Chapter 25 Suman
My heart was heavy at that moment, but it was better than it had been. The silence between us felt soothing, and I gazed at his face.
“Maybe,” he replied, and I looked at my fingers moving in his curly hair. He closed his eyes and added, “I understand you, Suman. I know what you are feeling, and you didn’t hurt me.”
I inhaled deeply, feeling a pang in my chest.
I lowered my gaze, and I bit my lip before asking. “What happens now?”
He inhaled sharply, adjusted his head on my lap, and muttered, “Nothing, just be yourself and happy.”
I smiled weakly. It felt peaceful after the storm had passed.
“But I hurt you,” I said in a low tone.
He shook his head, smiled, lifted his gaze a little at me, and said, “Bas ek tum hi to ho jo peeda bhi dogi to dawa jaisa lagega. To dukh kaisa?”
“It is only from you that even the pain feels like a cure. So what’s there to be upset about?”
His words made me feel different, and I couldn’t help but lower my hand to his cheeks and feather it gently. “Hum aapse ghruna nahi karte,”
“I don’t hate you.”
My confession made him smile widely, and he nodded in response. “Kar bhi nahi paaogi,”
“You’ll not be able to.” He inhaled deeply and looked up at me. “But don’t sympathise with me. I don’t need that,” he added, and I gulped silently, unable to say anything.
He closed his eyes, and I continued to massage his head gently. I felt uneasy about everything. It wasn’t just what he said, but something more profound. I sensed I had seen this coming before, even if I didn’t understand how.
His outburst and initial attempt to distance himself made me suspect he had a dark side.
But he was unlike other men. He was there for me, not just to rescue me, but also afterwards when I needed him.
I visited his chamber the other day, and he said nothing. He understood that I just needed some silence and his presence. I didn’t realise it then, but I know he hurt me, yet he was the only one who made me feel good.
After that incident, he became my comfort. Nothing could go wrong when I was with him.
“Tell me, Suman,” he asked in a low voice, and I blinked nervously.
“What?”
He held my hand with his bandaged one and kissed my fingers before saying, “Everything that is bothering you.” His voice deepened and grew more peaceful, and I smiled.
“I don’t know, Kunwar-sa,” I started, clasping his fingers in my hand as I continued. “I’m terrified.”
He smiled and replied, “That’s okay. It’s not something you hear every day.”
I bit my lips and shifted his head off my lap; he raised his gaze to meet mine, filled with confusion and pain.
I clenched my skirt tightly and stepped into the pool. His expression shifted from confusion to shock.
His eyes widened as I let the water soak my skirt. I lowered myself to sit beside him.
He watched me as I pressed my back against the pool wall, pulled my knees close to my chest, and took a deep breath to steady my racing heart.
I gulped nervously and rested my head on his shoulder, saying, “My head hurts, too.”
I felt his body relax under my touch as he tilted his head against mine. I looked at him, intertwining our fingers before closing my eyes.
Finally, I felt at peace and comfort.
The water temperature dropped from high to low, and the oil in the lamps burned against the emptiness to brighten the world. However, when night arrived, no light could bring back the brightness.
“Maybe I should have hidden that from you. I can’t stand seeing you in pain,” he muttered slowly. I opened my eyes and looked at our hands.
The skin was turning pale from the cold water, freezing us slowly, and I bit my lip.
“Maybe, but hearing it from someone else would’ve hurt me even more,” my voice came out slow.
“No one can come between us, Suman, if you accept me as your husband,” he responded. Hearing his low, hoarse voice, I lowered my gaze and shook my head.
“What if I am not enough for you?” I asked in a low voice, and he chuckled suddenly.
“Murkh ho tum?”
“Are you mad?” I thinned my brows with confusion and turned to look at him. “Jo bhi ho, jitni bhi ho, ab tum hi ho. Maang bhar di hai na. Vikalp nahi hai humaare paas,”
“Whatever you are, however you are, now it’s just you. I claimed you as my wife, so I’m not left with any options.”
“What if you had options?” I asked carefully, afraid of what his answer would be.
He lowered his gaze, kissed the back of my hand, and muttered, “Pata hai, bahut saahas lagta hai jab aap apne jeevan ka wo satya kisi ko bataate ho jisse aap swayam kabhi smaran nahi karna chaahte—jisse aap pratidin door bhaagte ho tatha bachna chahte ho. Tumhaari saugandh, Suman, punah kisi ko nahi bata paayenge, itna saahas nahi hai. Aur ab to ye aasha bhi nahi hai ki koi samjhe kyunki samajhne yogya nahi rahein ab hum,”
“You know, it takes a lot of courage to share that part of your life with someone you never want even to recall—the part you run away from every day. I swear to you, Suman, I’ll never be able to share this truth with anyone ever again, because I’m not left with that courage.
