Here's the last update! Absolutely loved writing this short little story & I hope you enjoyed reading it too đ Kinda cheated on this update, some of you may recognize most of it is from my OS "Coming Home" - I really couldn't think of any other way to end it.
Chapter 5
"Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses." - Ann Landers
It was her cousin's sangeet function, but while all eyes were on him and his bride-to-be, Jeevika kept sneaking glances at Viren across the table. He was exceptionally handsome in his gold suit, with the red lapel. He caught her staring and he smiled. Hesitantly, because he still wasn't sure where they stood with one another. She bit her lower lip and looked away. Yet, she already knew she'd forgiven him.
And when he held out his hand to her in a silent dare, she took it.
Memories were revisited, explored, cherished. She remembered how they'd first met, their whirlwind engagement, their marriage and all the events that had followed it. She remembered falling in love for the first time. The only time.
She even remembered their fight, the anger and hurt...but it no longer stung so sharply, as though it was a healed wound. She danced with him, conveying all the emotions, all the memories of the past years in every touch and movement. And his eyes spoke volumes.
He held her as though no one was watching. As tightly as though he'd never let her go. At this point he didn't care and neither did she. Because they'd both been hiding their love for each other for too long...from each other. So, no one should doubt it now, least of all, themselves.
They shook on it, on their agreement, in complete partnership, as they sat together in the room. Because that was who they were. Partners in life, partners in love. Memories hit them, in shades of grey. Of their fights, their petty arguments and misunderstandings. Their obstinacy and their pride. And their mistakes.
She realized then that he was still holding her hand, she started to pull it away and rise from the bed, but he got up with her, holding her hand to his heart.
"I love you. When I'm happy, I love you. When I'm angry, I love you. When I'm with you, I love you. And when we're apart, I love you. And over time, our love has only strengthened. All this has only proved that misunderstandings can't keep us apart ultimately. Because I will always love you."
"I love you too, Virenji."
His heart soared, "Jeevika, can you forgive me?"
She smiled, holding his face between her hands, "I already have. I think I forgave you last night. I think that was when I completely understood that despite your anger, you still loved me. And I realized beyond how much you love me, you also respect me and my decisions. And I understood that you're only human. You're my husband and I love you, but you can still make mistakes. And I can only love you all the more for them."
He kissed her softly, sweetly, his fingers idly playing with the curls in her hair, before he felt her hands wrap around his neck. And that simple movement, that tender acquiescence on her part, was what made him bold. And he no longer cared that they were in her childhood home, that the walls were thin and interruptions were common because he surprised them both by pressing her to the wall from the force of his kisses, dropping the clip that held her hair to the floor and entangling his fingers in its silken feel.
She wasn't quite sure how she'd got there. At one moment, she had been kissing him gently in the middle of the room, the next she was against the wall and it was all unrestrained passion and ardency. And she hadn't been aware of the fact until he'd somehow managed to lift her off of her feet to bring her face level with his. Her hips slid against his in devastatingly slow motion, creating exquisite friction. His warm hands on her heated skin rose from her bare waist, upwards. And then she was back on her feet, but it seemed as though they were no longer acquainted with solid ground and her knees staggered, but he thought nothing of it; picking her up, still kissing her, until the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell, with her atop him.
She couldn't help it, she laughed. He paused, smiling against her lips, "Is kissing me somehow amusing?"
"No," she blushed, "I laughed because I never thought I'd be here now, with you, like this...and I'm happy." She was happy, giddily so. He kissed her again.
"I'm happy too, but I don't laugh when you kiss me," he broke away and raised his eyebrow at her teasingly.
"Well that's good because if you ever did, I would never kiss you again-oh!" He had pulled on her dupatta sharply and she'd felt the coolness of the air on her bare stomach, before it was swiftly replaced by the heat of his lips.
"Virenji!" she managed to gasp out.
"Hmm?" he kissed her hipbone and she nearly let him continue.
"Virenji," she pushed him gently off of her, "Anybody could walk in."
"It's the night!" he protested.
"And they can hear," she reminded him.
"Well...I won't be the one making noise," he pointed out with a teasing grin.
She hit his shoulder, blushing, "Virenji! This is my childhood home."
"I wasn't aware there was a law against being romantic in one's childhood home," he looked saddened, "I suppose that means that we can't continue this in Chandigargh..."
Jeevika buried her face in her hands.
"I'm only teasing," he told her, removing her hands and kissing her forehead, "Come, let's get ready for bed."
She couldn't help a small smile from peeking out.
She felt absolved. Cleansed. By him. All her pain washed away.
She didn't think she could feel any happier when Swamini had asked her to feed her. She'd forgiven her and she loved her still. And she was coming home.
Viren caught her hand in his, as they walked into their home. But, once they had approached their bedroom, he took a swift glance around before making sure no one was there, before scooping her up into his arms in one fluid motion.
"Virenji!" she said, surprised.
He only smiled, kicking the door open, "You left this home without me, now you've entered it with me."
"You didn't have to pick me up," she pointed out, as he carried her into their room.
"True," he lifted her up, so she could lock the door, before approaching the bed, "But, you see, this is how I should have carried you to our room, when we first got married."
"What has that got to do with now?"
He dropped her on the bed and she squealed, as he braced his arms beside her, so not to crush her. "Because I feel like marrying you again. And again. And again. And again."
"You can do that in our next lifetimes together," she teased.
"I will," he replied with confidence, "But, seeing Dabboo getting married made me want to get married again."
"To me, I hope."
He growled, tickling her ribs, "Who else?"
She gasped between laughter, "If I remember correctly, you left me on our wedding night for a case. Shouldn't you be leaving now?"
He smirked, "I'm fixing my mistakes, Mrs. Vadhera."
And he proceeded to make her utterly absolved of fear, guilt, pain, loss. With love.
And she was finally home.
~ The End ~
Shiv Shakti
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