Surprise ✨
-• I can't trust you •-
Rudra
Is it me?
Or is it love?
Who failed to understand whom?
Taranya adamantly continues with her silent treatment. I'm wired to think it's my fault. Maybe I did something. But I fail to figure out what. I understand this marriage hadn't taken her consent into consideration, but she didn't look so aversed to the idea of marrying me than she's looking now just at the prospect of standing next to me in front of the world.
Hesitantly, I reach out to hold her hand. The tip of my fingers brush the side of her palm. She instinctively brings it to her chest, holding it there, her eyes fixed ahead firmly.
"Speak to me," I request in a whisper. "Did I do something?"
A deep furrow appears in her forehead until she frantically irons it away as a guest couple walks up to us. The poker look on her face is replaced by a gorgeous smile. She thanks the woman, taking the bouquet and handing it to the butler behind.
"Shourya, congratulations, Beta." The woman's husband says.
I can't remember his name, so I settle on smiling, "Thank you, Sir. Did you have dinner yet?"
"We're about to," his wife answers.
"You should hurry up. It's already late." Taranya politely sends them off. "Thank you for coming," she adds as they walk down the stage.
"Taranya-"
"Shourya, please don't." She cuts me off sternly.
I frown.
If I hate something, then it's being clueless about my own situation. I need to know everything so I can control things before they go out hands. If she could tell me what's wrong, I'll work something out. But she won't. She's stubborn like that. I need to find out. Something has to happen between the time I was with Niharika in the room and she was with her family.
Wait.
Did she see me with Niharika in our bedroom?
"Excuse me," I say to her and hurriedly descend the stage. A few guests try to stop and talk to me, but I politely slip out. A minute later, I'm closing the door of my room and walking up to my desk. Yara has to have seen something. His lens are facing the door. If she was there, he must have recorded her real-time. Unfolding the delicate hinges, I put them on and sit down at my desk. He automatically connects to the desktop. "Show me the video recording of 7:30 PM to 7:45 PM." The video starts.
I lean back in my chair. The lens captured the video from a low perspective. But at least I can see the door. Five minutes into the video and I see the door frame form a slit. She might not be visible in the video, but her saree is hard to ignore. I pause the video. "Fuck!" Bracing the table using my elbows, I hang my head low in my hands.
She saw us. She heard us.
Did she misunderstand us?
"Shit."
Getting off the chair, I rip open the door, about to rush out so I can explain her, but startle back as she stands right at the doorstep. At my reaction, she flinches too. I blink. "Sorry, I was coming to you-"
"Move." She says tersely.
I obey.
Holding the pleats of her saree, she brushes past me and heads directly inside the washroom. I blow a breath to calm down. I need to think this through, articulate my thoughts well, and then explain her everything. Closing the door, I gravitate back to my chair and sit down. I know what I've to tell her. I just hope she's willing to listen.
The bathroom door opens. I get up immediately. "Tara-" she walks out of the room without heeding me a glance.
"Is everything okay?" Yara questions. "You're unnaturally anxious."
"Unnaturally?" I scoff out and sit back down. "What's unnatural about being anxious?"
"You're rarely anxious. In fact, you're never anxious. But in the last five years, these symptoms have grown more frequent."
"Symptoms?"
"Yes. Irregular heartbeat, sweat, laboured breathing, trembling."
"That's what being in love feels like." I answer.
"Fear shares much the similar symptoms. Maybe it's not love. Maybe you're just afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"I don't know. Emotions are not practical. They're don't have a fixed model. And I haven't evolved enough to understand them." He explains. "And if love is anything like fear, why do people still want to know how it feels like?"
"Because you never allow yourself to feel, Yara, you feel, and you allow yourself to either accept it or deny it. That's in your power. Nothing else."
"So you didn't seek love, but love sought you?"
"Yes." I reply.
"Being human is hard. You've power in all aspects of your life, but not in the ones that truly matter." He mutters.
"If I had a choice, I'd have chosen to never exist. It's pointless." Putting off the glasses, I cup my face in my hands and take a few deep breaths to compose myself.
Fixing my outward appearance, because that's what is noticed more, I leave the room and return to the hall. She's attending the guests. Accepting their gifts. Smiling at them freely.
