CHAPTER 38
MAAHI
I follow Vikram to our bedroom wondering how can he leave the conversation without giving me a chance to explain my part. It irks me how he walks away from arguments. That has to change, and it will, gradually. I know the kind of relationships he’s had weren’t strong or connected. Even his parents use him as a commodity to bargain for their profits and social status sometimes. Vikram still has a lot to learn about emotional connection, and I will make sure he does.
I follow Vikram to the bedroom, my heart racing. He's at the walk-in closet, picking out a T-shirt, but the moment he spots me, he makes a beeline for the bathroom. I'm quick to block his path.
“Maahi, don't,” he warns, his voice low.
I stand my ground. “This is what happens when you let your ego do the thinking instead of your head,” I scold, trying to keep my voice steady.
His response is swift and cutting.
“At least I think, Maahi. You just assume, and when it comes to me, you're usually wrong.”
His words sting, bruising my own ego. I take a deep breath, trying to soften my approach.
“I'm sorry for that, Vikram. Those were my old notions about you, but they've changed now. I know there's a good heart behind that stubborn mask of yours, but...” I can't help but giggle as he frowns at my choice of words.
“This isn't funny, Maahi,” Vikram says, clenching his jaw. I quickly compose myself, reaching out to slide my arms around his waist.
“You walking out on me isn't funny either,” I say looking up at him. “Vikram, we've only just started giving this marriage a real chance. We're bound to have countless arguments and differences of opinion, but promise me we'll always see them through to the end, good or bad. Our marriage is already hanging by a thread because we live in different countries. I don't want anything else to pull our hearts apart. Please.”
He silences me with his fingers on my lips, nodding weakly. “I'm a man of few words, Maahi, and I'm used to walking away after making my point. I didn't realize that's not how a relationship works. Forgive me if it upset you.”
I rise on my toes, kissing his jawline softly. “There's so much we both have to learn about relationships. I've never been in one, and you've never had a serious one. We're in for a lot of learning right now.”
“Just stay close to me,” he replies, pulling me closer, “and watch how quickly we become pros at this marriage thing.”
His kiss is soft, yet different and more passionate than ever before. I melt into his embrace, my fingers sliding into his hair as I return his kiss with equal fervor. The thought crosses my mind: if I leave for India without him, this man will surely be the death of me.
Suddenly, a loud knock on the bedroom door breaks our moment. Someone enters – I realize I forgot to lock the door when I followed Vikram in.
“Daadi?” Vikram smiles, breaking the kiss as if it's perfectly normal for his grandmother to walk in on us like this.
“I...” Daadi pauses, taking in my flushed face as I turn around. Realizing she's interrupted a private moment, she quickly apologizes. “I am... so sorry... I'll come back later.”
“No,” I stop her, flustered. “Daadi, we weren't... I mean, we... we were just talking...”
“Arguing,” Vikram interjects with a grin. “Which later turned romantic and kissy...”
“Vikram!” I scold him, trying to hide my deepening blush. “Daadi, he's lying.”
Vikram reaches us, purposely giving me a tight hug from behind. “Don't believe her, Daadi. She's not what she seems.”
I shrug his arms off, my face burning. “I'm not what I seem? How dare you say that?” I playfully hit his chest, struggling to contain my embarrassment.
“Alright, you two,” Daadi chuckles. “Continue your 'arguments.' I came to tell you that I have plans with my new friends today. So don't include me in your plans. Enjoy your day together.”
I sigh, asking, “You're going out?”
“Yes, I won't be back until late evening,” she replies.
Vikram starts to offer, “I'll arrange a car for you,” but Daadi stops him.
“Vanraj has already done that. I can't believe he's showing some interest in my comfort and care,” she says, looking pleased.
As Vikram and I exchange confused glances, Daadi winks at us and hurries back to her room. I shut the door, turning to face Vikram again.
“Strange,” he mutters.
“You think there's a hidden motive behind your father's actions?” I ask, curious.
He rubs his palms over his face, considering. “It's hard to read what's going on in his mind sometimes. But if he's genuinely taking up his responsibilities, I'm happy.”
“So am I,” I smile back, feeling a glimmer of hope for our complex family dynamics.