Smiling Devil: Rage Chapter - 3

The next day, Pravin and Indu were sitting side by side, trying to resolve a bug on the website. As they focused on the code, Indu suddenly spoke up, “Pravin, do you remember the guy at the bar yesterday?”

Pravin looked up, wary. “The one who misbehaved with you?” Indu nodded and leaned closer. “Yeah… you know what happened to him?”

Pravin already had an inkling of what she would say, but he listened anyway, like a child feigning ignorance. He shook his head.

Indu’s voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in. “He… died.” Pravin froze, his mind racing. Then, putting on a shocked act, he exclaimed loudly, “What are you saying?!”

Indu placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him. “Keep your voice down. I saw it on the news. He fell from the top of a building… maybe an accident, maybe an overdose of alcohol. The police were investigating.”

Pravin continued his performance, disbelief and incredulity mixing in his voice. “This is… shocking. The guy who misbehaved with you… dead today? Did you have anything to do with it?” Indu shot him a knowing look, her eyes calm, almost teasing.

Pravin smiled, brushing off the tension. “I’m just joking. Leave it… maybe it was divine punishment for his actions.” Indu chuckled softly. “If that’s true, then I should thank God for that.”

Pravin’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “But Indu, what if… he was killed by someone?” Indu shrugged lightly. “Well, maybe the person had a personal grudge against that drunkard. But still… I’d thank that person too.”

Later that night, Pravin stood in his living hall, punching a sandbag, letting every ounce of his anger and frustration explode with each hit. As his fists collided with the bag, Indu’s words replayed in his mind. A slow smile crept across his face, and he stopped, the rage giving way to a strange satisfaction.

Eventually, Pravin lay on his bed, phone in hand. He scrolled through photos of Indu, his eyes soft and innocent as he lingered on each image. He had carefully organized a folder just for her pictures. Watching them brought a quiet joy he couldn’t explain.

When he reached the last photo, he gently set his phone on his chest and took a deep breath. A serene, almost innocent smile settled on his face, lingering in the quiet darkness of his room.

The next day, Pravin stood outside the office, dressed in full formal attire. Every second stretched endlessly; he could hear the thump of his own heartbeat, feel a dull ache in his feet, and taste the nervous tension lingering in his throat.

Then, across the street, he saw her—Indu—walking toward the office. Blue denim jeans, crisp white shirt tucked neatly. Every step she took seemed to slow time. As she reached the entrance, Pravin stepped forward, his voice tight. “Indu.”

She turned, startled. “Hey, Pravin! What a surprise! Why are you waiting outside?” He swallowed hard, words catching in his throat. “Well… it’s like this… Can you spare… fifteen minutes? I need to tell you something.”

A few minutes later, they sat across from each other in a quiet corner of a nearby coffee shop. The world outside faded—the hum of traffic, the chatter of other patrons, everything drowned in the tension between them. Pravin’s hands shook slightly on the table; Indu’s gaze was steady, sharp, yet unreadable, as if she could sense the storm brewing inside him.

“Pravin,” she said softly, leaning in, “you said you wanted to tell me something. What is it?”

He took a deep breath, the air heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah… that’s what I want to say.” His eyes flicked to hers, searching, desperate. “Before I start… Indu, you know me. I’m an orphan. For me, family has always been a dream… living a life with people who care, who love me… I’ve never had that. I’ve never known that feeling fully.”

He paused, swallowing, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… when I see you, I feel my life could be complete. I’ve fallen for you completely. I don’t know what it is about you, but… I know this—you’re the one. I love you, Indu. I’ve held this feeling for so long… take all the time you need to think about it. I’ll wait.”

Indu’s breath caught. Her eyes softened, but a storm of emotions flickered across her face—surprise, confusion, something deeper she couldn’t name. Pravin’s chest tightened as he saw her reaction.

“What’s wrong, Indu?” His voice cracked slightly, panic lacing his words. “Are you okay? Did I… say something wrong?”

