& Then They Loved (Ampersand Love #3)

36. Kneel

36

Kneel

Vihaan

I f ever there was a time he could have been persuaded to throw money and purchase his own plane, it would have been that morning. In fact, he was seriously considering investing in a private airport precisely so that he would never have to face the frustration he’d undergone while waiting for a flight back to Mumbai. Worse still, there had been weather delays which meant that his plan to intercept Vera before she left for work went down the drain.

Which brought Vihaan to this point, rushing out of his car before it had even rolled to a stop outside Ethos. He glanced at his watch as his steps quickened, his generally perfect hair fluttering as the wind swept through the silky strands. He’d be cutting it close. His interview was barely an hour away. The crowds filing down the foyer towards the filming studio told him that the live audience had arrived .

He should be with his team, preparing for the all-important kick off to the SSI premiere, but he didn’t have it in him to wait. He needed to see Vera. After how she’d barged out of his apartment, now knowing that he’d put his massive foot into his mouth by suggesting that he’d forgive her, he needed to speak with her, if only to apologise.

He could only hope that she’d give him a chance.

Vihaan jogged down the hallway, skipping past the busy backstage crew, toward the make-up room. He stepped in, his eyes landing on the person he was terrified of facing, but had no hope of staying away from. He stood there, silently watching as she marked something within a folder and handed it off to one of the crew, shooting off final instructions to her team. With an authority that had him swooning, she answered their questions, thanking them for their hard work even as someone from the makeup crew continued to dust her cheeks with a fluffy brush.

His heart swelled with pride.

How had he lost sight of this person? This hardworking, stunning woman who commanded the attention of those around her. Who cared less about luxuries because her energies were focused on her passion and proving her worth.

How had he been stupid enough to think that a woman with her pride and tenacity would ever be swayed by money?

Maybe he made a noise, or maybe she simply sensed him, because her sharp eyes lifted, settling upon him with the weight of a freight train.

His feet remained pinned in place while the remaining team members slowly trickled out, until it was just the two of them.

“Where the hell have you been?” Vera snarked, spitting fire at him before the door was fully closed. Despite her impeccable makeup, Vihaan saw signs of fatigue. Her lips were pulled tight, shadows darkening the soft skin under her eyes, attesting to sleepless nights. Had she cried because of him ?

“Do you have any idea how worr—” She cut herself off, blowing out a quick breath. “The team was expecting you here three hours ago. We had to go through the mock run without you which is ridic—”

“I’m sorry.”

Vera jerked back, stunned with his quick apology.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

Something in his tone must have given him away because her brows straightened and her shoulders pulled back, her expression calming into one that was indecipherable. “I’m not interested in talking about anything not related to work.”

“Please,” Vihaan begged, stepping closer to her. “Listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking livid with myself for what I did. I misunderstood you and—”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“When we broke up,” he clarified, watching her face grow ashen. “All those years ago, Rahul saw you taking money from Papa, and he told me about it. Made it seem like you were only with me because of it.”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. A long breath later— “You believed him?”

He detested the vulnerability in her question, knowing that his answer would do nothing to soothe the hurt he could sense in those three words. “Not at first. Then I saw you selling the bangle I’d bought you, and I lost my mind.”

Wide eyed, Vera gasped. “What do you mean you saw me?”

Vihaan sighed miserably, choking the words out when he explained what he’d witnessed at the jewellers. The state of mind he’d been in and how their conversation right after had confirmed his fears that he was worth nothing more than the price of a bangle and the money she’d gotten from his father.

He waited in silence, watching Vera struggle to absorb what he was revealing to her, praying with every ounce of belief he had that she would try and see this for what it was. A terrible mistake made by an emotional boy who’d been unable to quieten his ego when placed in competition with the father he’d been trying to prove wrong.

“I found my grandma’s bangle,” she said after a long pause that had his palms sweating. “That’s what I sold. Not the one you gave me. I would’ve never insulted you like that.”

“I figured.”

“And your dad gave me money as payment for tutoring you.”

“I know!” Vihaan almost cried. “I know now. I misunderstood you. I was young and stupid. I know that’s not an excuse and sorry is not enough but. . .”

“You’re right. It’s not enough.”

