?Chapter Four
New Years Eve
Angad tossed the pizza into the oven. It had been too long since he had cooked himself a greasy cheese pizza to go with some nice wine, right from the bottle. He was going to indulge himself and drink senseless.
She hadn't come back. He wanted to hate her because he had never thought she wouldn't. Obviously, he had underestimated. There had been pictures, online, in papers, magazines, T.V. of her in Greece, sun bathing on a beach in an excuse for a bikini. Her parents had even called, but she, the stubborn idiot, hadn't.
Well, I'm no less stubborn he reminded himself.
He wanted her to come back. He wanted her here to welcome the new year with him. He set the bottle of wine on the counter and leaned over to rest his head on the fridge. He'd let her go. If he really wanted, he could have just went and spent Christmas with her family, said he was sorry. And, he knew she would have forgiven him.
Five days without her had been like hell. The house felt empty without her screaming in it. It seemed too tidy when he didn't find her shoes in one place, her notes and appointments scribbled on small papers everywhere. He liked to hear her sing with him, even if she had the ugliest voice ever, while he composed. Her fiddling on the piano. Her screaming at him.
The ting of the oven had his starling. He took the pizza out and set it to cool. When he bell rung he growled and angry as a wolf went to go see who it was.
He opened the door and stared at Kripa. She'd cut her hair. It was the first thing that came to mind. It was just a few inches under her shoulders now. He wanted to tell her how lovely it look. She liked it when he noticed small things like that. Her skin looked like gold dust from the hours she might have spent on the beach.
"Kripa?" He wanted to reach out and touch just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
"Can I come in?" She glanced at his hand and found him wearing the ring she'd left behind. When he stepped aside she stepped inside. "Thanks. I'm sorry I came back unexpected." I couldn't like without you, she wanted to say. I wanted to welcome the New Year with you.
"It's fine." He walked into the kitchen and brought out the food and wine. It surprised him that she hadn't followed. "Just fine." He said. "You can damn well walk in and out when you please. The house is yours as much it is mine till we're married. So did you indulge yourself in a hot, torrid affair in Greece? You always are, it seems like."
"I don't want to fight with you, Angad. And if you really want, I'm ready to give up this marriage." Oh, and she'd been thinking of children and grandchildren. "I'll just get my stuff."
"You know what!" He followed her this time. "I'm sick and tired of having to deal with your insolent moods. I've had it." He took the cloths and threw them on the floor. "You're not going anywhere."
"Let go of me, Angad. Please. We've hurt each other enough. I can't bear it again and I can't hurt you again." She noticed the fire that was burning in the room. She could hear a composition on the piano by him playing down stairs.
"Fine!" He pushed her away and dragged his hand through his hair. He still hadn't cut it. "Just dandy."
"Yup. Just dandy."
She wasn't sure who moved first. But, they were both at it with each other. She found herself caught in his arms, his mouth hot on hers. It was crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy! She nearly went crazy with his mouth was full on hers with just the hint of tongue. It was more tormenting than she realized it was to be so far away from him for so long.
With a groan she forced his lips apart and dragged her hands into his hair. "Angad." She said his name in a whisper. Fingers racing down, she tugged at his shirt, hands slipping under and over him. Soft, smooth skin. Rippling muscle. A sheer male body. Greedy, she tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it away. It fell with a whisper with her cloths that he'd thrown on the floor just moments ago.
"No." He said the word and stopped himself and her as she reached for the snap of his jeans. "We can't do this. It's stupid, insane. It's wrong. We are wrong."
"No it's not. Tell me you don't want me, Angad." She looked into those smoky grey eyes as saw the desire so clear it made her shiver. And she knew what he needed. "Not for love." She said. "I don't love you, Angad. But, I want to be with you tonight."
He looked at her. In her high shoes, their eyes and mouths were almost lined up. "Step out of your shoes."
"What?"
"Your shoes." He took her hands and helped her. "I don't want to make love with you."
"Then you don't have to." She took his hands, pressed them against her. "I told you its not for love. Just be with me," she said and reached up to kiss him again. The kiss on her part was gentle. But, he turned the tables again.
Heat.
No, this wasn't going to be for love Kripa thought, for him. But it was going to be just to be together. It was enough.
His mouth still on hers he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. The minute they were there, Kripa rolled with him and realized he had not made the bed in the morning. The sheets tangled around them at their waist and they both struggled with them.
Then his hands were everywhere, tearing. His lips branding. She didn't mind the speed. It was still love for her. Passions were a true part of love. As was hunger and desire and need. She felt it all here with him. She didn't mind the urgency in his hands as he dragged at her cloths. She found it astonishing that he could want her so much.
