& Then They Loved (Ampersand Love #3)

45. Home

45

Home

Vera

A few weeks later—

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

With every slap of her slippered feet against the cool floors of her house, Vera chanted this mantra to keep her head from exploding.

“Do you have to leave right now?” she asked, louder than she’d intended to be when she skidded to a halt just behind the man she’d been trailing.

“I have work,” Vihaan replied, his attention on his phone. “Go back to sleep, it’s early yet.”

“We need to talk.”

“Later, I have something important to get to.”

Vera reached out and clutched the back of his jacket, spinning him around before angrily snarking out a reprimand. “You’ve had something important every morning for weeks! Make some time right fucking now. What I have to say is important and— ”

“You’re making a scene, Vera. My PA is here. Our employees are here.” His eyes fell to her cleavage, his throat bobbing before he stepped closer, blocking her from everyone’s view. “You’re barely clothed,” he bit out, his voice audible only to her. He reached out to possessively wrap the house coat around her tighter, making her roll her eyes. “Get yourself inside, right now.”

Lower lip jutting out in a stubborn pout, she tapped her foot, hands on her hips as she glared at him.

“I wouldn’t have to run after you in a disarray if I could get hold of you, you. . . you. . . dung-filled, fungus-loving, waffle-brain!”

“Did you just call me a waffle-brain?”

“Fungus-loving,” she reiterated with a glare.

The flicker of a smile on his austere face had all the anger draining from Vera. She missed that smile. She missed his easy-going charm and his steady presence. God, she missed him so much.

“We need to talk, Vihaan,” she cajoled, hoping he’d listen. “We need to talk about us.”

And just like that, he went stiff. Dodging her eyes like he was a criminal hiding a secret, he shook his head. “I’m busy. Later.”

“But Vi—”

Before she could try and hold him back, Vihaan spun on his heel and slid into the back seat of his car, slamming the door shut between them.

Vera watched in shock as he deliberately pretended to not see her, staring straight ahead as the car slowly began to roll forward, waiting for their remote operated gates to open. Her hands shook with impotent rage, frustration making her slide one slipper off and chuck it at her husband’s car like a furious fishwife.

His head whipped in her direction, his expression incredulous, a little twitch in his jaw that could have been either irritation or amusement. Vera couldn’t tell.

Unfortunately, whatever emotion he’d experienced wasn’t enough to make him change his mind and come back to her. She watched quietly as his sleek car turned right and disappeared out their driveway. Jaws clenched together so hard that someone would need to pry them apart, she spun away and stomped back into her bedroom, making far too much noise for one human. It was the only way she could release her pent-up stress.

She brushed her teeth a little too aggressively, pulled her hair a bit too tightly into a pony and wore the tallest heels she had into work, ready to rip apart anyone who pissed her off. Unfortunately, all the fools in the world had decided to steer clear of Vera Talwar-Oberoi that morning, thereby denying her the satisfaction of unloading her frustration on someone.

By the time she returned home to an empty dinner table and an absent husband yet again, she was ready to set fire to something. Ignoring the concerned looks shared by the house staff, she marched into her bedroom and pulled out her suitcases, yanking off clothes from the closet and dumping it in. She would get Vihaan to pay her attention alright. And she would do it with a bonfire so big, the smoke from it would linger in his lungs for the rest of his life as a reminder to not push his wife past the point of her patience.

One by one, she pulled a shirt off its hanger, then a pant, then a jacket. And as she reached for one of the final pieces of clothing she was packing away, she stopped, her hand hovering over a familiar t-shirt with a faded MTV logo on it. Vihaan’s t-shirt—one she had stolen a couple of weeks ago to sleep in when she’d been missing him. Her fingers tightened over the soft cotton as she walked out, making her way to the armchair just outside her closet. Nose buried in the fabric, she inhaled deeply, his lingering scent calming her previous frenzy.

She slumped back with a sigh, unable to reconcile all that had changed in the weeks since she’d been orphaned.

She barely remembered much of the days that immediately followed Nanu’s demise, only that they flew by in a daze. Vihaan had handled everything for the funeral, including strong-arming the priest into keeping silent while she lit the cremation pyre instead of a male relative. No androcentric practice would keep his wife from saying farewell to her grandfather, he’d growled, ready to fight for the closure he knew she needed. Every moment of that first week had been with Vihaan’s presence around her, hovering nearby in case she needed him, lovingly bullying her into eating, watching over her as she slept and shadowing her as she learned to exist without her grandfather.

He was there all the time. Until he suddenly wasn’t.

With their friends and her in-laws around for support, she’d been overwhelmed with their complete acceptance of her. Now that she had more moments of clarity, she recognised what a blessing it was to be loved like this. To have a community to lean on in times of need. She’d done everything alone for so long, believing no one would be able to shoulder her burdens with her, that to be proven wrong during such trying times was as startling as it was freeing.

