CHAPTER 43
MAAHI
I wake up in Vikram's arms. It's been weeks since we've slept together, and he's still in a deep slumber. I don't know when he came to bed last night, and I wish I could have stayed awake to welcome him. Gently, I brush my fingers through his hair and peck his lips before starting my day.
After my shower, Vikram's still asleep, so I head downstairs to make breakfast and postpone a few meetings with the new designers to afternoon and decide to spend the morning time with Vikram as I am aware, he might wake up late. When I return around 10:00, he's just out of the shower, shirtless. My eyes linger on his body before meeting his gaze in the mirror.
“Slept well?” I ask, moving to the wardrobe to help him dress.
“I did,” he replies, hugging me from behind. “Best sleep in the last few weeks.”
“Same here,” I murmur, selecting an olive-green T-shirt and grey pants for him.
“I like it when you pick clothes for me. Mom used to do that when I was young.”
His expression saddens at the thought of her and he returns to the couch.
“Your mom called me yesterday,” I say softly. Vikram's face immediately clouds with concern.
“Is she okay? Why did she call you instead of me?” he asks, his voice tight with worry.
I sigh, choosing my words carefully. “She needed an outlet for her frustration, and who better than the person she sees as the cause of her problems?”
He gently pulls me to sit beside him, his grip on my arm betraying his anxiety. “Did she threaten you? I know Mom can be a bit...”
“She... she cursed me, saying I'd never be happy for taking her son away,” I admit reluctantly.
“Shit,” Vikram groans, running a hand through his hair.
“Vikram, she's not entirely wrong,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I'm not upset about the curse, but I'm worried because she was drunk and awake at that hour.”
I watch as his chest tightens at this information. “Mom's been drinking too frequently lately,” he sighs, disappointment evident in his voice.
My heart aches seeing him so distressed. I run my fingers through his damp hair, trying to offer some comfort. “You need to talk to her.”
“I want to,” he snaps, frustration coloring his tone. “But Mom's ignoring me completely. She won't pick up my calls or answer my messages. I've been trying to reach her ever since I came here, but...”
He leans back on the couch, looking more dejected than ever. “If we side with Daadi, my parents will be hurt. If we do what my parents want, Daadi will be left alone and neglected.”
As I watch him struggle with this impossible situation, an idea suddenly strikes me.
“We don't need to choose sides anymore,” I declare.
Vikram looks confused. “What if they choose each other?” I add, a complete idea forming in my mind. “Remember I told you we need to bridge the gap between your parents and Daadi? I think now is the time.”
“How?” He looks intrigued, and I can't wait to share my plan.
“Your mom loves you a lot, right?”
He nods.
“Great. And you told me she was always beside you whenever you fell sick.”
“That was when I was young, Maahi. Now... I hardly ever fall sick.”
“Which is great, and I hope you never do. But...” I smile. “What if we tell her you're feeling a bit under the weather? I'm sure she'd take the next flight and come here.”
He’s silent for a minute. “What will happen if she comes here? We can't keep her here for a year, Maahi. She won't stay.”
“We just need to bridge the gaps between Daadi and them. So, for however long they stay, we'll use that time to mend things. I'm sure once that's done, they'll understand if we need to toggle between India and the US for business.”
Vikram exhales audibly. “I don't know if this will work, but there's no harm in trying. What should be our first step?” he asks curiously.
“Okay.” I get up excitedly to explain. “If we directly tell her you're sick, she might not believe it. So, we need to do this step by step. She’s not answering your calls or replying to your messages, right?”
He nods again.
“So, send her a voice message. A generic one. Ask her how she is and keep doing this for a week. She'll surely listen and be happy to hear your voice. Then, after a week, when we get back from Udaipur, we drop another message pretending you're sick and missing her. If she doesn’t take the next flight, I'll change my name.”
A ghost of a smile touches Vikram’s lips, and the next instant, he grabs my arm and pulls me onto his lap.
“You are such a good planner,” he whispers, kissing my earlobe.
“Thank you,” I grin.
“I couldn’t skip my work calls to make time with you last night. Did you mind?” he asks sharply.
“Not really. You’re here, and that’s enough. But to be honest, I thought you would appreciate my sexy nightie. I specially bought it for you,” I say, pointing a finger at his bare chest.
He grins. “Maybe if you had worn that saree I gifted you yesterday, I would have ended that call then and there.”
Now it’s my turn to feel breathless. “That saree has a purpose,” I reply shyly.
“A very strong purpose,” he adds, linking our fingers and kissing my fingertips. The next thing I remember is us kissing, with no urgency or hurry. I feel a flutter of happiness. That saree has to be put to use soon. I’m ready to take things further with him, and like he urged, I’m going to surprise him soon... Maybe in Udaipur! Yes, that’s the right place and time for us to finally unite.