ShraMan OS | Tying the Knot

It was over at last. Suman didn't think she'd ever been so glad to see a wedding end at last - now she had only this family dinner to sit through, the focus on the happy, newly-married couple. The smiles on Preeti and Pushkar's faces...that made it worth it, she told herself. They had made every insult, every hurdle she had faced and overcome...all worth it. But, then why did she feel so bone-achingly weary, so hopeless? Why did it hurt so painfully to sit in the same room as the boy she'd called her best friend, the man she was in love with? Amidst all the preparations and planning for the wedding and all its accompanying functions, she'd lost him.

She had made a promise to his father, of course, to stay away from his son...yet, by doing so, she had hurt Shravan. And in return, he had somehow garnered a harsh impression of her, further cemented by how she'd treated him in their childhood - he blamed her for being egoistic, obsessed with her self-respect and image...and how could she counter his assumptions without coming down to the underlying truth? And even if she was honest with him...would he even believe her?

In a way, she realized she had been at fault as well - at fault for lashing out at him when it was clear he was torn between the two families, that furious argument they'd had when her grandfather's health had been wavering - if she had been forced to choose between her family's happiness and her own, his battle had perhaps been as great. Her grandfather was like his own, to accuse him of not caring enough had been unforgivable on her part. Everything was all such a mess between them, she hadn't slept properly in weeks and their already fragile relationship continued to splinter and crack throughout it all. Like a thread that hadn't even been neatly cut in half, but had been intermittently hacked at with a blunt pair of scissors, leaving it frayed and weak around the edges.

She smiled blankly, hardly paid any attention to Vandy Bhabhi's cheerful nattering beside her, however an over-enthusiastic hand-gesture, the culmination of perhaps a little too much wine with her already excitable nature, sent her glass tipping over and spilling onto Suman's saree. She stood up quickly, grabbing a napkin to dab at the prominent stain, but the damage was done.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Vandy exclaimed, trying to help, "I really didn't mean to-"

"I know, I know, it's okay," Suman put a reassuring hand on the other woman's arm, "Accidents happen, it's nothing, don't worry."

"But Suman! You can't sit through the rest of the night like this! Here, come with me, I've got something to help..." Before she could protest, Vandy had gripped her wrist with a surprisingly strong hold and dragged her out of the room and to her own.

Shravan looked up from his discussion with Suman's uncle and frowned when he scanned the room and realized she was missing. Then he berated himself for caring. She had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with him, then why did he bother? Why did he allow himself to open up and take a chance with her, time and time again, when he only ended up getting hurt in the process?

"Shravan puttar!" his aunt approached, "Have you seen Vandy?"

"No, Chachi, she's not with Varun?" he inquired, looking around.

"No, she isn't and I was supposed to keep an eye on her, I think she's had a little too much..." she eyed his wine glass and he nodded with a small grin, getting up, "Don't worry, I'll go look for her and bring her back before she gets into trouble."

He strode down the hall, deciding to check his sister-in-law's bedroom first, perhaps she'd gone to retouch her makeup or fix some imaginary flaw in her outfit. Knocking on the door, he was surprised to hear Suman's voice instead call out, "Vandy Bhabhi?"

He hesitated, unsure to go in or not, but maybe she knew where Vandy was. So he pushed open the door, "Do you know where -" and paused, mid-speech, stunned.

She had been wearing a simple yet pretty blue saree previously with her hair done up in a loose coil at the top of her head with little wisps of hair framing her face. While her up-do hadn't been altered, the saree certainly had. She was now in some dark burgundy creation of sheer chiffon with intricate gold beadwork that outlined her figure as it caught the light. But, that wasn't all. She had obviously been attempting to tie the back of it before he'd intruded and while she had now turned to face him, he could discern from the mirror behind her that it was practically backless, if not for the myriad of delicate strings that held the blouse together, half of them undone.

He hadn't realized he'd been gaping at her like an idiot, until she spoke, averting eye-contact, "Do you know where Vandy Bhabhi is?"

