Vihaan thought long and hard about the dilemma he all of a sudden found himself in. Stuck. It was a situation he couldn't have foreseen in a million years, yet, it was a situation he couldn't get out of simply because it could cause the woman he despised, her life.
It went further to complicate matters the fact that he hated her, yet, he couldn't leave. Not if he wanted to keep his conscience. When it came down to it, it was either his freedom from a marriage he never endorsed or his conscience. He desperately wished he could keep them both.
Kyra was a woman of very little words, her brown eyes seeming to be as silent as her lips. Her fingers fidgeted at the mere sight of him and his presence left her entire body trembling with fear. Even now, as he stared at her, she trembled. He could never understand it. He couldn't understand her fear of him or her withdrawal. Not that he wanted her to come close -on the contrary, he liked the distance between them- but he hated the fear he saw in her eyes and much more than that, he hated the thought of being stuck with this weakling.
He sighed, remembering the word Britney had used on him when he announced the reason he was breaking up with her. He was a weakling, a man too dependent on his father to go against his will, to defy him.
Yet, here he stood, doing the exact same thing he was accused of not being able to do; defying his father. He was standing before Kyra and making certain that she had the right set of pills in her hands. He smiled bitterly. For Kyra, he was both a weakling and a hero.
"Thank you." She smiled in response to his smile. Then, as if realizing her mistake, she glanced down, glass of water in hand.
"Kyra..." He wanted to yell but kept his voice leveled, not wanting to draw unwanted attention their way. If his father had an inkling that Kyra had been administered the right pill for her Angina for the past week -since he told Vihaan about it- he'd have Vihaan's head, quite literally.
"Yes, Vihaan?" She whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Will you continue to fear me?" He was offended. There was nothing about him to fear yet, she feared him everyday.
"Si- Vihaan?"
He smirked at her close mistake. "If you must live in this house, you mustn't be afraid of me."
He watched her fingers grip tightly to the blue blouse she had on. He decided a few days ago since she replaced her Indian sari for simple Jeans and skirts, that he liked seeing her in simple attires. Her hair was pulled up into a tight braid.
"Kyra?" He heaved a breath, tired of waiting for her response.
"Then, Vihaan, give me nothing to fear." Her words came out of tightly pressed lips but he managed to hear them.
His frown deepened. "You accuse me of scaring you? So you're saying that if it weren't for me, you'd act normal, like a girl who isn't walking around here with a gun pressed to her head?!"
Her hands shook nervously as his voice rose with every word he spoke. Her lips trembled and after spending a whole week with her, he knew it meant she was about to cry. A thought that heightened his irritation. Turning around, he walked out of the room, deciding he had done his part; once again, Kyra was alive because of him and as he walked out of the front door, he decided that was all he needed from her, besides, he needed her to be alive if he was going to divorce her.
****
Even as Vihaan stormed out of the room that morning, Kyra mentally scolded herself for being the reason for his anger. She shouldn't have uttered those words, accusing him of scaring her. Yet, they had made their way out of her lips before she had the willpower to stop them. And from the spark of anger she saw in Vihaan's eyes, she knew her words hit their mark.
She stared at the glass in her hand, pushing back the thought that always entered her mind when Vihaan handed her her medication every morning:
It wasn't his job
Why was he doing this?
Something doesn't seem right.
Yet, she swallowed her hesitation as she took her pills from him each day. It wasn't her place to question her husband, mother would always say. It was her place to obey.
Still, her mother's obedience hadn't earned her reprieve from her father's fists. Even now as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, images of his abuse crawled into her mind, almost knocking the breath out of her. There was nothing she could do to save her mother or relieve her pain.
She thought of asking Vihaan to drive her to her father's estate but she doubted her father would be pleased to see her. It had only been a week since she left, he'd say and with a frown. But she desired the embrace of her mother. She desired to hear her soothing voice and the encouragement they brought to her aching, lonely heart. She was alone even if she was supposed to have a companion in Vihaan. All she got was an aloof, cold man. She knew if she had anything to be thankful for, it was the fact that he still hadn't lifted a fist to her.
If she stayed with her new family long enough, perhaps a request to visit her mother would not be denied? How long was long anyway? Two weeks, Three, a month? A month sounded long enough. Besides, if she could survive a month under the condescending glare of Vihaan, then a visit to her mother would be too little a gift to demand in return.
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