Each night, Vihaan would hold her, let her grieve, kiss her, murmur words of strength and care, often making love to her so slowly, so preciously, that she’d slide into an exhausted slumber right after. She would wake up to a cold, empty bed however, and a long-gone husband who would once more return only at night to comfort her in the confines of their room. Five weeks later, everyone had left, and Vera was slowly coming to terms with the loss of her grandfather. What she couldn’t fathom was how she had somehow lost her husband too.

She had thought this would happen earlier, if it had to. Before she’d let him get close again. Before she’d lost Nanaji. Ever since the post-death rituals were complete, Vihaan had changed. He managed to be with her and still remain distant. Did he regret marrying her so hastily? He’d made umpteen promises, but had he changed his mind already? Questions like these had given rise to insecurities in her, causing her no little aggravation .

Life’s uncertainties had been laid bare before them. A person who’d been physically present a few weeks ago had become a memory, never to occupy anything more than space in her mind and heart. Death was inevitable. She knew that. Experiencing loss and grief had given her a new perspective, however. She had no business wasting time holding on to her feelings for fear of being disappointed again.

Thirty-one years of life with Nanaji and his love still felt too short. She knew herself enough to recognize that the rest of her life with Vihaan’s love would still not be long enough. The kind of affection she craved, even when she wasn’t able to express it in words, Vihaan understood it.

She’d given space to her hurt, to her fears and ego, refusing to believe he’d changed. She’d rejected him, repeatedly. Stubbornness and anger were her weaknesses, her grandfather had often warned. But they had also served her as an armour when she was at her lowest. Vihaan, with his indomitable patience, had managed to obliterate those shields. She trusted him, and losing Nanu had catapulted her into a full acceptance of just how deeply she loved him.

If only she could catch her sneaky husband and tell him this. She was going to go absolutely insane if she had to wait any longer.

Day after day, these emotions bubbled furiously in her, and day after day, she had to stuff them back in because Vihaan was either not home, or in a rush to go somewhere. He’d been working so much, often citing some new project or a client meeting, that Vera was starting to wonder if he was taking on projects just to avoid her.

She shook the paranoia off, determinedly rolling each suitcase out into the hallway.

Enough was enough. Her patience was at an end. The confession she’d wanted to make to him was ready to burst forth like air from a burgeoning balloon. The time for romantic settings and flowery admissions was long gone. At this point, he’d be lucky if she didn’t yell the words at him. Or punch him .

“What is going on here?”

Vera startled, glancing up to see a furious Vihaan lumbering down the hallway.

“Why are there bags in the hall? Are you trying to leave?”

“Wh—” Her eyes narrowed when she caught the barely hidden panic in his expression. In the distant corner, she saw one of the staff peeking at them, hurriedly rushing off when she made eye contact. “Someone called you?”

“Should they not have? Where are you packing to go?”

Go? Her gaze dropped to the mess of suitcases nearby. Oh. Just as quickly as she made that connection, she relaxed her brows, her shrewd mind finding a new route to torture the truth out of him.

“I’m going home,” she lied, heading back into the privacy of their bedroom, trying hard not to react when the door slammed shut behind her.

“This is your home.”

“I’m going to my home,“ she reiterated, facing him slowly. “Now that Nanu is gone, I don’t see any reason for us to continue being together.”

She almost felt terrible for the way Vihaan went white, the stillness in his body telling her that he’d stopped breathing. The vein at the side of his head popped dangerously, his jaw flexing like he was having a hard time swallowing after hearing her ask for a break.

“I should have known you’d do something like this,” he mumbled under his breath. “I thought I could put it off by staying away.”

Brows furrowed, she scrunched her nose. “What?”

“I fucking dare you to try and leave me,” he snarled, a manic look in his eyes. “You won’t get far before I drag you back.”

Relief surged in her with the confirmation that he still wanted her. But then, why had he been so aloof?

“Why should I stay?”

“Because you’re my wife!” he exclaimed, pointing at her before jabbing his finger into his own chest for emphasis. “Mine! ”

“What the hell kind of a wife am I who only meets her husband at night and doesn’t see him in the daylight?”

“I was giving you space.”

“For what?”

“To recover from Nanaji’s passing. To not let your grief drive you to hate me even more.”

That stopped her short. Head tilted to the side, she could do nothing but stare at his anguished face, completely at a loss to explain why he looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown.

“Do you think it has been easy for me to stay away from you?” Vihaan continued, his apprehension about what Vera would do once her grief ebbed finally bubbling to the surface. “I’ve been going crazy, working myself to the bone to stop from running to you like a pathetic dog and begging you to not leave me. I wake up each morning wondering if that’s the day you’ll look at me and call it quits. All I want is to be next to you, but I can’t. You married me for Nanu’s sake. Without him, I’m of no use to you and I don’t know what to do to change that.”