I've always strived on plans, strategies, tricks and tactics. I never completely betted my future on hopes alone. The probability of universe working accordingly for you is slim. Or maybe none. Hence, I relied on my own to make it work, to win her at my side. And I did. I succeeded again. But at what cost? She's completely unhappy. And it's making me restless.
What's the use of the victory that's acquired in her defeat?
"Shourya," she calls out. I look towards her. "C'mon, they want a photo with us. I know I look pretty, but you can stare at me later. It's not right to make the guests wait. C'mon," she beckons me closer, arm stretched out in my direction, a smile on her face. I walk up the stage and hold her hand, clasping it tightly in mine before I fake a smile for the camera.
"Congratulations, again!" The ladies smile at us before walking away.
Tara quickly withdraws her hand from mine and interlaces it with the other on her stomach. My fingers flex and hand clenches in anguish. I shove it in the pockets of my trousers.
The party lasts until over midnight. She sees off her family personally. The Chairman keeps me occupied with other important guests. I watch her return to the room first. I'm allowed to go a few minutes later. When I enter the room, she's already changed in her night outfit, busy putting her phone on charge before she sits on her side of the bed and yanks the sheets to her knees, lying down and facing the wall.
"Tara, we need to talk."
In response, she turns off the lights.
Discarding my suit jacket on the couch, I walk up to the bedside and turn on the main lights. Without a glance at me, she reaches for the switch board and turns them off. Agitated, I turn them on. She casually leans forward for the switch board again. I grab her wrist, jerking her straight. She glares at me.
"Did you see me with Niharika in this room? Is that why you're angry?"
She snatches her hand from me. "I could care less about who you bring into this room. Leave me alone."
"We need to talk."
She goes under the sheets and covers her head with them.
"Tara, at least let me explain!" I beg. "Tara!" I rip off the covers.
She sits up and pushes me back on the chest, getting up to face me. "What? What do you want to explain, Shourya!? Did I ask for any explanation? Did I come to you with any questions? No! So, fuck off!"
"There's nothing between me and Niharika. Yes, she knows about the contract, but that's because I had no choice-"
"Shut up, Shourya!" She snaps. "Just shut up. Whatever you say, I'm not going to trust you."
I freeze.
"I know you lied."
A frown covers my features.
"You lied, Shourya. Again." Tears brim her eyes. I take a step forward but she raises a hand, stopping me in my place. "Niharika's family is never entering politics, is it? Her grandfather is bedridden for years!"
I swallow.
Fuck.
I wasn't ready for this confrontation. Not now. Not ever. How did she know about it? Nobody knew about my lie. Not even Yuvraaj. Half his ackquiescence relied on that lie, and half on his sister's happiness. He only agreed because he thought it's a good decision from both personal and professional perspective. I'd put it across as a classified information. So unless Tara talked about it with anyone from Chandra family -
I close my eyes in regret remembering she did talk to Arvind Chandra once. But why would he tell her about his bedridden father knowing she's a reporter and that it might affect his business if the world found out? What a fucking dimwit. Shit.
"What happened?" She steps forward, grabbing me by the front of my shirt. "Cat got your tongue?" I look away. "I'm talking to you, Shourya. Look at me!" So I do. She watches me in pure rage and agony, her lips trembling before she clenches her jaw tightly. "Why are you doing this? Why?"
I undo her fist from my shirt. She drops her hand to her side in defeat.
"You're so hopeless." She murmurs. "You want everything at your conditions, and that's not-that's not how relationships work, Shourya. Why did you lie, Shourya? Why do you keep lying to me?"
"You wouldn't have married me unless." I answer. "I keep lying because you don't give shit about my actual situation. I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry. I know lying was wrong. But I had no choice. I could have come to you, explained my situation, but then what? You were angry at me. You still are. You'd have said no and then I'd have to marry Niharika." I blubber out in panic. "I couldn't marry her. I couldn't marry anyone! I wanted to marry you. I want you." I approach her slowly, and gently cup her face in my hands. She looks up at me tear stricken. "Why don't you understand? It's only you. It has always been you."
"You're so full of shit!" She throws my hands away and steps back.
My face crumbles. "What?"
"Don't expect me to understand you when you did nothing to earn my trust! All you ever did is break it! Stomp all over it! And I'm done with you!"
"Trust me this once." I beg.
"I can't." She answers softly. "Not because I don't want to, but I simply cannot. Even if you jump from a fifty feet building to prove your honesty, I still won't trust you. I just can't. And why should I trust you? You never gave me a reason to." She says bitterly. "Can you ever explain all the atrocities you've committed towards me? Can you ever justify your lies? Your betrayals? Tell me, Shourya? Can you?"
