Chapter 16.1 – Mistake

|| 16. PAIZE 1 ♥ ||

Inhaling that thought Mohana paused from staring at the grandioseness to remind herself: designer toothbrushes would never be her reality. Closing the drawer on a slight shiver, she frowned deeply, gaining the knowledge of yet another woman in his life.

“Like I can even care. I have my own toothbrush. And am not the crazy woman he thinks I am, I might be saving my salary but I won’t stoop so low as to steal his belongings” she nearly choked on her words, her conscious threatening the ironic claim, reminding her of his leather jacket she had snared from the airplane

Acknowledging the rightful owner of the black tshirt skimming her thighs, she adamantly lifted the woven fabric to glance at the black lace panties, her cheeks perfusing with color “But these are mine”

Having heard women in the university talk about pain of first times after pursuing their passionate acts, Mohana was unable to equate them to her feelings of being cold and exceptionally dizzy.

Touching her freezing thighs, the buzzing recollection of the detailed contractual agreement, his hesitation for leaving her alone in the washroom, all came together to finally resonate: a man as handsome as Omar Shaan, superiorly smart, world renowned achiever, the most magnificent man dreams were made out of, wouldn’t ever choose to want her on his bed

On a swallow she clutched hard at her tshirt, frowning at the question rattling through her head: Why would Omar Shaan ever consider spending a night with her?

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes landed on her flat abdomen. Fear which had been bottled up flowed through, tearing her heart apart “..getting knocked up was your mother’s trick to the riches and your father lived through the guilt of that mistake which lasted him these many years. You are colorless just like these hollow eyes your mother gave you, a cold and sad gold digger that nobody wants, including your own parents. The world would be a better place without a hideous witch like you, who’s life should have been finished right at the start..

Raking a wavered breath, Mohana rapidly blinked her glassy eyes, not wanting to shed a tear in self pity for the atrocity she had committed by taking advantage of the designer celebrity. Drenched in shame, ignoring her shudders, she rehearsed to herself “I can’t want him for real. He’s just a fabrication of my mind. His attention is sorted. He’ll only ever want his.. I don’t care whoever it is..”

Distressed at her irresponsible behavior, she tearlessly broke down “..he will get married one day, stay in those honeymoon suites, have tons of babies but none of that can matter to me and this baby inside of me. Because he is not mine, he was never mine. Nothing matters. Nothing matters at all. Because nothing belongs to me, except my own hard work..” covering her face in her palms Mohana fell on the marble floor “..only my dreams are mine. only my dreams”

Scrambling from the floor, trying to put the pieces of her broken heart together like it was an everyday occurrence, Mohana readied herself, repeating her stand over and over again: Sophista was the only thing that would ever exist between them, her misdeeds and the conceived baby were only her responsibility, Omar Shaan was a celebrity who could have his pick of any number of women he wanted, who much better deserved his luxurious toothbrushes

Through years of attempting to override her incessant desire of Omar Shaan, adamant to evade his existence, Mohana had painstakingly blocked all knowledge about the designer celebrity, restraining herself from garnering anymore than was necessary for her role as the editor-in-chief of Sophista.

Despite her every effort to maintain indifference, the chockfull of feeds on Omar Shaan from the networks, media outlets and at times her own journal covering various community engagements, socialite events, led to ample hints on his latest affairs and famed playboy lifestyle. The constant refresh of women parading for his attention always found their way to leave a tumultuous ruckus within her.

“Keep it simple. We can’t talk, we can’t meet, we can’t see each other” mumbling the conviction for the umpteenth time, leaving her hair to air dry, Mohana reached for her robe almost habitually. Slipping on the pink silken garment, she tightened the sash around her waist, determined to mend whatever she could of the cruel reality she had created for her dream man.

Wanting to leave at the earliest, she made a hurried dash from the washroom, only for her heartache to escalate at banging into the wall of steel, except on this occasion it was still shirtless. Beyond sulking on his experienced reflexes to catch her and the extreme rattling he induced, Mohana was yet again left to wonder about her own lack of directional intelligence every time she was around him.

