& Then They Loved (Ampersand Love #3)

40. Kintsugi

40

Kintsugi

Vera

V era hadn’t expected to be hit with a case of nerves when the noise of the wedding settled. She stared out the sliding glass doors of her new bedroom, into a private garden, wondering if she should take a chance and sleep out there instead of sharing a room with her husband.

Husband?! She shivered. She was a married woman today and it felt nothing like she’d thought it would. Not that she had had reason to think about marriage for nearly fifteen years. But when she’d last done so, she’d been a teenager and had pictured something romantic.

She glanced down at her nightclothes, the simple cotton shorts and t-shirt unlike anything a new bride would don on her wedding night. She’d picked an old pair, deliberately trying to show that tonight was no different than any other night for her. Maybe she was trying to convince herself. Maybe she’d been hoping that Vihaan would say something about her choice of outfit, and she’d have a reason to be angry with him. Instead, he’d left her feeling hot and bothered without ever saying a word.

She pressed a hand to her chest, her heart flopping around like a goldfish when she recalled the look he’d shot her as he’d dragged his eyes over her covered body. She may as well have been in lingerie for all the heat in his gaze.

She’d have thought it was just lust. After all, desire had been one of the strongest connections between them. But it wasn’t simply that.

He’d looked. . . satisfied. As if seeing her in her house clothes, in his bedroom, getting ready to spend the night in the same bed, had soothed some ache in him. The more she tried not to feel affected by Vihaan, the harder it got. Especially when he did things like buy a new house in a quieter part of the city and have it readied so that Nanaji could live with them.

Vera was finally living with her grandfather again. She wouldn’t have to make appointments to see him, just to spend a few precious hours together before the visiting window ended. She could wake up and have meals with him, walk down the hall to check in on him as she wished, hear his voice without using a phone, embrace him whenever she felt like it. For all her trying, this had happened because of Vihaan. He’d shown up with papers a few days after their interview debacle, asking for her signatures so that he could begin the paperwork to get Nanu discharged from Shanti Care Center. Every day since then, each time she snarked at him, her guilt would ramp up.

Try as she might, her conscience would defend Vihaan. Like when he’d brought her the bridal gown. If their circumstances had been different, his actions would’ve made her feel cherished.

Liar, the little voice inside her head piped up, refusing to remain silent. You still feel special. You just hate that you do.

Her eyes fell onto the red bridal bangles adorning her wrist, bookended by the gold ones Vihaan had gifted her. It was unbelievable that he’d had them all along. That even when he’d hated her, he’d not let her go.

She hadn’t wanted to believe his declaration of having always loved her. Yet, she had in her hands clear proof that for nearly fifteen years, he’d held on to her memory.

Her eyes stung, recalling his words. They were always meant to be yours. Like me.

“Ugh,” she grumbled under her breath, chewing the inside of her lip in consternation. It was so tough to remember her reasons for being angry when he behaved this way. If he’d loved her this deeply, how had he not trusted her too? His money had never been a factor in why she’d loved him, and she’d thought he’d known that. Her heart ached with disappointment for how easily he’d misjudged her character, and it made her wary of allowing him to do so again.

Her sights flickered to her blurry image in the glass, homing in on the streak of red that she’d been unable to wash off when she was removing her makeup. For someone who wasn’t the least bit traditional, the idea of wiping off her sindoor mere hours after getting married felt wrong. It had to be the remnants of the silly romantic films she’d watched as a young girl. She grimaced, hating this unforeseen weakness.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she’d wipe the whole darn thing off and pretend like it didn’t bother her.

The scent of clean soap and moist air hit her nostrils before she caught sight of him exiting the en-suite bathroom. She turned, heat blooming in her belly when she was met with a vision of dewy skin and firm back muscles clenching. Head tilted to the side, he spun toward her, rubbing his towel against his dripping wet hair in a move so sexy, her pussy fluttered, like a little butterfly had been let loose within. Unable to stop herself, her eyes skimmed down his taut stomach, irrationally attracted to the twin hip bones creasing into a V which dipped into his black shorts .

“If you like what you’re seeing, Mrs. Oberoi, feel free to touch too. I’m all yours.”

The seductive murmur of his deep voice and the light twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes as his lips tipped up had those butterflies morphing into bats. Large, hungry, horny bats. She clenched her teeth, unable to stop a furious tingle from slithering up her skin and settling on the tips of her ears. “Did you run out of t-shirts to wear?” she waspishly spat.

It was a desperate attempt to recover from being caught eye-fucking him, but the confounding man only grinned happily at her.

