Chapter 36

Vikram didn't answer immediately. He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to compose himself. Finally, he turned to face her, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation.

Lakshmi took a step back, seeing his reaction. He came closer to her, holding both her elbows. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice tight.

"What do you mean by, 'why are you here?'" she asked in return.

"Lakshmi, stop acting and answer me," he said sternly.

"What? You're the one who threatened me into coming here when I tried to quit!" she snapped, anger lacing her words.

"Lakshmi, enough. You are my queen, my love. I can't bear to see you sweeping floors like this. Your place is here, in my heart." He pointed to his chest, his voice softer now.

"Queen? Then why has your majesty been harassing me until yesterday?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Please, understand me. Yesterday was different. I thought you had cheated on me. But things have changed, Lakshmi. Try to understand." His tone became pleading.

Lakshmi scoffed. "If you truly loved me, you would have trusted me, no matter what. But instead, you believed your stepmother and started hating me. You chose to torment me." Her voice shook with the bitterness of her past pain.

"No," Vikram said, shaking his head vehemently. "I didn't believe my stepmother, or anyone else. I trusted you and waited for you all these years. I don't know where you were. How are you? Why did you leave? I've become an addict, waiting for you. I couldn't handle the truth that you weren't with me. I almost lost my life, my business, everything. You have no idea what I've been through."

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke. Lakshmi hated seeing him cry like this, but she couldn't afford to believe him again. Not after everything.

"But, Lakshmi," he continued, his voice breaking. "Didn't you trust me? You left me, just like that thinking I was a womanizer. Don't you know me?" He looked at her, desperation in his eyes.

"Just like that?!" Lakshmi's voice cracked. "Do you know how it feels to run away from the only place I've ever known? Do you know how my heart ached, knowing the only person I had in this world betrayed me, used me, and left me? Do you have any idea what it was like? I struggled to earn every meal! I didn't even have proper food when I was pregnant. There was no one to fulfill my cravings. Sleeping without hunger was a blessing, let alone getting to eat what I craved. Do you know how badly my back ached during my pregnancy? But I worked until my due date! You speak as if only you have suffered, but you have no idea what I've been through!" Her voice trembled, the weight of her words sinking in.

Vikram's heart broke as he listened to her pain. Without thinking, he pulled her toward him and hugged her tightly. Lakshmi, too, broke down in his arms, not resisting the embrace. Her tears soaked his shirt.

"Lakshmi," Vikram whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not either of our faults. It was all because of her. Please, let's not let her make us suffer any longer. Think about our son. Don't let her win."

Lakshmi pushed him away with slight force. Vikram stumbled backward, steadying himself by grabbing the table behind him.

"Enough," she said, her voice cold, yet filled with a deep pain.

"What if I come with you now? What if your father finds out about me and my son?" Lakshmi's voice trembled as she spoke. "Your stepmother threatened me that day. She said your father would kill me and my child if he ever found out. I can't risk my life again, not when I have my son to protect. I don't trust you, and above all, I don't trust your family. People like me can never win against people like you.

So, please, just let us be." She joined her hands in a pleading gesture, her eyes filled with desperation, and turned to leave.

Vikram was stunned into silence. Her words cut deep, but he understood her fear. Anyone in her position would feel the same. As she walked away, he finally found his voice. "Lakshmi, stop," he said firmly. "You can leave, and you don't need to work here anymore."

Lakshmi froze, surprised by his sudden change of tone. She nodded slowly, her expression wary.

"But don't think you can go work somewhere else," he added, leaning against the table behind him, his voice calm but firm.

Lakshmi spun around, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What?"

"Yes," he said, his gaze dropping to the floor. "You should stay home and take care of our son. I don't want my wife working for anyone else. And stop going to that cooking job too. But you can continue your tailoring work at home."

Lakshmi's breath hitched. "How do you know about my cooking and tailoring work?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Vikram looked up, his eyes locking onto hers. "Lakshmi, I know everything about you," he said, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.

Her hands clenched into fists. "If I don't work, how will I survive? I'm not rich like you," she snapped, her anger flaring.

"Lakshmi, that was before," he said, his voice steady. "Now, you have a husband to take care of you. So, listen to me and rest. And I'm not asking you—I'm warning you. You know me well enough. Don't act smart."

Lakshmi glared at him, her eyes blazing with defiance. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. She went to the staffroom, gathered her belongings, and bid a quick goodbye to her coworkers before leaving for home.

After she left, Vikram sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He knew it wouldn't be easy to erase her trauma or win back her love and trust. But he was determined to try. First, I need to get closer to my son, he thought. A small smile tugged at his lips as he imagined the boy's face—so innocent, so much like his own.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and glanced at his watch. There was much to do, but for now, he had a plan. He would take it one step at a time, starting with the most important thing, his family.

A few hours passed, and Vikram checked the time. He got up from his chair, grabbed his coat, and made his way to the car park. After getting into his car, he drove out of the office building. A short while later, he reached his destination. He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out, his eyes scanning the modest government school building ahead.

As he approached the entrance, the watchman stood up from his chair, eyeing Vikram from head to toe. The man's expression was a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "Sir, what do you want?" he asked cautiously.

"My son studies here. I'm here to pick him up," Vikram replied, his tone calm but firm.

The watchman's eyes widened in surprise. This was a government school, attended mostly by children from underprivileged families. He couldn't hide his astonishment at the thought of someone like Vikram having a son here. He glanced at the clock and said hesitantly, "Sir, there's still some time before the final bell rings."

"I know," Vikram said, his voice steady. "Let me in. I need to speak to his teacher."

The watchman hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. "Okay, sir," he said, stepping aside to let Vikram pass.

Vikram entered the school and walked down the corridor, his eyes scanning the boards outside each classroom as he searched for Kittu's class. When he finally found it, a small smile tugged at his lips. He gently knocked on the door and peeked inside.

The teacher, who had just instructed the children to pack their bags, looked up at him. "Yes? How can I help you?" she asked, her tone polite but guarded.

"Good evening, ma'am," Vikram said with a respectful nod. "I'm Kittu's father. I'm here to pick him up."

The teacher's eyebrows shot up in surprise. In all her time teaching Kittu, she had only ever seen Rashi or, on rare occasions, Lakshmi come to pick him up. She glanced at Vikram's expensive attire, her suspicion growing. She turned to Kittu, who was sitting on the floor, playing with his friends.

"Kittu," she called out, "is this man your father?"

Kittu looked up, his eyes widening as they landed on Vikram. For a moment, he seemed unsure, but then he nodded slowly. "Yes, ma'am," he said in a small voice.

The teacher turned back to Vikram, her expression softening. "Alright, sir. You can take him with you."

Vikram smiled gratefully and stepped into the classroom. He bent down, scooping Kittu into his arms and grabbing his bag with his other hand. As he straightened, his gaze swept across the room. His heart ached at the sight of the children sitting on the floor, their small faces bright with innocence. He felt a pang of guilt and pity, not just for Kittu but for all the children who deserved better.

After bidding goodbye to the teacher and Kittu's friends, Vikram carried him out of the classroom. But as they stepped into the corridor, Kittu grew uneasy. He squirmed in Vikram's arms, his small voice trembling as he said, "Put me down."

Vikram paused, looking down at his son. He could see the fear in Kittu's eyes, the memory of the previous day's events still fresh in his mind. The way Vikram had made Lakshmi cry had clearly left an impression on the boy.

"Kittu," Vikram said gently, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's okay. I'm your father. We'll go for a ride, come"

But Kittu shook his head, his small hands pushing against Vikram's chest. "Put me down," he repeated, his voice firmer this time.

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