Don't confess! (Sandhir fanfic)Index: Pg1 *Last part updated-pg 41* - Page 26

Aarav stared at Randhir without a blink. His pair of eyes monitored him with great scrutiny. Every action- from his hands going down, fingers curling around the handle of the tea-cup, cup being brought to his slip, the sip he took, his Adam's apple bobbing with the drink to the cup being brought back to its initial position. Aarav's eyes widened as he saw his father loosen his tie with great suave and fix his hair by running his fingers through them. That is what a father looks like.' Aarav raised his left hand to his head in order to imitate Randhir. He touched his hair but instantly dropped his hands back down and looked into his food plate when he sensed Randhir turning his head towards him.

Randhir looked away instantly. He picked his cup up and brought it to his lips. He drank silently, narrowing his eyes and glancing at the little boy who just changed his entire life, fiddle with his spoon.

'Don't make an eye contact. DON'T DARE LOOK INTO THOSE EYES.' He tried to concentrate on Sanyukta's argument over foreign policy.

Yes. This is what the father-son duo has been doing for the last 15 minutes. Trying to avoid any such situation where they'll have to make an eye contact and speak to each other. One was embarrassed and the other was scared. One felt awkward and the other knew he wouldn't be able explain why.

"Mamma, I'm done", Aarav climbed off his chair and ran away to his room.

Sanyukta, who has been sitting and trying to get Randhir speak about why direct investment would not help Randhir much to start a company here in India, finally stood up and sighed. "No wonder he is your kid."

Randhir narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in a mocking way. Sanyukta stormed off.

Randhir thought to himself, what should he do? His well organized life fell apart like a pack of cards in the last 1 hour. What had he in mind, and what had become of his.

But before anything, he had to contemplate for his deed, at least to his son. Randhir never in his wildest dreams thought of having a baby and bringing him up. The thought never came to him, maybe because she wasn't with him all this time. Now that he has learnt that he has an entire 6 year old little boy of his own, he did not know what to do. A part of him was already singing and dancing about it. And the other part was suffering from post trauma disorder.

He mustered courage. 'Here it goes.' He walked to Aarav's room.

"165 mph", he said. His voice shook, but he tried to maintain the authoritative tone. To hell with the authoritative tone, he was nervous about speaking to his own son. What kind of a father does that? I'll tell you what kind- the kind of fathers who have spent 6 years oblivion to the fact of having a family in bits and pieces somewhere.

Aarav, who was scribbling on the pages of his notebook turned around and looked at him questioningly.

"Top track speed of the car, you were saying? It is not 159.7 mph. Its 165", Randhir couldn't come up with a better line to strike a conversation. He knew its 159.7 mph. Of course he knew. But, he'd like to do some silly little thing that'd make his son happy. Or so as he thought it would.

"No!" Aarav argued. "Its 159.7 mph. Sure"

"Na-ah", Randhir played along.

"What if I'm right?" Aarav crossed his arms and pouted. Like father, like son.

"I promise I'll take you for a long drive on it", he sat on his knees to level with him.

Aarav's face lit up and eyes twinkled. He gave a toothy smile and ran off. His happy face made Randhir feel like the happiest person on earth. His eyes followed him out of the room.

After a while, Aarav came back running with his mother's iPad. "Seee", he passed it on to Randhir.

Aarav eagerly stared at Randhir's face, trying to decipher out his reaction. Randhir laughed, without even looking at the screen and said, "Okay! So, how good is your mother with granting permissions?"

Aarav twitched his lips and shrugged.

Randhir sighed. He had already promised him he'd take him on a drive. Now it is time to tackle the guard. Randhir walked to the kitchen where Sanyukta was busy washing plates.

"Umm. Wo, I have to take Aarav out for a ride" he sheepishly let out.

Sanyukta pretended not to hear. Come on already, after all there are certain perks of belonging to the woman-kind. At times, even, the always so understanding and considerate ones take time to open their doors; let off their guards.

"I promised him, Sanyukta", he said on realizing.

Sanyukta stopped working. "Since when did you start being so promising, Randhir?" she said without looking back. She waited few seconds for an instant reply from him, which she thought is so likely of Randhir. But, on receiving none, she went back to washing plates.

Randhir thought for a moment and tried again. "So, umm. Can I take him out for a ride?" he asked, hoping for her consent.

