.XVII.

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Present

Pembroke Castle, UK.

Jiya looks at her phone, searching for any more messages she had to reply to, before beginning to converse with Abir. He was acting weird, even when she told him about her and Harry. So she decides to find out what was going on his head. But somewhere deep down, she knew they had reached the ugly parts of their story, as Abir was now hesitant to let her know the details. She sympathises with him but that doesn't mean he has the right to hide anything from her.

"Abir, are you alright?" She asks directly, when he enters the room with a tray containing two cups of tea and few biscuits.
"Why wouldn't I be?" He frowns. He knew he was not in his best shape but was it too obvious!
"You seem a bit shaken. Does it have to do with the story or you're upset about something I said?" Abir stills, and looks at her now.
"Jiya, no. You've not done anything wrong. It's just something happened yesterday and-"
"Wait. It wasn't just a headache, was it?" Her question throws him off guard.

"Mishti's mother made a visit." Abir settles beside Jiya, handing her a cup.
"What for?" She asks, confused.
"Um, Kuhu didn't go to the US just for business purposes. She tracked down her location and met her. Radhika thought I had something to do with it, and I'd ruin her daughter's life again. So she stopped by to remind me that I had nothing to do with Mishti Maheshwari anymore." By the time he finishes narrating the details, Jiya is sullen.

"How could she accuse you like that! If anything, her daughter's life actually became better when you entered it. She's acting like she gives a damn about Mishti. Where was this motherly love when she took a divorce and put her daughter into misery?" Abir chuckles, patting her shoulder to calm her down.
"It's alright. A part of what she said is true. I kind of made her run away so, you can't blame her." Jiya now smacks his arm.
"Ow! Fine, I'll give context before announcing my opinion." He says.

And they begin to travel back, to the time when everything was alright.

2019

MM arts, Soho

London.

"There are not much productions this year, so we saw a stable income pitch. By next year, wind up everything and deliver the services to the producers as promised. The liabilities will be paid in the next 3-4 months." Mishti declared, whilst looking at the directors, disappointment and weariness written on each of their faces.
"Thank you for being a part of this organisation. The assets will be divided equally amongst you, so don't worry about your share." Her father snickered as her mother glared at him.

"Anything you want to add, Mr.Maheshwari?" She asked, placing the file she was referring, on the table.
"Don't you love to destroy something that's going too well, Mishti?" She smiled and turned her wheelchair, so she could see him clearly.
"Well, I've inherited that from my amazing parents. And I insist you address me formally, Mr.Maheshwari." Vishambar fumed, closing his fist.
"This company was set up to gain profits and run for a long term. Just because you're handicapped doesn't mean there aren't others who can handle it." Radhika stood up suddenly.

"I vote for winding up the firm." She announced, glaring at her husband.
"Thanks for that, but I'm the sole proprietor, so none of your votes are required." Mishti chuckled, shaking her head.
"Well Mr.Maheshwari, coming to your point, I'm not closing this business because my brain was in my legs and now it won't work anymore as it's paralysed. Thanks for the useless input." She faced the other directors.
"Anyone else want to waste my time? Good. Meeting's adjourned." Mishti began to exit the conference room.

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