“If I say yes, will you be chivalrous and offer me the shirt off your back? I’m all for the romance of it, Princess, especially if it gets you naked.” His cheeky smile, that look of cherubic innocence reminded Vera of a young boy who’d loved to annoy her just like this, with adoration and mischief colouring his tone. The glimmer of those memories, the unexpected glimpse of that boy she’d madly loved in the past merging with the man she now beheld took her breath away. She could do nothing but stand there, her mind fighting a growing need to touch him and check if this was real. To beg for it to be true. Or if it wasn’t, then simply beg for the mind games to end.

“Let’s get a couple things clear,” Vera said in a business-like tone, troubled by her oscillating emotions. “This is not a real marriage. I married you to make Nanu happy so don’t expect anything from me.”

The tic in his jaw and the dimming of his joy should have deterred her but she barrelled on.

“I don’t accept you as my husband. This is a farce we are playing to keep my grandfather happy. That is how you’ll make amends for what you did before. Once Nanu—” She paused, unable to voice her fears. “At whatever time it makes most sense, we will dissolve this marriage. I don’t want anything from you. I’ve had documents made and signed to that effect,” she said, pointing at the file she’d left at the edge of the bed for him, right next to her phone.

Vera watched in silence as Vihaan picked up the black folder and flicked it open. His expression was indecipherable as he reviewed it but shortly afterward, he snapped it shut and handed it to her. “I’ve marked a couple changes that need to be incorporated. I will sign after that.”

Brows knit, she leafed through the pages, her eyes widening when she saw his notes. “Vihaan, what the hell?” She marched behind his retreating back as he headed to their dresser and reached for the bottle of lotion sitting on top. “This says our marriage must last a minimum of 99 years and that everything you own will be transferred to my name if we divorce before then.”

He dabbed some cream onto his face, shrugging nonchalantly.

“This makes no sense. I don’t even think it will hold up legally.”

“There are a few things you need to get straight, Vera. One: this marriage is as permanent as it gets. I won’t be letting you go. Two: if you do leave, I’d be losing the most important thing in my life. My estate isn’t worth shit to me without you. You may as well have it all. Three,” he continued, winking roguishly at her as he sauntered past her, “I am quite fond of my lifestyle and have worked hard to earn what I have. I’m not keen on starting over from scratch. So, the best way for me to retain my assets is to retain you which brings us back to point one. I am never letting you go, wife .”

Stumped by his declaration, Vera stood mutely while Vihaan seated himself at the foot of their bed, his hands pressed on either side of him as he leaned back in a relaxed pose, shooting her his signature smirk. In the weeks leading up to their wedding, she’d kept waiting for a prenuptial agreement to make its way into her mail, confused when it hadn’t. She finally understood why.

In an unexpected show of trust, Vihaan hadn’t sought to protect his estate from her. Correction: he refused .

The idea that her preconceived notions about him were wrong only heightened the storm of emotions rumbling within her, weakening her already wavering defence.

“What if I want to be with someone else?”

She’d said it to rile him up but the instant his smile dropped, she regretted it. The hard edge that crept into his face wasn’t hidden, and suddenly she knew the answer to her question. Honestly, she’d known it all along.

“Make no mistake,” he said, his light tone belying his seriousness, “you can hate me all you want, but there will be only one man in your life. Me. Or if we have a son, then I’ll share. I’d prefer a girl first however.”

Her mouth fell open, less in surprise and more at the idea that he’d thought about children with her. It was disconcerting how much her body ached at the mention of a baby. Of a family. “You’re crazy.”

“For you? Completely.”

“What will it take for you to accept that this relationship has an expiration date?”

“What will it take for you to accept that underneath all that hate you claim to have, you still love me?”

Trapped by his knowing look, she turned away, her hands shaking as she wiped one cold palm across her face. The battle within her raged, one side wanting to hold onto her pride and the other urging her to succumb to the happiness he offered. Their painful breakup had overshadowed every good memory, but she hadn’t forgotten the sense of complete acceptance and security she’d experienced with Vihaan. It was also why she’d never gotten over him. Because no other man could’ve measured up to that. Loving her with all her faults wasn’t for the faint of heart, yet Vihaan was here, claiming to do exactly that. The scared girl in her couldn’t help but question how long this would last. How long before he gave up and left?

Like an answer to her unspoken question, she heard his voice from behind her .

“I’m never going to stop fighting for us, Vera. If you don’t want that, then you better hope that I die soon because that’s the only way you’ll stop being my wife.”

She shook her head, trying to shed that odd feeling of want every time he called her his wife.

“I’m going to find a different bedroom,” she mumbled. “You and your delusions can live here alone.”

Before she’d taken another step, Vera found herself being tugged into Vihaan’s lap, his arms closing around her waist like a python embracing its prey. The suddenness of his action took her breath away, her breasts heaving against his forearm as he held her captive. Her free arm gripped his shoulder when he turned her body inwards, guiding her to sit facing him.