I stand quiet, clenching my jaw until the point it hurts that I can blame it for the tears in my eyes.
"And do me a favor, whatever you feel for me, never call it love." I look at her tormented. "You're a monster. You're not capable of feeling love. So I'll wait until this obsession of yours wear out. And I'll be free of you. Forever."
Turning off the lights, she goes back inside the sheets and lies facing away from me.
I storm inside the bathroom, clicking the door shut. I turn on all the taps and hunch over the basin, letting go of the tears silently.
"You're a monster. You're not capable of feeling love."
I look at myself in the mirror.
I've always acknowledged the fact that I'm a monster. I've committed sins that are monstrous, merciless. But the moment I heard her call me monster, I wanted to vehemently disagree and cut open my flesh to show her I'm blood and bones, just like her. I feel too. I'm hurt too. I cry too.
Exhaling an exhausted breath, I turn off all the taps and stand straight to remove my lens. A few minutes later, I leave the bathroom and navigate my way back to the bed in the dark. She shuffles to turn the other side. I lift my legs and scoot back until I'm sitting with my back to the headboard.
Silence prevails.
I feel suffocated from inside. I've so much to say. And even after knowing she doesn't want to hear me anymore, I'm unable to stop myself.
"Tara," I whisper pathetically. The stars illuminate enough that I can make out her body language. She stiffens. "I'm sorry." I add, licking my lower lip as I release a deep, crushing breath. "I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did. A lot. But I really didn't want to. Even when I was thinking of using you for your name and power, hurting you never crossed my mind. I know nothing that I say is going to make it better. You're right. I'm a monster. But this monster only ever softened for you. He only ever cared for you. And maybe he has no idea of what love is, but in his definition, it's you." I sigh. "It's you, Tara. I love you, Tara. God, I love you so much." I confess shakily.
"Stop it, Shourya." She pleads.
"I'm sorry. I love you."
She takes a deep breath.
"You're free to call it obsession, or infatuation, or attraction, or anything if that assures you. But for me, it's love. It's irreversible, insurmountable, compulsive, consuming kind of love. And it's never changing, never reducing, never fading. It exists with me. It exists in me. So as long as I breathe, I'm yours, Taranya. Completely and devotedly."
She throws off the covers and leaves the room to step out on the balcony. I don't follow her. I know I'm not welcomed anywhere near her. So I sit there in the dark, waiting for her or for the sleep. In the end, sleep takes mercy on me.
I wake up at the break of dawn.
She's back on the bed next to me, fast asleep. I slide down and turn, leaning in to tuck back the long strand on her cheek. She squirms slightly and turns on her side, her hand falling to hold my bicep. I grow stiff. Fortunately, she doesn't wake up, her breathing soft and slow.
"Did I scare you off last night?" I ask her in a whisper. "I did, right? I'm selfish, I'm sorry. I couldn't let you sleep knowing you're unaware of the depth of my feelings. I was tired of keeping it all in." The expanse of my palm swallows her small cheek. I stroke my thumb beneath her lower lip. They're so tempting I feel invited. So I lean in and press a soft kiss on her forehead, hoping it distracts me from her lips. "I love you, Esther," I cup the back of her head. "It feels so good to know that you know." I nuzzle my face in her hair.
With much effort, I pull away and leave the bed. If I stayed there any longer, breathing in her scent, I'd have done something to ruin it even more for myself.
Taranya wakes up an hour later. She doesn't pay me any mind. I didn't expect her to. After changing into gym appropriate clothes, she swings her gym bag over her shoulder and exits the bedroom. I don't follow her like yesterday.
She returns at eight o clock, dumps her bag on the floor, unzips her jacket and discards it on the chair before sprawling on the bed.
I grimace. "Can you not do that?"
She regards me blankly.
"Please. You're all sweaty. Take a shower first."
In response, she rolls around the bed, stretching her muscles and cracking her bones. My face morphs into a look of disgust.
"This feels nice!" Then she jumps on her feet, grabs her bag from the floor and walks inside the closet. I hear her whistle a random tune as she proceeds to prepare for a shower. Bathroom door clicks shut a minute later. I quickly reach for the receiver and press one. It connects with the staff quarters lobby.
