Chapter 37
“Hmm.” Amaal turned her face away, trying to wipe her eyes on her shoulder.
A part of her wanted to say no, not ready yet.
A part of her wanted to say no just out of spite.
A part of her wanted to push him away because of his history.
But another part knew that if she said no now, there was no coming back.
Neither would she return, nor would he ask again.
Her gut was kicking her to not let him go. There was something here, something stronger than ever, even with everything that had passed.
She sniffed, pulling her arms from where they were trapped under his.
And he let her go. His hands trailed down her shoulders, down her arms and off her fingers.
And the lingering memory of that touch sent electric sparks through her nerves.
Amaal found her hands free and wiped her face with them, scrubbing until it hurt, buying time before she had to meet his eyes.
She had known Samar Dixit for half a decade. And now, she didn’t know how to look at him.
“Amaal.”
“Hmm?” She thumbed her mascara-coated eyelashes and gave him a haughty look. The unyielding expression on his face broke into a smile. A tender smile. She had never seen him like that.
He pushed his hands into his pockets and took a step back, his eyes going to her mouth once before coming back up.
“What, Amaal?” She yelled.
His smile deepened. The crease on his cheekbone appeared. His stubbled jaw stretched with laugh lines creasing it. How had she never noticed them? Or had he never smiled like this?
“What are you laughing at?”
“I am not laughing.”
“You never look like this. It’s getting creepy,” she lied. It was the most beautiful expression she had ever seen. Not just on his face, on any face.
“After how I have treated you again and again, you did not have to give me this chance,” he said. “I am not a good man, but I am not bad either. I am smiling because after years a victory has fallen into my lap that I did not deserve. You, I don’t deserve.”
“We are not on this earth to love only those who deserve.”
His smile melted. Dark eyes went deeper.
“When you look at me like that,” his voice scraped. “You make me believe you see something that still must be good inside me.”
“Isn’t there?”
“You ask after knowing everything?”
“I don’t know everything.”
His mouth tipped on one side.
“You are still a fortress to me.”
“I am not that important.”
“To me, you will become.”
His mouth dropped open. Their eyes remained threaded.
“Go home, now.” She pointed to the gate with her eyes, her heart beating like a drum suddenly.
“I would like to sleep here tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not in your bed,” he cut her off. “On your sofa. I am ordering an alarm system for the house.”
“I am vacating this property in three weeks when the government shifts back to Srinagar.”
“And I am not here that long.”
“No.”
“I did not ask you.”
“If this,” she pointed between them, “means you get to do all this crazy stuff then no thank you.”
“Installing an alarm system because god forbid robbers jump walls in the light of day when you are not home,” he pointed to the 7-feet walls surrounding the property, “drill open one of the metal grilles,” he pointed at the black grilled windows, “then come back at night, slit your watchman’s throat and enter your house while you are sleeping inside your bedroom? Yes, I will.”
“Why do you have an entire robbery plan made in under a minute?”
“Because I think like them. Now move. I will wait here until your watchman comes and then come inside.”
“You can sleep with my watchman.” She whirled and stalked away, feeling tenderness arise from the depths of that momentary rage.
Amaal slowed at the verandah steps and tilted her head enough to get a glimpse of him.
He was still standing there where she had left him, looking at her, probably smiling.
————————————————————
Even though she had ordered him to sleep with the watchman, Amaal opened and readied one of the guest bedrooms. She debated the bedsheets in her cupboard, then picked the most non-girly one — a blue gulmohar Mughal print.
She took some of the pillows from her own collection and parted with the cotton duvet that she used for warmer nights.
He did not look like a man who would feel too cold.
Her silk duvet was too thick and too warm for him.
She filled a jug of water and placed it by his bedside.
Then placed a folded napkin and a towel if he wanted a shower.
Would it make sense to lay out a toothbrush and toothpaste box at this point or offer it to him in the morning?
Amaal looked around at the room that had remained closed for so long.
Dust was darkening the fan and the ceiling.
Her cramping wasn’t too bad now but she didn’t have the energy to climb up and clean them.
This would have to do.
