Meanwhile, 10 kms away in a three star motel,
Vijay had taken Arya straight to a nearby three-star motel. She was barely conscious, drunk out of her mind, mumbling Rohit's name with every unsteady step.
He felt a spike of irritation every time Arya whispered Rohit's name. Even in her drunken state, she couldn't stop calling for him. As if the humiliation on the dance floor wasn't enough — Rohit was still inside her head.
What the fuck is wrong with this bitch? Vijay thought bitterly.
They weren't even real couples — they had been raised as siblings. Even if they weren't blood-related, she should have some fucking shame. They had lived in the same house for years like brother and sister. Yet here she was, moaning his adopted brother's name like he was her damn soulmate.