"Send someone to my room to replace the bedsheets." I hang up.
Two maids arrive. They take out the sheets and covers, whispering among themselves as they work. I ignore until one of them giggles. "Is something funny?"
The taller woman slaps the other's arm, shaking her head frantically at me. Then she shushes the shorter woman aggressively, their cheeks burning red, before they wind up the task in hand and scurry out of the room.
"What the fuck is wrong with the people in this palace?"
"It's not their fault." I startle hearing her talk to me. "You asked them to replace the bedsheets of a newly wed couple's room. Of course they'll gossip and giggle." She drapes her towel on the drying rack.
"Why?" I frown.
She sighs. "Because apparently, couples have sex, Shourya."
I clear my throat and look at the screen, diving back into the work. We avoid each other for the rest of the day. Her laptop keeps her occupied. Then lunch. And then dinner. We don't speak more than a word. Which is nothing but,
"Can you turn off the AC?"
"Please put on your headphones. I can't focus."
And so on.
"You know the first sign of true love?" A female character in the movie she's watching says.
I pause briefly.
"What?" The male asks.
"Wanting to see the person you love happy, even if it's at the cost of your heartbreak. You just... you just want to see them smiling, laughing, being themselves."
"And if it's without me that they're happy?"
"Let them go."
"What about me?"
"You can't love unconditionally on conditions."
Taranya closes the movie before the conversation can conclude. She puts away the laptop and goes to sleep.
"You can't love unconditionally on conditions."
I'm stuck.
In that one sentence stolen from some crappy fictional love story, where happy endings are promised, and reality can never make sense. And it reverberates me in my head the whole night.
Is that why she told me to never call it love?
Is that why she calls it obsession?
Why can't love be selfish though? Why does it demand sacrifice? Why can't it be conditionally unconditioned? Why can't it be acquired, stolen or kept? Why does it need to be free? Why does it need to have power over us and not the other way around?
The questions torment me the entire night. I forget to sleep.
"I've to go home." She says to me the next day. I drop the towel I was using to wipe my hair and give her my attention. "For my Pag Phera. Agastya is coming to take me home."
Nodding, I step inside the closet and put on fresh clothes. We have breakfast with the Chairman and Virendra.
"The opening of our finance company is closer. You're ready to take up the position of the CEO?" The old man asks.
I nod. "Of course."
"Good. Now hurry up with your breakfast and see your wife off. Then come to the office. We've things to catch up on."
"Sure, Dadu."
The finance company is a hoax. Of course, it's registered as a legit company, but it's established simply to reverse the simphoned money and cut off on taxes. Whoever is in control of it, is also in control of the entire Rajawat Empire, but also in direct postion of threat. Because if the truth is uncovered, the man in position takes the fall. Which, when that happens, will be me. So as we collect evidences to do just that, I'll also have to find a way to make sure I'm not caught in the trap that we're setting up for our enemies.
After breakfast, Tara and I return to the bedroom. While I prepare to go to the office, she finishes packing for a stay over at her house.
Fifteen minutes later, her phone rings and she answers the call. "Are you here?" She asks. "Okay, give me a minute. I'm coming." Hanging up, she grabs her purse and phone and reaches for the tiny suitcase.
"Let me," I volunteer. Accepting the offer, she goes to open the door. "Tara."
She looks at me over her shoulder.
"I won't come to pick you up tomorrow morning."
She frowns.
"It'll be your decision." I force out. "I can't change whatever happened. I don't even want to. But you can."
"What- What are you trying to say?" She looks at me clueless.
I walk up to her and put the suitcase near my feet before taking her hand in mine. She startles, then watches me in disbelief as I take out the ring that once belonged to my mother. "This bound you to me. So, I'm taking it back. You have the original copy of the contract. You can do whatever you want with it. Don't worry about what I gave to Niharika. It wasn't the original."
"So, I can tell the truth to my brothers?"
I nod.
"They'll kill you."
"They... won't." I frown.
She sighs and shakes her head in disappointment, picking up her own suitcase before I had the chance to. "Better sleep with one eye open." And she leaves, slamming the door hard enough that it rattles me a little.
I swallow. "Yara, you'll be with me the whole day today. Even when I've to use the loo."
"Sure, Boss."
I guess I failed.
Love was too easy to happen, I assumed it'll just as easily perpetuate.
Do you think he's going to regret it?
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.