Hey guys! Thank you so very much for reading and for leaving feedback/pressing like. I appreciate it a LOT. <3
Because the last episode was this week, I also just wanted to give a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to the show GHSP itself. I've never been as attached to a show as I have to this one, and there are no words to describe how much I've enjoyed it. The cast, crew, writers, producers, every single person involved -- they were beyond amazing and I commend each and every one of them for their hard work. Like for so many on the Board, the show was a huge inspiration for me. Thank you, GHSP, for providing such incredible entertainment. It wasn't just entertainment, really, it was magic. <3
Previous Chapters -- Part One: prologue + ch 1 / ch 2 + 3 / ch 4 + 5 / ch 6 + 7 / ch 8 + 9 /
ch 10 + 11 /
ch 12 + 13 /
ch 14 + 15 / Part Two: ch 16 /
ch 17 /
ch 18 /
ch 19 /
ch 20 /
ch 21 /
ch 22 /
ch 23 /
ch 24 Chapter Twenty-Five The proximity to Maan overwhelming her, Geet attempted to remain calm. The sensation of his long fingers curled around her upper arm nearly brought her to her knees.
At last, Maan led Geet to the end of the dinner line; they were among the very last stragglers. Riya was sitting on a nearby log, her paper plate balanced on her thighs as she chatted with her classmates.
As Maan grabbed a plate, he reflected on how Riya had become more social and lively since Geet had entered their lives. He sneaked a glance at Geet, appreciative of whatever magic she had worked in such a short span of time. Perhaps it wasn't even magic -- maybe it was just Geet being who she was.
Involuntarily, Maan's mind flashed to the earlier encounter with Sameera in the cabin. Although he had nearly been seduced by her, he had felt no attraction to her at that time. Had he been almost drawn to her because he simply missed a woman's companionship and touch, despite his steadfast coldness toward the opposite gender? No, that couldn't be it.
Or could it?
Maan sighed. *Just get the food, Khurana,* he directed himself.
Geet watched the father of her child place a sandwich, a generous helping of fruit salad, and two pastries on a plate. She could still feel his hand pressed against her arm, which left her with an unexpected bubbly feeling in the pit of her stomach.
*What is wrong with you, Geet?* she asked herself, reaching at last for a plate and utensils.
"Geet, what are you doing?" questioned Maan. "I already fixed your dinner." He held out the plate that he had filled, and indicated with his chin that Geet should accept it.
"That isn't for you?" asked Geet.
"I'm not hungry," said Maan, grabbing two water bottles from an ice chest. The day had left him in a state of bemusement and without appetite. "Let's sit."
Geet followed him toward the campfire, touched by his thoughtfulness. She then tightened her fingers around the plate as reality crashed down on her. The professor was simply playing his part as her pretend husband. How silly of her to think otherwise.
---
Making his way through the raucous group of children and adults, Maan led Geet to a vacant log. They sat, the fire burning brightly before them, keeping Riya in their peripheral vision as she continued to chatter away with other students.
"Thank you, Geet," said Maan, unscrewing the top of his water bottle. "For going along with this -- with this arrangement." He couldn't bring himself to say "charade."
Geet raised her plate to Maan. "Please eat something."
Maan shook his head, taken aback that she had blatantly ignored his thanks. Geet lifted the plate higher. "Please? You haven't eaten for several hours now."
"I just want to make sure you know that I am thankful for what you're doing," said Maan, dutifully taking a chunk of cantaloupe.
Geet tore off a portion of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "It's all right, Professor," she said. "I'm sorry that you had such a bitter experience with that woman." She couldn't bring herself to say "Sameera."
Although Maan shook his head in an effort to be indifferent, Geet could see his shoulders tense.
"I thought I had left her in the past," said Maan. There was that faraway, removed quality in his voice again. As if Geet weren't sharing the same log with him, as if she were a universe away. "She had left me feeling like -- feeling . . . ." Maan stopped as the chattering and munching around them swelled to a crescendo.
"Broken?" Geet murmured.
Maan met her eyes as the fire sputtered. He gave an imperceptible nod -- or maybe Geet just imagined it.
"I've been broken, too, Professor," Geet confessed in a whisper. "You aren't alone . . . ."
Maan scooted slightly closer to her, certain he had misunderstood. "What did you say?"
"I never told you why I became a surrogate," said Geet. Something inside of her was desperate to lessen his isolation on his island of gloom, even if it meant joining him there herself.
Maan leaned forward. Was she actually going to reveal this right here, right now?
"My parents passed away in a car accident when I was a year old," began Geet. Despite their physical closeness, her voice was so low that Maan strained to hear. "I don't remember them at all. I was raised by my uncle, my father's brother."
Somehow, Maan managed to keep his mouth from dropping open. Geet had been an orphan?
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Geet," murmured Maan. "Was your uncle . . . was he good to you?" For some reason, the answer to this question was very important.
To stall, Geet jammed a handful of cherries in her mouth. "My uncle was a very controlling, abusive man," she said, after swallowing. "His wife, my aunt, divorced him when I was about five, and disappeared from our lives. She took their son, my cousin, with her. I have very fuzzy memories of them."
Her eyes darkening, Geet continued. "My uncle had two vices. Well, two main vices. Alcohol and betting. Because of his gambling habit, he incurred an astronomical amount of debt over the years. The debt kept growing. And he kept drinking." She shivered, memories of her uncle's drunken rages sweeping through her mind.
Maan tried to imagine a younger version of Geet under the care of such a decadent relative. The sight was so appalling that he quickly shook the vision away.
"One day," said Geet, "a man came to our door and said that the house and all of our possessions would be taken away if we didn't pay back all of my uncle's debts, and fast."