Grabbing hold of her upper arms, his eyes roved through her completely whitewashed face, growl vibrating through her “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. We can’t talk, we can’t meet, we can’t see each other” she delivered her planned stance, quickly easing from his hold to step beyond, frantically turning the tail end of the robe sash

The barrier of his arm across her waist not only halted her fidgeting, but also ascertained the end of their discussion contrary to her hope, was not accepted. Doubtfully glancing at her, reducing the distance between them, Omar lightly ran his fingers on the wet ends of her hair “For how long?”

His enquiry took her by surprise, she blinked in confusion, finding herself getting blanketed in his warmth “However long there is?”

Shy eyes hesitantly looked up to see his orbs only to find them still strikingly black with no sparkle of her desired glitter “You went through a phase of endless freezing shudders and you are shivering again. I won’t have you fall into the same cycle. You will tell me right now what’s bothering you and I get that out of our way”

The undertones of threat in his demand made her consciously shift but holding herself back from giving in to his luring touch and the tempting power of his words she ascertained “There’s nothing. You don’t have to do anything. I mean.. I.. I am responsible. uh we can talk to my attorney? but this. it won’t happen again. not with you. not at all. If I can get my clothes? I’ll figure the way from here. I have to go home”

“Says who?” Omar grumbled, his grip on her arms hardening

Finding herself at a disadvantage to the strange feelings his touch ignited, Mohana clenched harder on her robe, attempting to ignore the rush of warmth spreading through her “Me?”

“Sure, then you can try explaining again. And this time skip the attorney part” despite his brisk tone, no measure of self control was able to curb her butterflies from causing a merry havoc of their own

“But my attorney..” Mohana gulped, looking at the hard eyes boring into hers, her voice quivered running a correction “ but I. no. I won’t ruin things. publicly. because I understand your whole celebrity aspect and how legal involvement can make it appear. I didn’t mean it like that, I was only considering it for the power of justice. for you. if we wanted that. But I understand, if you could trust me? my dad and mom. they. I. I was a mistake and I know how sensitive these things can get”

“Kyber and Dahlia Sood made a mistake by having you? Anyone would have a field day on this make belief their daughter is running around with. Since how long have you been thinking about this stupidity?” disbelief trickled through his words, yet his face was stoic, eyes busy trying to read her face

Her heart bounced wanting to believe the contradiction Omar had voiced for it ran in complete sync to her own hope. Every time she met her parents, read about their social interactions or picked on the countless mentions from the media praising their partnership, it made it all the more difficult to accept their ways had parted.

“It’s not information that’s sold to tabloids for everyone to read. My dad won’t ever allow that..” Mohana rattled before coming to realize he had spoken aloud the names of her parents “ do you know my mom, dad?”

“If anyone sensibly eats their food, which I am sure nearly most do, likely leaving you as one of the rare few exceptions, how feasible would it be for them to not know about Rauchos? Only last weekend your parents were on the Choice interview as a couple, very much together” Omar smugly provided, appearing much closer

Keeping work as the center of her universe, Mohana had learnt to effectively overlook the privileged attachment to her dad’s business empire, although expecting others to ignore her familial ties to the giant business which ruled the entire food market did not seem as justified.

Staring at his shirtless chest, extremely conscious of her own wrongful behavior for having taken his advantage, Mohana corrected her stance, trying to increase distance between their torsos “Exactly my point. You are a celebrity superstar, you know the difference between showbiz and reality. I’ll eat when am at my place after.. uhm the clothes?”

“If you are certain..” scooping her in his arms, contrary to the storm brewing inside of her, Omar just as casually checked “..what do you feel like wearing?”

Shyly moving in his arms, cheeks burning at his proximity, she rushed “Whatever? I was wearing? If you want, I can walk? myself?”

“Why?” his query made her lips part then get pursed nervously. Short of covering her legs, the silk robe offered no barrier to his forearm brushing under her thighs, while his hand sprawled on her waist had the entire army of butterflies aligning for his attention

She attempted a sound reasoning “Because uh. there’s a possibility that I can be very heavy”

On a low hum of consideration, Omar lightly bounced the petite woman in his arms making her instinctively hide her face on his chest, fists tightening on the thin robe. Heaving a dramatic sigh he murmured “Right. Very. But it is required”

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