She tried all the switches and fans, then discovered that the AC did not work on any other mode but fan mode. Amaal panicked. She began to run to the next room to check, making a list of the things to shift from the first room when the doorbell rang.
“Fuck.”
She stood in the alley between two rooms, debating whether she had enough time to check the second room when the doorbell went off again.
“Amaal!” He thumped the door.
“What?!” She ran to it and pulled it open. “Why are you beating down the door?”
“You wouldn’t open it. I thought you really meant for me to sleep outside.”
“Then why are you still here?”
The wind blew her hair across her face and she used her hands to tuck as many strands as she could behind her ear.
“May I?” His hands came to her shoulders.
She stilled. His hands stilled. She eyed his hands, then gave a small nod.
And his knuckles tenderly brushed the hair behind her shoulders.
They touched the surface of her throat and those electric sparks were back as he twisted her hair behind her back so that it wouldn’t fly.
Her chest was beating like a drum again.
“I’ll be outside.” He stepped back. “Lock the kitchen door, I will check it in ten minutes.” Samar turned to walk away and she caught his elbow — “Hey!” She called out. “You can’t seriously be meaning to sleep with the watchman.”
“You asked me to.”
She shook her head, pulling him back, unable to keep her smile off her face — “Come in.”
He stepped up on her threshold, then turned to do a once-over of the vast gardens. Amaal noted he had switched on all the lights in the gardens. She stepped back, letting him do his thing before he closed the door and bolted it.
He took off his shoes and strode to her kitchen, instinctively aware of the ways as he opened that door, did the same once-over, then shut it and locked it.
“How do you know I have a kitchen door?”
“I did a recce outside.” He checked the kitchen window. “This house is made for Z security and a whole three-generation family. What was Khatriji thinking giving it you?”
“That it’s closer to work and rent-free for me?”
He cut his eyes to her — “You don’t need to save on rent.”
“You don’t know my current salary.”
“I do.”
“Then you also know that I have fallen way behind on my savings.”
“For your house.” He turned, leaning his backside against the kitchen platform and crossing his arms over his chest. “I know that too.”
She pressed her mouth together and he smiled.
“What now?”
“Why do you become so uncomfortable if I smile?”
“Because, newsflash, you never do. It’s prelude to some dragon fire.”
He threw his head back in a bark of laughter. And her play-acting to keep him on his toes melted.
“Did you smile and laugh like this before also?”
“Hmm?” He was still smiling, meeting her eyes. “Before what?”
“Before SFF and Sia and your baby?”
His smile remained, but it slowly lost its spark. Samar adjusted his specs, pulled out his car key and held it out to her.
“What?” She snapped, knowing something she didn’t like was coming.
“The baby was not mine.”
Amaal froze.
“But… you said…” she stammered. “You… Chaturvedi and her baby you said, you said…”
“I did not say anything, you assumed.”
“And you let me.” Her temper rose.
He gave a nod.
She opened her mouth but he beat her to it — “Listen to me before you draw any conclusions.”
Amaal was angry, but she also knew how sensitive this topic was for him. That he was talking to her about it without falling into an emotional seizure was a win. But she still held her own, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Sia Chaturvedi was happily married to Avneesh Chaturvedi. He worked in Rakesh Sarabhai Space Research.”
“And you did not… you did not…” Her hands fell down to her sides. “Love her?”
“I was not in love with her.”
“How is that different?”
“Everybody just assumed later on, that I must have harboured strong feelings for her because I went crazy to get her back, and then just… stopped functioning when she was gone. Even Atharva thought I was in love with her.”
“But you weren’t.”
“Before we were captured, I was very impressed by her fearless spirit and her grit. Where I come from, women don’t become pilots and chew tobacco to win a bet and bottom up tequila until their opponent drops dead.
She did it all, and even told us about her Bollywood love story with Avneesh.
In captivity though… something different snapped in place between us.
It’s a different kind of bond. You don’t talk much, but in torture, when you do not look away from each other’s eyes, do not break, draw strength from each other’s grit when the breaking point comes, and fly out of your own body to keep from giving up…
it does something. That happened between Chaturvedi and me.
” He swallowed, his eyes not leaving hers.
Amaal felt goosebumps erupt all over her arms.