*No, no, no,* Maan chanted in his head. Although the conclusion to Geet's tale was obvious, he still hoped for a twist.
"A loan was out of the question because my uncle's credit was ruined," said Geet, shivering again. "And no one would lend me such a huge sum, either; there was no collateral to offer." In the background, she faintly heard Mrs. Smith announcing that students should gather together for a sing-a-long.
"By chance, my uncle overheard a woman at a shop talking to her friend about Dr. Mehta's surrogacy clinic. When my uncle learned that the recipient would pay the potential mother a ton of money, he told me to sign up." Geet lifted her eyes, now watery, to Maan's. "Then fate took care of the rest."
Maan sucked in his breath. "Wait. Your *uncle* made you become a surrogate?" He was amazed at the life this woman -- one who often looked as delicate and childlike as his six-year-old -- had led up to this point.
Geet blinked. "I -- I suppose he did. Well, I signed the contract on my own, and willingly . . . . Although, I felt like I had no choice at the time. I wanted to help. He had raised me; I couldn't just let him be stripped of everything."
Maan shook his head, attempting to swallow the fact that the antics of Geet's depraved uncle had been the driving force behind his child's arrival into the world.
"I didn't expect to become so attached to the baby," said Geet. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks, dripping into her limping fruit salad. "I had never known the love of a mother, or any guardian for that matter, so . . . I wasn't prepared for the aftermath." The heart-shattering, never-ending days of anguish.
"What happened afterward?" asked Maan. He suddenly noticed that his own hands were on Geet's cheeks, wiping away her tears.
With Maan's fingers gliding against her face, Geet found it hard to remember. "My uncle kicked me out," Geet replied finally. "He said that he couldn't believe what I had done, and that he couldn't handle me living there anymore."
"What?" said Maan, incredulous. "But it was his idea in the first place. And without you, he would've lost everything."
"He didn't see it that way, I suppose," said Geet simply. "I eventually started working at the library and moved into my own place."
"How could he have used you that way?" Maan demanded, his blood starting to boil.
Geet attempted a shrug, more tears filling her eyes. "He was always an unstable man, Professor. He drank very heavily, and his wife and son had left him, after all. Deep down, I'm sure he was a good person."
An owl hooted in the distance as Maan marveled at Geet's courage and how she sought to see the best in people, even those who had wronged her.
"But still," Maan protested. "You shouldn't have been treated that way." He gazed at the tear-stained face of the woman who had given birth to his daughter, who had suffered a far more scarring past than he had. Maan bit down on his tongue to stop from asking where her uncle currently lived, so that he could . . . well, Maan didn't want to think about that at the moment.
"It's really all right, Professor," said Geet, a lock of hair falling loosely by her face. Their eyes locked together, and she felt a new trail of goosebumps rise on her arms.
"Not 'Professor,' Geet," Maan whispered. Instinctively, he tucked the stray strand behind her ear. "Just 'Maan.'"
Geet's mouth opened slightly in surprise, her lips still rosy from the tint of cherries. An invisible current sizzled between them as the campfire continued to blaze.
The crackling flames of the fire snapping in his ears, Maan felt a coil of unbridled attraction wind itself around his heart.
As Geet noticed his stare, her stomach flipped. Was he going to -- ?
"Professor Khurana!" cried a harsh, female voice.
Maan and Geet were immediately jolted apart. Maan glanced up to see Mrs. Smith, whose forehead was creased with worry.
"Uh -- uh, yes?" Maan stammered.
"We cannot find Riya!" exclaimed the teacher, placing her hands on her hips.
The two rose instantly, Geet's plate toppling out of her lap and onto the soft earth below. "What? What do you mean?" Maan demanded.
"Riya is gone. Dr. Fernandes and I were gathering the children together for the sing-a-long, but Riya is nowhere to be seen! Thomas D'Souza, one of her classmates, is also missing."
Icy fingers of terror gripped Geet's heart. "But we just saw her! She was sitting on a log, eating dinner!" She spun around, frantically scanning the students.
Mrs. Smith shook her head. "She's not around the campfire or in the tents."
In horror, Maan and Geet turned to stare at each other. In Maan's eyes, Geet could see the same question that she was demanding of herself: How could she not have kept an eye on their own daughter?
"She might have gone to our cabin," said Maan, already racing out of the campfire area with Geet at his side.
Within moments, the two reached Cabin 4D. As Maan flung the door open and stepped inside, he heard a piece of paper crinkling beneath his shoe. Furrowing his brow, he bent down to pick up the document. It was a letter scrawled in the handwriting of a child.
"What does it say?" asked Geet, wringing her hands. "Is it from Riya?"
Maan squinted as he attempted to read the childish scribble. "'Dear Future Mama and Daddy, this is your future son-in-law Mr. Thomas D'Souza,'" he said slowly, mentally correcting mispellings as he read aloud. Maan grimaced at the name of the ever-piercing thorn in his side. "'Riya is making me put her in the woods to hide. I will put her in a secret spot there and then come back to the camp. When I come back, I can only go back to the forest and get her if you tell me that you promise to become finances. She said she won't come back until I get your promise.'"
"What?" Geet shrieked. "Our baby is out in the *woods*? At *night*?"
At Geet's tone, Maan nearly dropped the letter; her voice had almost never risen above softly-spoken.
Maan tried to think clearly over the panic screaming in his head. "Finances?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even. "Finances . . . ."
Suddenly, it hit them. "Fiances," the two said in unison. Geet's heart sank. So, their daughter had gone to *this* extent to unite them.
The two peered outside the open cabin door. The campground no longer appeared to be a quaint retreat. Riya was out there somewhere, with only another child to protect her in the dark, looming forest surrounding the site.
---
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