And I don’t expect anyone to understand anymore because I don’t deserve that. ”
His words made my heart heavy, and I lowered my gaze in silence, unable to respond.
“Then why did you tell me?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
He inhaled deeply and brushed my hand with his thumb as he spoke. “Patni ho, adhikaar hai tumhaara or aawashyak bhi hai tumhara jaanne ka,”
“You are my wife; it’s your right and the necessity to know.”
I didn’t know, but it brought a slight smile to my lips, and I turned to look at him. “I have not accepted you yet,” and he smiled weakly. “And you are so unpredictable and confusing,” I added, furrowing my brows.
“How?”
“One moment you say you can leave me, and the next, you call me your wife,” I said.
He sucked his lip and replied slowly, “For me to call you my wife is my reality, and you have the right to make your own choices; your life is yours. No one can stop you from saying you don’t want to see me, or that you want to forget me, or that you wish to live alone or marry someone else.
That’s your right, but I am not backing out of my responsibilities or feelings. ”
His words resonated with me, and I didn’t know why, but hearing him made me feel lighter. It was as if he was lifting some weight off my chest.
“So what happens if I marry someone else?” I asked.
He furrowed his brows and raised his face to look at me with questioning eyes.
“Are you having an affair?” I quickly shook my head, my eyes widening in shock.
“Are you crazy? No!”
He leaned closer. “Just joking. I’ll be happy for you,” he spoke in a low tone, then suddenly raised his pitch. “But that man has to keep you happy. I mean, there’s no way he would ask you to cook after having sex and make you cry,” he said, and I chuckled.
“You cannot keep an eye on him.”
He shook his head. “That’s where you are mistaken, Sumanika Ji. I can keep an eye on him and take him out for hurting you, too.”
He turned his gaze toward me, and I felt a shiver go down my spine when he mentioned killing my hypothetical husband.
“You need therapy. I’m not even married yet, and you already wish to kill him,” I said and lowered my gaze.
He leaned closer and kissed my forehead. “Just be happy. I don’t want anything else. I don’t need answers; I don’t want you to be with me if it makes you unhappy or causes you to doubt yourself. No promises, no heartbreaks,” he said, and I gulped silently, leaning on his shoulder.
“I feel comfortable with you. I don’t know why. No man has ever made me feel this way. I can’t let go of this comfort.” It took a lot of courage to put that into words.
“I’m happy to be that,” he said, and I lowered my gaze.
“You know, when you’re upset, the world can tell,” I said slowly, and he chuckled.
“Trust me, when I’m upset, no one can tell,” he whispered.
I lifted my gaze to meet his; those green eyes made my heart race effortlessly.
“Why didn’t you tell your brothers about all of this?” I asked.
“It was not, is not, and will never be something I am proud of,” he said, looking away briefly. “So, it’s not worth sharing. What has happened has happened. Talking about it won’t undo it or wash it away. It will just hurt them and bring me back to where I was running away from.”
I couldn’t help but smile weakly while nodding.
“I can relate to that. I can’t share everything about my failures either; I mean, I can’t talk about my deceased husband and the life I went through with everyone because, honestly, even mentioning it hurts,” I replied, and he smiled.
“No, talking about it with the right person will never hurt—someone you trust to understand and just be with you. Like, Bhabhi-sa,” he said, and I felt a pang in my chest, lowering my gaze as I remembered how he was there for me when I needed him.
“Like you, Kunwar Agastya,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to meet his.
Suddenly, he leaned closer, and my heart raced while my breathing quickened. My lips quivered, but he stopped just an inch away.
My flickering gaze dropped to his soft, full lips, and then to his eyes.
“I’m not making any commitments, Kunwar-sa,” I whispered, and he shook his head.
“I don’t need commitments.”
I gulped nervously and asked, “What would this mean?”
He gulped, looking into my eyes. “Anything you want it to mean?”
I clenched my hands tightly and closed my eyes slightly in fear.
I waited, feeling the air rising to greet his lips on mine, but I felt those soft, dark pink petals against my nose.
Calming down instantly, I loosened my grip and opened my eyes to meet his.
“You should go now,” he said, and I didn’t understand why it tightened my chest.
“Okay,” I muttered.
As his hand slipped away from mine, an ache bubbled within me, a longing to forget everything and hold him tightly for both our sakes. I felt a heaviness inside me; I wanted to kiss him and tell him I was scared, but I still wanted to be with him.
However, the fear of being hurt again won out, and I silently stood to leave.
When I took a few steps away, letting the water drop off my clothes, he called out, “Suman,”
I turned back immediately. “Ji?”
“A shawl will be there; take it; it must be windy, or you’ll catch a cold.”
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