31

Merry Christmas 🎄

-• let it happen •-

Taranya

He said no.

He rejected me.

And he was straightforward with it. He didn't hesitate, didn't take a moment to consider the offer. He straight up rejected me. Normally, I should have felt hurt, embarrassed, maybe even pathetic. Except, I didn't feel any of it. In fact, I'm happy. I'm relieved. His no was more profound than the yes I expected. His no earned my trust, albeit only little, perhaps not even the significant amount, but enough to make me look at him with respect.

He was right.

His love is different.

And that doesn't make it any less real.

It's overwhelming. And slightly scary. I was adamant to call it anything but love. Because I was afraid. The man had accepted night as his home. I didn't want to believe he could foster anything beautiful in that darkness. But I was wrong. His love is akin to a moonflower. Of course it'd bloom in the night.

My phone lets out a shrill noise, startling me a little.

I stop folding the laundry and grab my phone from the table, moving towards the window for better reception. Network is shit here. My eyes locate the figure working in the garden and I smile. For a man who knows nothing about gardening, he sure is efficient at his work.

I answer the call and press the phone to my ear. "Took you long enough to call me."

"Sorry, Tara, I had no idea the life of a writer could be so hectic." She grumbles. "I envisioned myself sitting in the backyard and writing on my laptop while my children and husband play in the garden."

I look back at Shourya and smile.

A voice shuns me instantly when I imagine him with our kids.

What the fuck, Tara.

"But no, that's far from reality." She mutters in disappointment.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. It's like I'm on a spree of rejections. No publishing house is considering my work worth a glance, and those who do, have entitlement so far up their arse that they basically want me to change the entire plot."

"Maybe try self publishing. Isn't that in trends these days?"

She snorts. "Do you have any idea how tough self-publishing is? From editing, designing a cover, to publishing and marketing, everything will be my responsibility. And you know I'm shit at multitasking."

"You are."

"Thank you." She says sarcastically. "Anyway, self-publishing is not for me. I already have student loans to pay. I can't waste all of my savings in my first book and rely on my luck to make it a hit."

"Let's try calming down first," I say softly.

She takes a deep breath. "Enough of me. Tell me about you. What's happening in your married life? Any hope for the future?"

"He lied to me."

"Lied about what?" She asks.

"Lied about the reasons he has to marry me."

"Oh," she responds. "Again?"

I chuckle mirthlessly. "Yeah, again." I slide a finger over the window grills, glancing at him every other second. He's busy patting the mud in the pot, frowning with concentration.

"Did you confront him?"

I hum.

"What did he say?"

"He told me that he loves me."

Janet gasps. "No!"

"Yeah," I nod. "He was certain I wouldn't care about his situation. And he didn't want to marry Niharika."

"Do you believe him?"

"I didn't."

"Didn't?" She catches up quick.

"Yeah, didn't. Now I do. Unfortunately, I do."

She sighs. "So, you feel the same for him?"

"No," my answer is clear.

"Does it at least make you happy?"

"What?"

"Him loving you. Does the realisation makes you happy?"

I nibble on my lower lip. "A little."

"Aw, don't be sad."

I exhale shakily. "I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

"No, you're not." She vehemently disagrees. "Who doesn't want to feel special, Tara? You're not wrong to be feeling happy that he loves you. And from what I noticed at the wedding, he looks at you like you're his entire world. I'm a writer, Tara, I imagine myself writing books about undying, blazing, passionate love, and let me tell you, his is one of them. Imagine the intensity with which he feels for you, how could you not feel special?"

I sniffle. "But he hurt me so many times."

"Yeah, he did." She agrees. "And you're right to be angry at him for every wrong he has done to you. But that doesn't mean you can suddenly shut off your feelings. You can be hurt, and you can still love. Isn't that what makes love so powerful? To sustain the wreck, and still survive with the cracks."

I hum.

"Don't think about it much, Tara. What has to happen, will happen. If he's the one for you, he'll prove himself to be worthy of you. Let it happen. Let the wind decide its course. You just sit and enjoy the breeze."

