ArHi FF: A Dark Love Story...UPD P.127+LINK P.136 - Page 66

I was lying on the bed, I could not sleep. This my reticence to sleep was not a novelty ... the wedding day, the day on which I and the bas***d sealed the sacred vow, covered by a shabby lie, nightmares haunted me at night. My whole life passed before me like a flashback, and I saw again the best periods of my life be guilty of a terrible burden. Yes, because I felt guilty. I was sold, I had lost, I had been sucked into a reality that had nothing to do with me.
I was off, every day my eyes were becoming more vacuous, dull, the shadow of what I had once been.
And he knew it. He was aware of my failures, my fears, the pain that corroded the soul. I rolled over in bed, restless, trying to ignore the presence of the man lying next to me, between my blankets, sharing intimacy to which I was obliged to yield.
I knew he was not asleep, I felt his breath fast, irregular, which seemed to contaminate the air around us.
Our relationship had not improved: he ignored me, always shut himself in his office or passing whole nights away from home. And I ... I was forced to play the role of dutiful wife, but no one knew that I was dying inside.
We do not ever spent much time together, and I was fine. But the night ... the night I thought about everything that was my life before I met Arnav. I had always been a happy child, nice, surrounded by the people I loved most, and jealously kept the memories of my carefree childhood. Then, suddenly, my mother died. She died when I was twelve years old. She died in a car accident, by a truck carrying furniture.
One thing almost trivial, but no one has ever imagined the pain that still, after so many years away, I carry inside. My mother was a woman always active, sprightly exuberance until exhausted, moody, sometimes paranoid. I love her a lot, I still remember today her eyes lit up with joy when she looked at me. She was also very similar to my ideals, she participated in many events, and she was an active member of many associations, political or environmental.
I sighed, thinking of how much I was missing the warmth of her embrace, and a tear escaped me, silent. To which followed another, and another still. I knew that I should not cry, I knew that I was strong, but the thought of my past, and instead of what I was now, let me try again the strange chest pain.
- Khushi? ' Arnav's voice seemed muffled, tears, as usual, has dragged into a world of its own, from which it was difficult to re-emerge.
I did not answer, just continued to cry silently, hoping that he would leave me in peace.
- Khushi-Now his voice was closer, much closer. I felt his hand move away the hair from my face. - What's up? ' he whispered.
I shook my head, sniffling.
Here's another reason why I did not want to spend my time with him, he realized there was always something wrong ... I was like an open book to him.
And you know, never show your weaknesses to the enemy.
Suddenly I turned in his direction, bumping my head on his chest.
He hugged me in waist, and I felt even worse because all this kindness, why all this trouble, if we both knew that he hated me?
Because now I was sure of one thing: he hated me. He had shown me in the past two months, he had done everything to destroy my life.
And a question arose spontaneously from my mind, why he hated me so intensely? What have I done? It was not possible that it was only because of the case DiSouza, or the difference of ideals ... if it were only that, he would kill me and nothing else. But no, he had to do worse: he had to rip from my world and tie me to what most abhorred, without leaving me no way out, no hope for the future ...
- Why do you hate me? - I sobbed on his chest, unable to help myself.
To that question there was a long, exhausting minute of silence, in which I heard his breathing become more irregular. Suddenly his grip on my waist grew, and he pulled me closer to him, getting my chin with one hand and by chaining our eyes.
- Why do you think I hate you? - His voice was gentle, but I could see a hint of sweet forcing the tone, as if it was difficult to say those words.
I sobbed harder, and tried to look down, but he would not let me.
- Well-I whispered ' you have tried in every way to make me mad, and I start to think that you'll succeed in your purpose ... why are you doing this? -
- I do not want you to go crazy-he said, surprised
- So why? - I snapped, anger began to flare up - I ... I cannot do it, Arnav. I cannot live like this! Loneliness is driving me crazy, I want to go home, I want my life! - His eyes were cold, but I don't gave up.
- Let me go-I prayed again.
- I cannot-he sighed, then let me go, so abruptly that I almost scared. He got up, sitting on the bed. He put his head in his hands, he looked troubled.
- Ask me anything you want, Khushi, anything else ... but not this. I cannot let you go! - He snapped.
I got up too, going up close to him. Our faces were very close, our noses almost touching. I crossed his eyes, looked in agony.
Why so much suffering?
- But I do not want anything, Arnav - I whispered an inch from his lips - I do not want your money, or jewelry ... I just want to be free ... -
He lifted his face and touched my cheek, his eyes were bright - I cannot-he repeated.
He suffered, it was evident, but in his eyes there was a spark of determination that made me realize that he would not let me, he could not be more clear.
No more free.
And that was the thought that made me ride my anger, tears returned to my face. He became aware of this, because he came close while I was still, petrified, too upset to be able to move. With his lips, he gently picked up the little drops of pearl on my cheeks, and his hand took mine, the left, where the ring stood on the whiteness of my skin, and clasped it. The minutes dragged by, I was too busy to digest his words to be able to oppose to that contact. A simple gesture, full of sweetness, ephemeral, unstable.
Because he did not love me, he did not care about my well. He just wanted to destroy me, he wanted to fool me, he wanted to make me like him, and then leave me, after having soiled with his wickedness.
And suddenly I turned away.
- Do not touch me-I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
He sighed again, but this time his eyes were different, darker and more angry.
He reacted always so when I refused.
Closing in a halo of hatred around him for years, moving away more and more.
He took me by the wrist, and his eyes were sending lightning bolts.

