Page 160 of Wasted Grace

“Fuckingfine! At least it’saftereveryone left!”

He relents and a genuine laugh escapes me. “I’m fine,Bhai. Honestly, I think... I’m ready.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “For...?”

I clear my throat. “Your offer. I’ve been scouting your bar for weeks. I think I’m in a place where I want to invest.”

He beams at me. “Really?Shit!I didn’t—are you sure? You weren’t very keen when I opened it.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t that. I was concerned that... being around alcohol would cause an issue. But I’ve never slipped. Not once.”

“I know you didn’t want to add to your list of things to worry about. My offer was... to give you some security. Astress-freeoption for your lifestyle.”

I nod somberly. “GenVault isn’t bad. It’s just... I’m planning to cut down my client list by at least 30%. After... everything? I just think I need somethingmorethan project fucking management.”

He laughs into his whiskey glass. “You think bar owners don’t do project management? I’m a former management consultant and it’s practically the same. With... added manual labor.”

I groan. “Fine. I get it. But at least I won’t be knee deep incybersecurity. It’s getting harder with all the new clientele GenVault gathered after the whole... trafficking thing. The glorification of the firm didn’t help.”

“Fuck! I can’t believe you were part of it, man. The day I saw that news—I was so proud of you.” He smiles, which suddenlymorphs into a smirk. “Are you sure Istillcan’t tell anyone about your involvement?”

“I’m sure, you idiot,” I deadpan.

He throws his head back and laughs. “C’mon brother! You literally brought the whole thing down.”

Memories cloud my mind. The year old pain, a gentle pulse in my ear. “Not just me. It was... a joint operation.”

His face falls immediately. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t—I was speaking out of my ass. I’m sorry.”

I give him a tired smile. Silence falls over us. He nervously takes another sip.

“Have you heard from her?” he asks.

I dazedly shake my head—my thoughts a million miles away. But right therewith her.

“I miss her,” I finally whisper after a beat. “I really,reallymiss her.”

He gives me a sad smile and nods solemnly. “Maybe... try dating again? If you’re at the bar all the time, I’m sure—”

“Not... not yet.”

“It’s time to move on,Bhai.”

A humorless chuckle forms. “If I didn’t in four and a half years, I doubt it’ll happen any time soon.”

He sighs. “Just... give it a thought.”

I nod reluctantly. Even though I have no intention to follow through. Not yet.

A few days after Diwali, I am all set to start working at Vikram’s bar plus restaurant lounge—High on Happy.

Happy—Khushiin English. When Vikram opened it five months ago, I was surprised by the name. It was a tribute that he couldn’t have told me about before. Back when he thought I didn’t remember our kid sister.

Now, he openly—proudly—admits it to me.

I smile as I enter. I’ve been here multiple times. But today feels different. Because I co-own it now.

A sense of pride flows through me. But a parallel sense of dread boxes me in—that I’m moving on.