"You're right." I mumble. Since the heavy feeling is still weighing me down, I decide to change the subject. "By the way, welcome back. It feels like I'm talking to my best friend again."

She chuckles. "I'm sorry. I know I was acting weird lately."

"You were," I agree. "I think you're trying a little too hard to be an adult, Janet. And I understand you don't like to fail. But sometimes, it's okay. The world is not going to turn its back on you. You won't be condemned and criticised because you decided to stop a little. And wasn't writing your main passion? I suggest you keep writing, Janet. You're so eager for the world to read your book, as if you've to prove someone that choosing your dreams does not always end in vain."

"I don't know, Tara. Every time I walk out of a publisher's office with a rejection, I just think of the moment I could have chosen medicine instead. At least I would have had a sense of assurance that my life is not getting wasted."

"Do you feel the same when you're writing?"

"No."

"There's your answer. You've the power to create an universe using simply your imagination, Janet. So do that. People will become a part of your world on their own."

"Yeah, you're right." She says. "What about your job? When are you starting?"

"This Tuesday."

"The upcoming Tuesday?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"Great, all the best."

"Thanks. Is it late there?" I query.

"Yeah, close to midnight."

"Good night, then."

"Alright, I'll talk to you later."

"Will you?" I tease her.

She chuckles. "Promise. Now bye!"

"Bye." Hanging up, I put the phone on the window sill and look down.

Shourya has connected the hose to the tap to water the plants. Sometime later, it stops spraying and he frowns, turning around the mouth of the hose. He blows into it, slaps it harshly on his palm before squinting an eye to look carefully. I gasp when it suddenly starts working and the water splashes on his face with the force akin to a slap. My hand flies to my mouth in shock, and I fall in fits of laughter as he flings the hose around, gasping and coughing loudly.

He drops the hose to rub his eyes. I lean over and brace the window grill with my elbows, watching him wipe his face with the front of his white t-shirt, revealing his six pack abs. Dropping the t-shirt, which is now a complete see through, he looks up sourly at me, not appreciating the amusement in the smile I show him.

"Your nipples are hard."

He covers his chest. "Pervert." And walks away.

My jaw drops. "Look who's talking!" I scream.

He pops out his head from around the corner. "If I remember correctly, you offered to have sex with me yesterday morning."

I blush. "I- I didn't! That was a test!"

"Chal jhuti." He smiles and disappears.

I huff, turning around to resume the laundry work. I carry the basket to our room. Shourya steps out of the bathroom in dry clothes. Scooping out his section of clothes, I turn and dump them in his outstretched arms. "Here, these are yours. You can pack them." I go back to putting mine away. "Are we leaving early in the morning?"

"Yeah, after breakfast." He replies. "Pity, though. I like it here."

"I don't."

All I've been doing ever since we came here is cooking, watching movies and cooking again. Except for our first day here, when we went to the lake, nothing eventful happened. I can't wait to go back and resume my daily routine. Doing nothing is boring.

"You never like it around me."

I open my mouth to counter, then clasp it shut in surprise. Why did I even feel the need to deny his assumption? Isn't it true? Shaking my head, I focus on the task in hand.

He puts our luggage in the corner of the room. I go downstairs to prepare dinner. He joins me a moment later. It bothered him that I did all the work day before yesterday. So he has been making an effort since yesterday to help me out more around the house. We work in harmony. He chops the stuff for me, follows my instructions deftly and volunteers to do things that are hard for me. Like having to stir the gravy constantly, or washing hot noodles under cold water to avoid stickiness.

"I'm sure I saw gram flour somewhere yesterday," I mutter under my breath. "Oh, right, in the above shelf." My height fails me. He steps in behind, his chest against my back, his sinewy arm reaching above me to open the shelf for the packet of flour and settling it on the counter in front of me. Butterflies go crazy in my stomach. "Thank you," I whisper.

He moves back.

I pick up the flour packet and turn around, finding him near the stove checking on the consistency of the sauce. I sigh softly. God wasn't playing around when he made this man. How could one look so drop dead gorgeous while doing the most basic, mundane tasks?