Vihaan’s heart plummeted, his skin chilling at the lack of emotion in her gaze. It reminded him of the woman he’d met many months ago. The one who’d loathed him. The clear withdrawal in her stance sent a jolt of alarm racing through him. He took a tentative step closer, wincing when she spun away. As though looking at his face sickened her.

“Princess, even when I didn’t know the truth, I wanted you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Silence, fraught with darkness and tension, seeped between them.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, uncaring if he sounded pathetic. If he had to apologise a thousand times over for her grievances to abate, he would do it without a single complaint. “Please forgive me. I know the truth now. I know why you took the money. I had no idea Nanaji was sick.”

“Of course you didn’t. You never even gave me a chance to tell you.”

“Please,” he pleaded, his voice raw.

“You know the truth, good for you. What does that change?” Vera faced him, her anguish no longer hidden. “Where was this care and concern when I was running from one medical institution to another, trying to get help for Nanu? Where were you when I had nowhere to go, no one to speak to, no one to hold me when I cried? Where the fuck were you when I was afraid, alone, and wanted someone to lean on?!”

Her red-rimmed eyes drowned him in guilt, her questions deepening the pit of self-loathing within him. “I’m sorry,” Vihaan croaked, his apology sounding as worthless as he felt.

“Maybe you are. But it makes no difference anymore. You were weak enough to give up on me when I needed you and I—” She shook her head, visibly collecting herself before she spoke again. “I’ve moved on. I am not the Vera who once loved you.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

“But it is. My parents rejected me from birth but at least they never gave me any hope for something more. You knew how hard it was for me to let anyone get close. You made me open up to you, and when I let you in, you broke me.”

“No,” he gasped, her declaration catapulting him into a cloying miasma of pain and regret.

“I could never bring myself to attempt a relationship after what you did. You thrust me into the loneliest years of my life, Vihaan, and the oddest thing was I didn’t hate you nearly as much as I hated myself. I hated myself for trusting you, for falling in love with you and giving you power over me. I’d have to be a special kind of idiot to allow that to happen again, wouldn’t I?” she choked, letting out a bitter laugh when he flinched.

His heart twisted painfully at her agonised expression, even as his gut burned with fear.

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to see me. Choose me. Whether it was angering you so you’d notice me, or doing well at school so you’d be proud of me, or building a business separate from my father with your voice in my head driving me to prove I’m not useless—everything’s been for you. I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped. ”

Her jaw tightened, refusing to give credence to his words. His earnestness had no impact on her mistrust of him, and while he understood why, it lodged a knife in his chest. He approached her, pleading, “Is there nothing I can do to make amends?”

“Kneel,” she demanded, watching him with an impenetrable mask upon her features.

“W-what?”

“Get on your knees and use your mouth or get the fuck out,” she slowly repeated. “I’ve never forgotten what you said.”

He blanched, the knife twisting harder.

“Get on your knees and apologise if you’re truly sorry.”

Her indigo eyes were glittering with barely leashed hate, the heat of which was burning his hope to ashes. Done waiting for him, she glanced at the dressing table, turning to pick up her phone.

“It’s fine,” she said, readying herself to leave. “The past is wh—”

He dropped to his knees, looking up at her for mercy. As if he was a sinner and she was the angel delivering his punishment.

“You seem surprised,” he guessed, a sad tilt to his lips when Vera remained speechless. He cocked his head to the left, his eyes red. “Did you think I was too proud to kneel in front of you? I’ll be on my knees every day, Vera, if it means you’ll give me another chance. No price is too high for your forgiveness.”

Her lips trembled, emotions rising between them with the speed of a high tide during the full moon.

“Tell me how to earn you back.” Salty tears scalded his eyes, leaking despite his best efforts.

“I can’t,” she said hoarsely, swiping at her wet cheeks. She shook her head once, walking past him, stopping when he grabbed her hand in both of his.

“Why?” he asked, still kneeling. His gaze was fixed on the cold tile floor, too afraid to look up and see that there was no hope for him. For them .

The gentleness with which she extracted her wrist from his grip did not prepare him for the devastation that ravaged him at her response.

“I don’t hate myself enough to love you again.”