He struggled to find his voice and when it finally emerged, it was a lot rougher than he'd intended, "I was about to ask you the same question."

"She was with me before...she'd accidentally spilled her drink on my saree and gave me this to wear instead," she was fidgeting nervously with her hands, "Then she said she had to go to the washroom, but I thought she'd be back by now..."

"Probably still touching up her makeup," he chuckled, without thinking and she smiled as well. For a split-second, everything seemed back to normal...but then her expression fell and she looked away again.

"Are you coming?" he asked casually, leaning against the doorframe.

"My...um...saree...isn't tied up properly...at the back..." she mumbled, her hands moving reflexively to her back, "That's why I needed Vandy Bhabi...I can't reach all the strings..."

He looked back around the hall towards the bathroom - his sister-in-law remained out of sight and everyone else was in the living room - and he made a sudden decision. He entered the room fully and shut the door behind him. Suman gaped at him, looking a little nervous, "What are you doing?"

"Helping you," he said with an offhanded shrug, though his heart had started pounding. He walked towards her slowly, giving her ample time to protest, but it seemed as though he'd accomplished the impossible: he'd left her utterly bereft of speech. It reminded him of the time when he'd backed her up inside his closet against a cabinet. At the time, he'd done it on a whim, he wanted to tease her a little...yet it had ended up making him so explicitly aware of their proximity and surroundings that it had taken him a moment to sidetrack and walk away. He'd written it off as simple, base attraction; she was a pretty girl and he'd had her closely cornered inside his dressing room, so obviously there had been some momentary flare of magnetism. But, now he knew he'd been wrong. That magnetism had been present all along and now it was pulling him right back towards her. He didn't say anything until he was directly in front of her and then he murmured, "Turn around."

She blinked and then hesitantly turned her back to him. His mouth went dry as his gaze dropped, but he pulled himself together, being careful not to actually touch her as he caught two strings and deftly tied a knot. Working towards the top, he was becoming increasingly tense - how many strings could this blouse possibly have? - and the only sounds around them were of their own quick intakes of breath. The strings were so thin, so delicate, he could snap it with a mere tug between his thumb and forefinger, he thought. He accidentally grazed the centre of her spine with his knuckles when he heard her breath hitch. He glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and immediately wished he hadn't because she was looking at him with something that looked a hell of a lot like desire, with her eyes widened and her lips parted, and the next two strings he pulled on was with a tighter tug than necessary, bringing her closer to him. Now that he was holding her gaze in the mirror, he wasn't letting go of it, tying the last of the knots with enough gentle force to bring her back almost against his chest. He let go of the strings and then on a sudden impulse ran a light finger from the centre of her waist to the nape of her neck. She shivered and he left his hands at her shoulders, hating to shatter the moment, but knowing he had to say something, "Sumo, what's going on, really?"

She didn't break away like he expected her to, she turned around to face him, looking down, "I don't know."

"Yes, I think you do. We're constantly fighting with each other without pause, we can't seem to find any middle ground and I don't know what's wrong. We were fine before...before I'd asked you to meet me at the coffee shop...what went wrong?"

"Nothing...just, I guess we've been stressed out with the shaadi preparations and everything..." her expression was shuttered and he knew she was hiding something from him, although he could see some truth in her response.

"But, that's not all, is it?" he tilted her chin up with his finger, so that she'd meet his eyes, "That's not the only reason."

"I..." she looked for a moment, as though she desperately wanted to tell him the truth, before she faltered again, "It's the only reason I can give you."

"No. No, you're not getting away with that," he shook his head, "You once asked me to trust you and now I'm asking you the same thing. Please, trust me. Tell me the truth."

"I can't," she whispered, eyes full of pain and attempted to push past him with a hand at his chest, but he caught it, threading his fingers through hers and took a step forward until he had her backed up against the full-length mirror, pinning her hand over her head against the glass. His gaze caught the fading s of her mehendi and he ran his thumb over it.