We finish preparing dinner and shift to the living room to eat. He finds a random science fiction movie and puts it on. I hand him the plate after he settles down next to me. Picking up mine, which consists of less noodles and more soup, I start eating.

The movie gets interesting after interval. But since we've to leave early next morning, I retire to bed after an hour of lounging around post dinner. He stays back to finish the movie.

Strangely, even in the state of barely consciousness, I feel his breath fan my ear as his arm pulls me closer. "I love you," he says the words my heart had been anticipating from the time I felt the dip in the bed, and it finally settles down in the ribcage, beating normally again.

For our last morning at the farmhouse, I ask him what he'd like to have for breakfast. His eyes light up. "Something South Indian?"

I think of a few options. Aunt Bertha has taught me all popular cuisines. I remember some, I've forgotten most of them already. But South Indian food stuck. Probably because of how tender it feels to your taste buds. It's homely and warm.

"How about Rava Dosa?" I ask him.

He nods.

"Wash up and come downstairs in an hour."

"Okay," his eyes smile.

I wish he could look at me with those luminescent ebony eyes forever. I wish he never has to hide them again. They're too beautiful to exist behind a curtain. He may not know, but it was his eyes that pulled me towards him first. They're like an ardent reader's favourite book, a curious explorer's resting spot, a dreamer's fascination, and the calm of every restless mind.

"What?" He whispers.

"Do you have to wear them?" I glance at the lens in his hand.

He looks down at them before meeting my eyes. "The world won't accept me without them."

I will.

Nodding, I get off the doorjamb and head downstairs. It takes me less than an hour to prepare the batter and dish out the first crispy Dosa. I've already prepared myself some soft upma.

I call him downstairs. He walks in wearing a black suit. "Are you going to office directly?"

I hand him the plate and nod towards the coconut chutney on the side. He walks around the counter to fill a little bowl for himself. "Yeah, after dropping you off at the palace."

"But it's Sunday."

He moves towards the dining table and sits down to eat. "We're inaugurating the new finance company tomorrow. I'll be announced as the CEO. I've a few things to wrap up at Jumbo Steels before I hand down my position to the next person in line."

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" I ask him as I spread the batter on the nonstick pan for another dosa. "You'll have another, right?"

"Two more." He replies, swallowing to answer, "And yeah, a little bit. I've waited over two decades for this moment. What about you? Excited for the new job? You're starting this Tuesday, right?"

I nod.

"You're nervous too?"

"A little bit." I smile. "But I'll be fine."

"You'll be there with me tomorrow, won't you?"

"Yeah." I answer distractedly.

"Then I'll be fine too."

I force myself to not react. He's going to get me a heart attack one day if he keeps saying stuff like that.

After breakfast, he stays back to clean the kitchen while I go upstairs to get ready to leave. By the time I return, he has put on his long coat, shoes and is waiting for me at the doorstep. We lock the front door and walk to our car. He opens the door for me. I thank him and slide in. He closes the door before crossing the bonnet to get to the driver's side. Soon we're leaving the farmhouse behind to go back to our daily lives.

And the way our daily lives don't disappoint us. I really took the peace at the farmhouse for granted. There's not a moment I get to breath calmly upon returning to Rajgarh. As the only woman of the house, and wife of Shourya, the responsibility indirectly falls on me to make sure the arrangements for the after-party of the inauguration ceremony are up to the royal standards. The Chairman hands me a list of things to do, and I know better than to disappoint him. I hate the man to the core, but there's time until I can show it to him. If Shourya and my brothers are playing nice in front of him, that leaves me with no choice but to play along.

The inauguration ceremony concludes sucessfully and the guests return to the palace in the evening for the celebration of the new beginning. I have to wear a saree again. Shourya gets to wear a tuxedo. I hate double standards. As the hosts of the party, we greet the guests together.

"You look tired." Shourya comments.

I give him a look of deadpan. "Did you think I'd shine like a brand new mannequin after running around the whole day?"

"I'll get you a glass of water." He leaves my side to go to the bar.