The room seemed to shrink around them. Every sound—the clink of cups, the distant cars—faded. All that existed was the charged silence between them, the fragile heartbeat of a confession hanging in the air.

Indu looked at him, her eyes calm but heavy with unspoken feelings. “No… you just told me what’s in your heart. That’s not wrong. It’s just… something else.” Pravin hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Something else… what do you mean?”

She drew a slow breath, as if preparing to unveil a piece of her soul. “I… I can’t love anyone else. My heart… it belongs to someone already.”

Her eyes drifted to the table between them, distant yet intense. “Years ago, I was in a relationship with a man named Vedant. We met in college. First, we were friends… then it turned into love. Everything seemed perfect, except… his possessiveness. Vedant was so controlling—I couldn’t speak freely, couldn’t meet people without him questioning me. He even checked my social media. I know it was his way of showing love… but it felt like being trapped. And still… I loved him.”

Her hands trembled slightly, gripping the edge of the table. “Then one day, he said he needed to pause our relationship. He wanted to focus on his career. I tried to make him understand… pleaded with him not to leave. But he insisted, and he broke up with me. Three years have passed… and he’s never returned. Everyone says I should move on… but my heart won’t let me. I’m sorry, Pravin. I can’t return your feelings.”

Pravin’s chest tightened, a silent ache spreading through him. His love, raw and desperate, clashed with the reality of hers. He didn’t know what to say. Words caught in his throat, but he forced a smile—gentle, pained, and understanding. “He will come back someday,” Pravin said softly. “I wish you all the happiness… with him.”

They walked back to the office in silence. Pravin buried himself in work, speaking to no one, his calm, composed smile masking the turmoil within. Indu watched him from across the room, her heart heavy. She knew the pain he had endured—but there was nothing she could do.

Even at lunch, he remained the same: focused, distant, controlled. Observing him this way unsettled her. She realized the suffering he carried silently, and it frightened her.

When office hours ended, she waited near the gate. Pravin emerged, his posture as composed as ever. She called softly, “Pravin.”

He stopped, turning toward her. “Pravin… are you really okay?” she asked, concern threading her voice. He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yes… I’m fine.”

Indu shook her head, unconvinced. “No… something’s not right. After everything this morning, you don’t seem sad… or affected. You’re different.”

Pravin’s smile softened, gentle but steady. “Actually… I’m happy. There are people who betray even in relationships, even after marriage. But you… you’re a rare gem, waiting for your love. That makes the other guy the luckiest man alive. Compared to my love, yours… is far greater.”

Indu felt her chest tighten, a rush of emotions threatening to spill. “And you?” she whispered. He exhaled slowly, the faintest shadow of vulnerability passing over his face. “I’ll be okay. Maybe a day or two of sadness, but I’ll survive. I have to go now… bye.”

Indu nodded, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before they parted. Each carried their own quiet emotions as they went their separate ways, the evening settling around them with unspoken understanding.

Later, Pravin sat alone on the train, staring out the window. On the surface, he had told himself he was fine, but inside, he was shattered. His love, fragile and long-held, felt irreparably broken. He knew there was nothing he could do—yet the pain gnawed at him relentlessly.

The next day, both Pravin and Indu were absent from the office. The workplace hummed with its usual rhythm—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, colleagues rushing between calls and meetings, the sound of productivity filling every corner.

Suddenly, Rhea’s phone rang. She glanced at the number, then answered hesitantly. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was calm, yet carried a weight of grim news. “Hello, my name is Rohan. I’m Indu’s neighbor. Sorry to bother you, but your friend Indu… she died yesterday.” Rhea froze, disbelief washing over her. “What… what are you saying?”

Rohan continued, steady and precise. “Yes… she fell from the top floor of a building last night. I wanted to inform you. Her funeral will be held tomorrow at GH Society, Vile Parle. Kindly inform your office colleagues as well.”

Rhea’s hand trembled as she held the phone. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Y-yes…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She ended the call, unable to fully comprehend the words she had just heard. Slowly, her colleagues noticed her trembling, the sorrow spreading across her face, and gathered around, their concern mixing with the shock she felt.