- You know what, Khushi? - he snapped nervous - I'm sick! Fed up! I stand your reticence, stand your insults, support your hate. And I do not do anything, because I do not want to hurt you, because there is still something human in me. But you're destroying it-he shouted, standing up and pulling on his pants quickly - and I'm tired. Do you know why do not I let you go? - His eyes were hard, dazzling - Because I know that you'll be my ruin, Khushi. I know, but in the same way I cannot help but desire you-he said and he left, leaving me alone and puzzled by his strange speech.

If he was tired, why do not let me go? Why was determined to keep me in this hell, tearing my soul day after day? It would have been much easier for both us?
Lost in these thoughts I slumped on the bed, sustaining the head with one arm and thinking about what Arnav has said.
I had to struggle to prevent more tears to come out, but this time I could not, in the knowledge that soon, one way or another, he would pay for his sins.

Her face shone the light that radiated seemed burn my soul. A fleeting sweetness, but necessary. I drowned in her brown eyes, bright as the sun, shining with joy. Her black hair, soft and silky. She was wonderful, a dazzling beauty. That's why my eyes, usually dark and lonely, shone when they rested on her. Graceful as a butterfly, as delicate as a rose. I could not take my eyes off from her face.
She was fragile. Our hands were intertwined in a silent promise of warmth and comfort. I could not hurt her. The want to protect it was an instinct stronger than me. All of her had enchanted me. Lovely as a Venus just blossomed, she had the power to destroy the heart, to make it her own, to give me warmth so much longed for.
It was my life at that time. I wanted to meld into her, make her mine for life, imprison her in a gilded cage, to guard my heart. I was fragile in her presence. Desperately fragile, I let myself become intoxicated by her aura, her kindness, her gentleness, from everything that I can never have.
- Arnav ... -
Suddenly I blinked my eyes, and the dream which I had been the victim vanished like snow in the sun. I looked at the woman and a thousand shards of ice pierced my chest.
It was not her, it was Khushi.
A dream, an illusion, that was it. Illusion caused by the alcohol.
Because clash with two big blue eyes, seeing the hand that I was holding, caused me unbearable pain, I gasped.
It wasn't Khushi.
She hated me, the warmth that I had just felt was false, a mere trick of my mind. My wife. The woman who so tenaciously continued to reject me, she was not here with me.
I walked away from Melinda and took my head in my hands. What the hell happened to me? I should not think of her, I should not torment me in this way. Inevitably, I thought of the discussion I had a few hours before, in our room, a witness to many other fights. I saw her eyes full of tears, begging me to let her go.
I saw her muffled sobs, our hugs, I could almost hear her voice, so sweet, as a child, begging me to rescue her.
I clutched my head in hands. No, I could not. She was mine, before the eyes of God and in my soul. I could not. We were tied up, and I could not part with her. The very thought caused me excruciating pain and anger.
I was confused, I did not know what was happening to me. Since she entered in my life, she had turned upside down everything I believed. My way of thinking, my whole life had been corrupted by the foolish and capricious girl, who did nothing but provoke me, trying to get away from me.
She, who was like a magnet for me.
The more I walked away and greater was my desire to be with her. And I was afraid.
A sarcastic smile came from my lips, before I could control it. The woman next me looked at me, confused.
I, Arnav Singh Raizada, I was afraid of a silly little girl, much younger than me, who did not yet know what happen in the world.
A thought very absurd, but my conscience - and I was surprised to have one more, were years that I had no feeling ... - told me that yes, it was possible that I, Arnav Singh Raizada, I was afraid.
Afraid of what, then? That my humanity, dormant for years, had suddenly re-emerged, because of that stupid girl?
Or that my obsession for her body could turn into something more?
I felt, every day, that the hatred I felt toward her subsided, to make room for a strange sense of emptiness in the stomach.
But then, at the sight of her tenacity, her combativeness, her unbridled desire of wanting to resist, hatred and resentment resurface, as powerful as a storm at sea, putting me into a black hole from which I struggled more and more to emerge.
And I was destroying myself with my irrational hatred. The tears, cries, anger, disgust towards me ... I could not bear this.
Yet, in the same way, I could not do without her, as if, suddenly, without asking my permission, she had become my air, my sun, my heaven ...
I was afraid of choking, without her ...
I shook my head, it was not to me ramble on like that ... the little hands of Melinda crept on my chest, and then up to my neck. I felt his lips on my neck, a sign that she was trying to seduce me. I pulled back abruptly and she looked at me, mortified.
- Did I do something ... -
- You did not do anything-I interrupted, sharp – Simply you bored me ... - her expression changed, and anger crept into those blue eyes, so different from those of my wife.
-I did not want, Sir-she muttered sarcastically the last word.