"He is your son. You don't need to take permission" Sanyukta smiled.

She secretly gave him the key. Randhir knew her doors were shut from inside for him. He knew it'd take her time to open up and it won't be easy for him to make his way again. But unknowingly, the key was traded for a smidgen of trust.

Throughout the ride, Aarav stared fascinated at the speedometer and then gazed his father who drove the car with full suave. He simply marveled at how non-chalantly his father drove. The smoothly hit breaks which caused no jerks at all and the clean cut turnings at four-point crossings. Randhir would try and explain in the easiest and simplest way how the engines worked. Aarav would listen with full concentration. Not that he understood everything. But he'd try his best to decipher out whatever possible.

He'd then look outside, the wind in his hair and chocolate ice cream in his hand made him feel like he was at the top of the world. His little world couldn't have been happier. Now, he could go back to school and tell his friends he had a father. A real father, who took him on a drive on his Porsche and did all that a father would do.

On their way back home, they halted at a park.

"Papa", Aarav had to muster a lot of strength to say that.

Randhir shook. His son just called him Papa'. Is there anything to be scared of? "Han?"

"Aap chaley jaoge?" he asked, innocently.

Randhir chose to keep silent. What would a six year old know of foreign investment and its pros and cons?

"Tumhari mummy bohot dangerous hain", he said.

"Haw. Aap kaise jaante ho?" Aarav laughed.

"Woh mujhey thodi rehne degi yahan?" he asked, playfully.

Aarav pouted and kicked a stone.

On the ride home, the little boy fell asleep, enjoying the cool breeze that ruffled his hair. His eye-lids would flutter sporadically, catching Randhir's attention.

Randhir loosened up a bit on seeing his son fall asleep. He leaned back from his conscientious posture and sank in his seat, resting one of his hands on the window frame running his fingers through his hair and, the other hand sturdily handling the steering wheel. He turned the knob of the radio and started humming the song it played.

"Musafir hun yaaron,

Naa ghar hain, naa thikaana.

Humein chalte jaana hain,

Bas chalet jaana..."

He parked his car on reaching her building and looked at his son who slept peacefully in the passenger's seat. He even thought of waking him up, but soon changed his mind. He got off and opened the door, cradled him out of his seat and locked his car, before taking to the stairs.

The door bell rang.

She walked up and opened the door. Their eyes met and remained still, the tick-tock of the clock created a monotonous background score for them.

He broke it. Like all the other times.

"Umm..he fell asleep."

Sanyukta was still somewhere in his eyes, trying to find a way out. His voice startled her.

"Han? Oh. Yes" she took her son from him and placed him on the couch.

Randhir stared at her, as she took steps towards the door.

She could ask him to leave. And he would. Without any ado, he would.

"Come in, I was just brewing some tea"

She wasn't. She was just waiting for him to return, standing at the balcony. Thinking, he would just send Aarav upstairs and take a turn on his Porsche and leave. She wouldn't stop him. There wasn't any more of her left for him to hurt.

He stepped in at once. Not because she invited him for tea. But, because, he could see that she too was as desperate as him to not let go so fast. Well, of course he knew that tea-brewing was an excuse.

~~0~~

"So, your flight is at 9 am tomorrow", she enquired.

"Hm", he nodded.

"So..you're staying at-",

"Dad's old apartment", he completed her unasked question.

There prevailed silence for a while.

"When are you returning back from Carolina?" she asked, hopefully.

"We're starting the shifting process by the end of next month" he sipped his tea.

And then, again, silence. Sanyukta got up from her seat and walked to the basin.

"Stay here, tonight" she said, finally. "I hate sleeping alone, Randhir! It scares me. Ever since the attack at our college...I still can't..." her head dropped into her hands, as she figured she was breaking down again.

Randhir shot up from his seat and embraced her.

"Its been 8 years since the incident", she spoke, haltingly. "8 years. But I'm not over it" she looked up, stepping out his embrace. Lifting her sleeve a bit, she exposed the faint mark on her hand from the bullet shot. "NOT because of this mark on my hand. This cut has healed."

She pulled the sleeve back. "Here," she pointed at her chest. "Here's where the cut is still raw. Here's where it is SO sore, that at times I feel I hadn't had to breathe. Because it hurts everytime. EVERYTIME I recollect memories from that night. I just can't...what you said...WHY Randhir?"

