“Babe! Why are you pi***ed at me? Did I do something wrong?”
Jinal stared in disbelief at the puny man in a bow tie and beach shorts, who was her boyfriend. At least Instagram said so.
“Nothing,” she replied, hands on her slim waist, looking over his head. At 5ft 10 inches without her stilettos on, she towered over most men. And most did not like it.
But Orry was different. He was secure in his own space. She was just not sure what that space was, anymore.
“I don’t believe you. You have not liked our pic from our vacation in the Bahamas.”
“Did I not? Must be a recent one,” Jinal bit her upper lip.
“Babe, I posted it like aeons ago! Right before breakfast. It is lunchtime already.”
Jinal had zoned out by now…
She could hear the thumping beats at the disc. The dancefloor was on fire, each tapping foot lighting up the tile underneath. And in the sea of sloshed faces, Jinal saw him: a goofy smile playing on his lips. A fish in water. Albeit, with a smartphone for a permanent fixation.
Orry, the maverick hashtag maker. The man with the Midas touch, as far as Insta posts went. The Espresso Martini to her Margharita. The bag of captioned contradictions.
The robotic lights played cupid, and the electricity in the Miami air sent sparks flying. And just like that, Jinal Patel, the billionaire heiress became a part of Orry’s world. As with everything related to Orry, the world wondered: Why?
The hangover wore off, but the hook-up lasted. Matured, by Jinal’s standards anyway. After all the money-leeching sycophants she had dated, she had found her grasshopper. Hopping from one party to another. From Monaco to Morocco. From rave parties to book club readings. From kickboxing sessions to pottery classes.
No butterflies in her tummy. It was more like a chocolate truffle. But it could be Wasabi sauce the next day. And a comforting chicken soup the day after.
They made a mean team. The ‘It’ couple, the omnipresent ones! ‘Papped’ at events across the planet. Theirs was a deeper kind of love, that extended beyond cute, filtered pictures. It ran all over the comments, and the replies to those comments.
And then, on a lazy pajamas-and-glutenfree-instant-keto-noodles-kind-of-day, she had captioned a picture of theirs- The glamorous gall to his liver.
He had beamed contentedly at her, “I could do this all my life- you, me and our little ones!”
Swept off her feet! She had been moonwalking for a fortnight. Right until she saw his recent reel, with another girl tagged #morethanjustfriends!
Jinal came to her senses, with a throbbing headache in the background.
“Did you not propose to me? You, me and our little ones?”
“What are you talking about? I meant you, me, and the little captions we make up. Babe, you got it all wrong. But remember, Orry is not sorry!”