In the throes of his own pain, Vihaan missed the flabbergasted look on her face.

“You thought you’d have no one after he passed away. I heard you. And I foolishly hoped that surrounding you with everyone would make it better. I stayed away to give you time to see that you aren’t alone. Even if you didn’t need me, you had other people who’d come to care for you.” His tortured gaze met hers, and she couldn’t breathe. How could he have hidden so much of his anguish from her?

“If I could take Nanaji’s place and bring him back for you, I would do it, Vera.”

“Stop.” Her words were barely a whisper—his undisguised pain had deprived her of her voice.

“I know I’m not who you want, but I won’t let you leave me. If you’re going to destroy me by walking out of our marriage, then you may as well run a knife through my heart because I won’t survive the wreckage of your departure anyway.”

His declaration hung heavy between them, enough to separate them for a moment but not enough to keep them apart. Vera observed the stubborn pout of his lips, contrasting with the utter despair in his eyes, and she felt an overwhelming need to protect this man who was so precious to her. Who held back so much of his wounds so that she only saw his smiles. Who had given her strength all while falling apart himself.

“Are you done now?” she asked softly, taking a step towards him.

“Ver—”

She crossed the two feet between them before he could finish saying her name, grabbing him by his collar and jerking him down towards her. Her lips pressed firmly against his, kissing him with the authority of a woman who knew how deeply loved she was by the man in her embrace. And how ardently she loved him in return.

When he tried to pull away in surprise, her fingers speared his hair, cupping his head and holding him captive. Again and again, she went back, nipping his lower lip in punishment before drawing it into her mouth. Instantly, his hands gripped her waist, moulding her body into his, his tongue darting out to tangle with hers in a dance that was theirs and theirs alone. When she paused to take a breath, his lips were pink and glistening from her ardour, swollen with how hard she’d kissed him.

Eyes locked, she tightened her fingers about the lapels of his suit, shaking him lightly. “Nanu lived a full life. I miss him and I always will. But no, I don’t want to lose you to get him back. You are not replaceable.”

“I’m. . . I’m not?”

Being kicked in the gut would have hurt less than the soft, stuttered question, his vulnerabilities laid bare for her to see. Shame and regret plucked at her, knowing that this unsurety of his importance in her life was because of her silence .

“No, sweetheart,” she said, her emotions rushing up to clog her throat, the pressure between her eyes causing them to fill embarrassingly quickly. “Who you are is the man I need to hold me close every day and love me through every storm. Who you are is the only man who gets to call me Princess without incurring a black eye.”

His face held tenderly between her palms, she raised herself on her tiptoes to brush the softest kiss across his mouth, finally treating him as preciously as he deserved.

His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer than she already was, the tightness in him draining with every word.

“You are frustrating, charming, and obnoxiously inappropriate at the most random times. You make me laugh and feel so thoroughly loved that I cannot live without it anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t done that for you yet. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say what I should have long ago. But that changes, starting now. You are mine . Forever . I choose you—my husband, my friend, the love of my life, my happily-ever-after.”

Optimism lit his face, the disbelief in his eyes slowly replaced by something she hadn’t seen in him in a long time: joy—pure, unadulterated by fear and grief.

“I am deeply, and completely, in love with you. I miss you,” she sniffed, her vision fully blurry now. “Please stop staying away from me because I need you. Not our friends, not your parents. Only you.”

Rough fingers came up to flick away her tears, eager lips kissing them off her skin, drawing lower until his face was buried in her neck and his arms wrapped around her body like she was his last tether to life. His breath released against her in a drawn-out shudder, rocking her gently. His large body melted into her even as he mumbled, “You better not be joking because I’ll make you pay.”

“The bags out in the hall have your clothes, not mine. I was never planning on leaving you, or our home. ”

His hold on her slackened at her confession, straightening to gape at her. “Excuse me?”

Lips twisted to the side in a pout, Vera shrugged, nervously dusting invisible lint off his shoulders. “I was going to burn all your expensive suits as payback for ignoring me.”

Vihaan’s mouth dropped open, causing her to flush at his shock.

“I didn’t know how else to get your attention! I felt like I was losing you just when I found you again.”

A huff of incredulity escaped him. He stopped, another snort shooting out before he could prevent it, his body trembling in barely subdued mirth as the truth of his dramatic confrontation finally hit. Vera chuckled at his amusement, her palms drawing up his chest until they looped around his neck, affectionately playing with the hair at his nape.

“You’ll never lose me, Princess,” Vihaan said, drawing her into his embrace. “As long as I exist, I will claw my way back to you. Every single time.”

“Promise?”

His mouth brushed against hers, rough palms cradling her face as he kissed her softly.

“Promise.”