engagement stemmed from, but for the life of her, she couldn't. Unless...she remembered him saying he'd done some research on her, but even then, wouldn't he know that Zahir was no longer alive?

Now Ryan looked even more confused. He searched her face, as though hoping to find evidence…of what exactly?

"The other day, in the office," he said, deep in thought. "You mentioned a fiancé."

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

"The first day we met," he clarified, sinking onto a chair, his gaze never wavering from hers. "You helped me with my tie and when I asked how you…"

"I said my fiance taught me." Sam finished, realization dawning at that moment. She clearly remembered that moment now, the sweet torture of being so close to the man who'd featured in her dreams for the past year, the alluring assault on her senses, while she'd struggled to maintain her poise and even as her knees turned to jelly.

She also remembered Ryan's astonishment when she mentioned Zahir had taught her how to knot a tie. But then, Lola had come in and…

Her eyes widened, and she stared at him open-mouthed. "So, all this while, you thought I was in a relationship?"

"You're not?" He looked just as stunned as she felt.

"No." She confirmed. Feeling self-conscious, she stood and picked up her dress where he'd tossed it on the carpet. She spied her panties nearby and scooped it up, filled with a need to leave.

Her face burned as a horrible thought dropped. He had assumed her to be promiscuous.

"But, you said…" he trailed off, seeming to recall that she'd never given him a response. "Ah hell, Sam…"

"So, all this while, you've thought I was one of those women who cheat on their partners?" She broke in, her whole body flush with mortification. "That's why you really kissed me in the elevator, wasn't it? To prove I was no better than you."

"Fuck, no!" He jumped to his feet and came to stand in front of her. "I already told you, I was angry at myself and lost control."

He reached out to grasp her shoulders, but she flinched away, unable to bear his touch for fear of her tightly wound emotions coming unraveled.

"And tonight?" She tilted her head to look up at him. "That's why you asked about that guy, wasn't it? And when I said he was someone I just met, you thought I was open to that sort of thing. That's why this happened?"

She swept a hand to indicate the couch and saw the flash of guilt that crossed his face, silently confirming her words.

"I see." And she did see the entire painful truth at that moment. She recalled the very first time she'd seen him, drunk and in emotional pain. From his ramblings then, she'd pieced together clues that indicated his fiancee had cheated on him with another man.

Thinking her engaged, he probably thought she was cut from the same mold, and therefore, was worth nothing in his eyes.

"Sam, I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse and filled with a sincere apology, but for Sam, that only made it hurt worse.

She pulled on her panties and bra and slipped the dress over her head, tugging it down with jerky movements while fighting down the sting in her eyes, the urge to crawl under a rock and hide somewhere until she was free of embarrassment.

He was right. This had been a mistake that should never have happened. She should have listened to her brain and walked away when she had a chance.

At least, her dignity would still be intact.

"It's obvious there's been some miscommunication." She kept her eyes down, as she talked. "So, there’s no point trying to apologize for thinking the way you did. But you’re right, this was a big mistake, and should never have happened.”

But it had, and there was no point in crying over spilled milk. She just had to figure out a way to put it behind her, and not let things get too awkward when they had to face each other at work.

He sighed, and looked exhausted, shoulders drooping as he picked up his shirt, now hopelessly crumpled from being under her body. Ignoring the creases, he slipped it on, and reached for his jacket, while she busied herself trying to smooth down her disheveled hair.

They dressed in awkward silence. Sam slipped on her shoes and made a beeline for the door, slipping out into the walkway. She leaned against the cool glass and shut her eyes for a moment.

“There you are!” She opened her eyes to see Dee hurrying towards her, wearing a wide, goofy grin. Not wanting to get into any lengthy explanations, Sam schooled her expression, pasting what she hoped was a calm smile.

Dee’s eyes ran over Sam, taking in the hopelessly rumpled state and her eyes twinkled. Mercifully, she didn’t anything, just hooked her arm through Sam’s and steered them towards the stairs.

Relieved to be spared the inquisition, for now, Sam let herself be led, squelching the urge to look back.

Once outside the club, she took several deep breaths to clear her head, while Dee searched for a taxi. Mercifully, an empty one pulled up and both girls scrambled into the heated interior.

The minute they were on the move, Dee turned to Sam, eyes alight with the fires of inquisition. “Tell me everything.”

Sam flushed and turned to look out the window, managing a careless shrug. “It was okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?” Dee sounded incredulous. “Don’t you dare tell me that’s all you’re going to say about the fact that you finally got hot and heavy with your crush. I need the deets, woman. How did it happen? Who made the first move?”

She glanced at the driver, who was obviously pretending not to listen in and lowered her voice. “Carrot or cucumber?”

Despite her dark thoughts, Sam’s lips twitched at the analogy. Trust Dee to use food to describe a man’s dick. “Can we at least get back to your place first? We don’t want to scar the poor driver.”

“Pssh! I’m sure he’s heard worse.” To prove her point, Dee tapped the man on the shoulder and asked. “You have, haven’t you?”

“Oh my god, Deepti!” Sam exclaimed in disbelief,

The driver’s lips twitched and he met their gaze through the rear mirror. “Oh, definitely much worse.”

“See?” Dee gestured at him in triumph. “But, fine. I’ll try not to die of curiosity before we get home.”

Was it her, or did the driver look disappointed? Still, Sam was grateful for the reprieve. Dee fished out her phone and busied herself texting someone, Yash most likely, and Sam took the opportunity to lean her head against the cool glass of the window and shut her eyes as she tried to forget the unfortunate event of the evening.

At Dee’s apartment, she put off the questioning, by taking another shower, this one longer than earlier, in hopes that Dee would get bored waiting and fall asleep before she was done. As the scalding hot water washed away traces of Ryan’s touch, Sam leaned her head against the tiles and fought back tears.

There would be no more bouts of self-pity. And absolutely no more chances of such a stupid mistake ever happening again. Much as she wanted to blame Ryan for the events of tonight, she had to be brutally honest and admit he’d given her a chance to walk away and she hadn’t. Still, it hurt to know he’d had such a low opinion of her in the first place, even though it was just a misunderstanding.

She sighed and turned off the water. Fortunately, when she wandered back into the bedroom, Dee was already fast asleep. She slipped into the over sized T-shirt Dee had thoughtfully left out for her, and climbed in beside her friend

Her phone vibrated and she picked it up from the nightstand to squint at the screen. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when she saw the name on the screen. With hesitant fingers, she opened the message.

Are you okay?

She studied the words until the letters began to swim before her eyes. Such a simple question, yet it carried a wealth of meaning. She knew he wasn’t just asking after her well being, he wanted to know if things were good between them. For long, indecisive moments, she pondered on what to send, finally settling with one word.

Yes.

She hit send and waited, the phone held in a crushing grip. She saw the delivery notification, and moments later, three little dots appeared below his name.

The dots bounced for a time, and Sam held her breath as she waited. Just when she was about to pass out from a lack of oxygen, his message popped up.

Sweet dreams, Princess.