Randhir was bowled over.

"Why did you have to say it and disappear? Why did you have to make me pretend? Why, for heaven's sake, did you have to pretend? Run away? Weren't you man enough to say it again, when I would've been in my senses? So that, I didn't have to pretend to not hear anything at all!" she broke unto a distorted sad laugh with the last line.

Randhir's expression took from shocked to poignant. His life felt to be a lie. A bitter lie. Suddenly, this 8 years of time spent in making it big in life came to him as a shaggy dog story. Hollow and pointless; futile and inconsequential.

Concealed was this confession in both their hearts, waiting to be confided at the right time. And at that moment, time seemed to be at its height of righteousness.

Randhir didn't even attempt to think of something to say. His silence bothered her too much, that she broke into crying again.

"I'm here now", he spoke, finally. "And I'm here to stay! We-we'll have a home together! We'll-we'll raise Aarav together, Sanyukta! I promise."

Randhir blurted out, without thinking of how his bubble self-esteem would burst if a pin pricked it-or in this case if she refused to be with him again. He just said it, for the first time in his life, without thinking about consequences.

She looked at him.

And they kissed, yet again proving the famous phrase actions speak louder than words' apt.

They carried the kiss to her bedroom as the heat of the moment took over their selves.

8 years.

They desired each other, yearned for each other. They became each other's craving.

And they loved each other. From their crux, they did.

And so they made, beneath the moonlit sky shrouded with stars.

Her wounds healed. Of the marks Sameer had left on her, of the pain and hurt she had been subjected to. All of it cured.

His presence was enough for her.

~~0~~

"Randhir, you're getting late", she struggled herself out of his strong grip around her waist.

"I don't need to learn time management from you", he smirked while nibbling at her neck.

"Aarav aa jayega", she dragged herself out, grasping for breath. "You'll miss your flight!"

"No I won't", he pulled her back. "Aarav chhota hain, Sanyukta", he attacked her neck again. "Aur use bhi toh pata chale? He isn't the only one you-"

"HAW!"

Both of them snapped back from their posture at once on hearing Aarav haw' at them.

"Shaadi se pehle ye sab! Very bad", he crossed his arms.

Mischievously, he spoke. "Mom! Mujhey kya aapko manners sikhaane parenge?" these lines, he possibly picked up from his mother while she'd scream at him. "Main aapka beta hun yaa aap meri beti?"

Randhir fumbled. Sanyukta looked here and there for some time, but soon realized SHE is the parent her.

"Aarav! School kaun jayga? Aur ye kya hooliya banake rakkha hain? Jao jaake taiyar ho jao!" she screamed, faking anger.

"Main late ho raha hun. I don't want to miss my flight", Randhir fixed his hair.

Aarav ran to him at once, ignoring Sanyukta's order.

She adoringly stared at the father-son duo conversing on what gift Randhir would have to get for Aarav and how fast he has to return back and what would happen if he gets late.

Randhir pecked a kiss on his cheeks and got up to leave.

"Chhotu, main nikalta hun", he tossled Aarav's hair. "Jab tak main wapas naa aaoon, mummy ko ache se pareshan karna."

Aarav chuckled while Sanyukta raised a brow and nodded in disbelief, tilting her head.

Before opened the door but before stepping out, he pulled Sanyukta for a quick kiss to which Aarav gave a narrow eyed look.

"Sharam bhi nahi aati. Saamne ek bachha khara hain."

Randhir laughed at his son's words. Well, he soon figured this behavior of Aarav was nothing but the something every kid has- attention seeking syndrome.

"See? How it irks him when he doesn't get attention?" he spoke to Sanyukta. "Reminds me of how you used to be in our college days. Genes!"

"What!? Randhir, its high time you leave now", she pushed him out through thedoor and laughed. "God! Itne saalon se khush-haal zindagi jee rahi thi main", she said.

"Bye papa!" Aarav waved his hand and flashed a toothy smile, hugging his mother's waist.

He left.

And she waited.

Just as how she had waited when he left for the first time?

No.

Not that way.

6 months seemed like eternity, but this time she wouldn't mind waiting. Even if it were for eternity.

This time, there is a certainty.

There is hope.

There is confidence interlaced with reliance.

This time, she wouldn't mind waiting.

Evermore, Rini.

Friends and folks,

Wrapping up,

Don't Confess!