“I choose you. And I will wait until you choose me back. That’s not a threat or a promise. It is an indication of how I intend to live my life because giving you up is not an option. So, for better or for worse, until you trust me again, I will accept your anger, your disdain, and your need to hate me. And I will choose to love you every single day.”

His words curled in her ear, weaving themselves into her psyche until she felt bewitched, utterly mesmerised by this powerful man who seemed so willing to fall apart at her feet. Her mouth parted softly, need coiling low and hot when her eyes dropped to his supple lips, knowing the fire they lit when they touched her skin. God, she wanted the pressure of his mouth on hers, and his weight holding her down. The mere recollection of how he moved between her legs, how well he filled and stretched her, had her womb clenching uselessly around air.

Like a herd of thundering rhinos rushing down the Savannah, her heart thumped against her chest so hard that she was sure he could hear it. Unconsciously, she traced up the line of his jaw to his high cheekbone, the darkening stubble making her want to rake her nails across his face to tease him, just to see if she could make him shudder in need like he’d done to her before. The painful digging of his fingers into her waist broke her trance. Her eyes snapped to his, widening when she realised how far she’d allowed her mind to wander. Skin flushed red all down his neck and chest, Vihaan looked like he was seconds away from spreading her knees apart and rutting into her like an animal. Instead of scaring her, the idea only sent a familiar pulse of desire through her.

“Keep looking at me like that and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. I’d love nothing more than to fuck my way into your heart but not if it gives you a reason to continue shutting me out. If we have sex henceforth, it will be because you know you’re mine. No more distances, no talk of separation. Do you agree?”

“No.” Yes.

Vihaan’s gaze grew shuttered. “Then I suggest you get off my lap and get into my bed, like a good wife. If you try to sleep anywhere else, know that there is nowhere you can go where I will not follow.”

Vera slid off his lap on embarrassingly shaky legs and crawled under her covers. His raspy threat rang in her ears, sounding more and more like a promise she wouldn’t mind putting to the test. Frustration, indecision and unfulfilled desires had her squirming, her body and mind fighting a war that wouldn’t allow her to relax. She continued to shift and fidget well after the lights turned off.

“Princess,” Vihaan called after a solid ten minutes of Vera behaving like someone was poking her in the ass. “Do you have a damn pea stuck under your side of the bed? Why the fuck are you bouncing around so much?”

She let out an aggrieved humph and flopped onto her back, her hands folded over her abdomen atop the comforter that felt like it was made of butter. “Why do you insist on this?”

“Insist on what? Sleeping? Not wanting to feel like an earthquake is ripping right under our house because you won’t let me fuck the wiggles out of you?! ”

Her face grew hot, her hand automatically smacking him on the stomach before she drew away, cursing herself for showing such familiarity with his body again. Damn, his abs were so firm, her palm hurt.

“On pretending that this marriage is real,” she grouched. “Giving me gold bangles and trying to force the broken pieces of our relationship together won’t make us whole again. We can’t go back to what we used to be.”

There was a long pause before she heard him shift, his body rolling toward her.

“I’m not looking for what used to be. The Vihaan of the past was an immature fool who let his pride dictate his emotions. I’m not him.”

“Too much has happened,” she sighed, focusing on the random shadows cast upon the ceiling above. “You lived without me just fine. You have no reason to hold on—”

“I do.” He inhaled deeply before he answered her, his voice laced with hurt. “From the first memory I have as a child until we broke up, you are at the forefront of every milestone. I did everything possible to fill the emptiness in me when you weren’t there. Women, parties, alcohol—anything to help me forget you. No matter what I did, that hollow space only grew every passing day. Until we met again, and I felt. . . complete. I do not know myself when I’m separated from you, as surely as I know I’ll never be rid of this obsession with you.”

He sounded so sad that Vera was tempted to do something utterly crazy—like gather him in her embrace and console him, apologise even. But her body remained locked in position, as much a prisoner to her ego as she was her fear. It was some time before she turned, adjusting her cheek against the cool edge of her pillow and curling inwards to face him, their bodies a mere foot apart, hands so close that she could feel the heat of his skin warming hers.

“How can you claim to love me when you’ve admitted that it’s your obsession driving your actions?” There was no accusation in her tone, only curiosity.

“Setting someone you love free is a defeatist philosophy for people who’ve either already lost or are unwilling to fight. My love for you is an obsession. Whether you see that as a good or a bad thing is up to you. But you can be certain that I will obsessively fight for a life with you.”

The gentle light diffusing through the curtains meant that she could make out his expression even in the dark. Perhaps it was the absolute certainty in Vihaan’s voice or the indisputable adoration in his gaze that finally calmed her jitters. She slowly succumbed to the lure of sleep, the vision of him watching her dancing under closed eyelids.

A few minutes later, or maybe it was hours into the night, she heard his baritone voice repeat something that only served to pull her treacherous heart deeper under his spell.

“I choose you. Always.”