I look ahead and almost blanch seeing Niharika walk in along with her father. But I plaster a smile on my face for the old man's sake. He was polite to me the last time we met. And indirectly, he helped me find out the truth behind the lies used to fool me.

"Welcome, Mr. Chandra. Hi, Niharika."

"Hi," she forces a smile back.

Not the same in her father's case. "Great arrangements, beta."

"Thank you." I place a hand on my chest. "I had to do everything on a short notice but-" Shourya shoves a glass of water in my face. I blink. "Thank you," I take it from him. "Anyway, I'm glad you could make it in time. I'm sure Shourya's grandfather is waiting to meet you, am I right, Shourya?" I nudge him on the elbow to start speaking.

"Yeah, of course. He's inside. Should I take you to him?"

"No, we'll be fine. I'm sure you both need to attend the remaining guests." The father and daughter walk away.

My family arrives next. I smile, finding my genuine happiness in between the chaos. I walk up to them and hug Vivaan tightly. He presses a soft kiss on top of my head.

"How are you, guys?" I pull away to look at the handsome five men.

"We're fine." Vivaan answers on their behalf. "What about you? How was the honeymoon?" He pinches my nose playfully. I fluster and slap his hand away.

"I was worried when none of you came to the attend the inauguration ceremony." I look at Yuvraaj particularly.

"We were busy with work." He answers, his hand rising to stroke the back of my head. "Are you happy?" He asks softly.

I nod. "Of course."

"Yuvraaj, I need to talk to you." Shourya breaks the moment. I step aside as he comes to stand beside me.

"Actually, Shourya, I need to talk to you." Vivaan speaks, "regarding the call I received two days ago." He adds.

"Oh, right-"

"No!" Agastya snaps, surprising all of us. "I need to talk to this man. Mr. Sister stealer, come with me. We've something important to discuss." Grabbing Shourya's arm, Agastya drags him away. We stare stupefied.

"Careful, Tara, he looks like he's about to steal your husband away." Yuvaan teases me.

I scowl. "Shut up." But I can't help the look of alarm seizing my face as I glance towards the men again.

I escort my remaining brothers to their table. A few minutes later, Agastya joins them. I keep my curiosity to myself until the end of the party. It's during my nightly routine as Shourya's preparing to go to bed that I pop the question.

"What did Agastya need to talk about?"

Shourya chuckles while fixing the bedsheet. "He was offended that I didn't approach him to convince him for our marriage."

"Oh," I whisper. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugs. "I knew nothing I do will change his mind. He loves you too much to think rationally. He thinks only he can protect you."

I smile fondly. Yeah, that definitely describes Agastya. "You wouldn't believe but he hated me when we first met."

"I do." Shourya meets my eyes. "I hated you too. Then I realised I can never hate you enough to want you out of my life. But I can always love you enough to look for you when you're not around. Maybe he realised the same."

My heart flutters.

Someone stop this man from speaking.

"It's late. I've office tomorrow."

Closing the lid of the moisturizer tube, I put it back in its place and walk to the bed. We get into the bed at the same time. He keeps the side of his lights on to read a book. I lie down and pull the covers to my waist, pretending to fall asleep. A few minutes later, I feel his arm come around my waist and pull me to his chest. Then he whispers in my ear, "I love you." And that's enough to make me fall asleep without a second thought.

The next morning, I wake up early, deliberately skipping gym to get ready for the office. Shourya gets off his work desk to occupy the bathroom after me. He returns fifteen minutes later, dressed in a plain blue suit, and stands next to me in front of the dressing table, putting on his cufflinks while I apply a light coat of lipstick to my lips.

"Shall we?" He asks as I move towards the bed to pick up my bag.

"Huh?" I frown at him.

"I'll drive you to the office."

"No, that's not necessary. I've my car-"

"I know." He cuts me off. "But I want to drive you to the office."

"Why?"

"It was a big day for me yesterday. And you were with me the whole time. Now it's my turn to do the same for you."

"You- You don't have to."

"I want to."

HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THIS MAN???? 🥹😭

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