"At least, tell me one thing. Whose name is this for? Tell me honestly." He had watched her react to him tying the strings of her blouse and she certainly hadn't been apathetic to his touch...he thought back to their dance, how hard and fast her heart had been beating, the way she had leaned into him...he knew he hadn't been mistaken then, he wasn't mistaken now.

She looked away, leaving her hand loose and limp in his grasp, "It doesn't matter."

"It damn well matters!" he growled, "Tell me the truth, Sumo, whose name?"

"Mine. My name. Didn't you hear me telling Aditya?" she shut her eyes tight and he knew she was lying.

"You lied to him and you're lying to me now, Sumo, why are you doing this? Do you enjoy seeing me in pain? You've avoided, ignored me for days, then when we do end up actually talking to each other, it's only to argue and press the blame in each other's direction. Every time I've tried helping you, I've been rebuffed, you refuse to listen to anything I say or suggest and it's killing me, Sumo!" Her eyes widened at the emotional tirade, yet he continued, letting go of all his frustration, "Are you so fixated on your "image", your sense of "self-respect" that you'll let your ego get the better of you, of the people who care about you, like you did ten years ago?"

"I am not the same Sumo," she said quietly, although he could tell her anger was barely being kept in check, "And I promise you that whatever I do now, I do it for my family."

"Your family? Yet, you refuse my help, you-"

"I won't take money from you, Shravan!" she shot back, "I won't take money from anyone. That doesn't mean I'm too proud to accept help from those who care about me, I will, because I trust them," in a softer tone, she said, "I trust you. And I understand that I haven't been forthcoming and I haven't been putting myself in your shoes. I do get where you've been coming from because you're only backing your family as well. And I'm sorry if I've somehow forgotten that at times, I'm just so used to my family being..." she fell silent and he knew what she'd been going to say, she was so used to her family being his too.

"Your family is important to me," he responded gently, "You're important to me too."

She looked wretched, "I know. I know. I'm sorry."

He couldn't help himself, he wrapped her up in a hug, drawing his arms tightly around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. He needed the emotional support as much as she did at the moment, he'd been as stressed as she in the past weeks. "Please. Please, just talk to me. Don't lie or hide."

"I don't want to," her voice was slightly muffed into his chest.

"Then don't...just tell me...whose name, Sumo?"

Silence. And then just when he'd despairingly given up - "Suman!" the high-pitched squeal from outside the door startled them both. Shravan hastily let go of Suman as Vandy entered the room, "Oh good, you're here too, Shravan, Mummyji was wondering where you went."

"I was looking for you, Bhabhi," he replied, slightly confused.

"Oh, I was in the washroom and then I went back to join everyone else. Suman, you look absolutely gorgeous!" his sister-in-law exclaimed, "This saree suits you even better than me, actually, you should keep it!"

"Thanks, Vandy Bhabhi, but-" the rest of Suman's words were cut off as the effervescent woman dragged her out of the room by her hands, "Come on, let's go join everyone else!"

He had so many questions for her, so much to say, so much to wonder, yet the one resounding voice throughout it all whispered in his head that maybe Suman wasn't completely at fault...maybe there was something else holding her back, not the ego he'd continuously accused her of harbouring...maybe she'd loved him all along...

He still hadn't got a straight answer from her, there were still too many unresolved issues to be discussed, but something in him felt almost...lighter somehow. In the moment, they had both let some of their walls down and she had, in a way, allowed him to empathize with some of her own pain, instead of dwelling upon his own. He understood that she didn't want his money, she wanted him, even if she hadn't blatantly phrased that on her own. She could accept his help if it meant they would work together, side-by-side, and wasn't that what being in love was all about? Mutual support? And yes, something was holding her back, but perhaps she had good reason. What was it she had said at the coffee shop? Whatever she had done, it had been for his own happiness, she'd never intended to hurt him.

Misunderstandings and misconceptions...they had been cutting at the cord that held them together, but perhaps they could overcome them as they had done before...maybe, if she couldn't tell him, he simply needed to find out the truth for himself.

And it felt, for a moment, that the bond that had held them together and then had been broken...could be tied back together again.