But deep inside her there was panic. She'd never been here before. She didn't know what she was to expect or to give. The man with her had been married. And, she was sure he had been with more than just the lady he was married to before. He'd been here while she hadn't.
She wasn't sure if she was going to be in pain after this. Or if she was going to be simply humiliated. She knew she wanted this. And, him. It seemed to be enough.
When she came back they were rolling again, flesh to flesh.
Angad pressed his lips to her mouth again. Left her needing more and moved down to her throat. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't want to know. He couldn't think. All he could do was taste. Taste the woman who he'd wanted for so long. The woman he'd…. He dragged the thought away and tasted her again. And, he felt as if he'd waited for her his entire life.
Her assumptions weren't wrong. There had been too many one night stands in his life. He had been married. But none of it had been what was happening here. He'd been gentle with Sonya, always gentle. With Kripa while he wanted to be gentle with her, he was afraid. He knew he'd let a large part of his heart already slide. By being gentle, but showing her the love she deserved, he was going to open the gates larger and he didn't want that. He wasn't ready to give that up again. He'd promised himself his heart would be his to keep.
So he took and wasn't sure if he gave anything to her. But she moved under him. Her hands searched and soothed. She was soft like he remembered from the kiss they had shared nearly two weeks ago. Her neck was tanned as he skimmed his lips down the slender line of it. Her pulse was jumping there, unrelenting. He felt his heart give a little He pressed kissed up neck, lingered to nibble and taste. To show and to take, now. Then, he took her back down. His lips between her breasts, her skin there was smooth, milk white almost. Tearing his mouth, he slid down to her stomach. Then tracing the path back up, and drove her mad.
Kripa dragged her hands through his hair and forced his mouth to come back to hers. She quivered as he pleased her with his hands, made love to just her mouth.
She moaned, said just his name in a breathy whisper. It seemed to be the only thing she could think of now.
He lifted his face and looked down at her for the first time since they both had been pulled into the whirlwind. She looked so soft, so fragile. Her hair, although shorter now, fanned over his pillow. She closed her mouth as his mouth came back to hers. She arched and offered. He took her deeper.
A little longer, a little faster, a little deeper.
His hands skimmed over her again, cupped her again. Her eyes opened in shock when his mouth gentled on hers. It felt as if her heart was going to burst open. Her breath was backing-up in her lungs again. She thought she screamed his name, but in reality it was a whisper so soft, so low, only she heard it. Rolling to the edge faster again, she let her nails bit into his shoulders, slid down in back, and knew she would leave marks there, as he would on her.
He cursed himself again and again for not giving her the love, then intimacy she needed. He knew she wanted for sure. He was more self-aware that he wouldn't be surprised if he woke-up after this, burning in hell.
She was damp and writhing. And, she was so beautiful. He didn't have to open his eyes to see that. His hands fisted over the sheets and then he felt hers slid under both of his and link. He felt, heard his heart fall and crash.
He felt like he was hurting her. Invading her. He knew he was taking her innocence form her forever.
"Kripa." He whispered her name into her ear. "I don't love you."
She didn't sigh; her heart wept.. "I don't love you, either."
Just dandy, he thought and plunged.
Nearly ten minutes later he was still lying over her, their hands linked, legs tangled, his face buried into her hair. And, he wished, desperately, for her to say something. Anything. The woman hadn't made one noise in ten minutes. With as much dignity as he could find, he rolled off of her. It tore him apart when she went with him and her arms curved around him and her head nuzzled at his chest.
"Kripa." Hands wanting to shiver, he stroked her silk like hair. He knew he was definitely going to burn in hell for wanting her all over again already.
"Hmmm?" She rubbed her cheek over his chest and felt the light indent. When she found more energy she was going to take a look at what it was. Now, she felt like she was floating in the aftermath of love.
Oh it had been love, she knew that. Sighing, completely content, she tightened her arms around him.
"How are you?" Oh, how lame, Khanna.
"I'm prefect. I've never felt better before." She heard fireworks from far away and her lips curved. "Happy New Year."
"Hmmm. Kripa, look." He lifted her face and found her blushing. God! Leaning down he kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her for the first time. "I…"
"Don't sat sorry, Angad. Please. I'm not sorry and we didn't drag each other here. We did what we did because we wanted to."
"Okay. I didn't hurt you?" He stroked with gentle hands. "Are you sure you don't want a bath or anything? I'll get you something to eat. Are you cold? The fire's dying." He loosened his arms around her to get up.
"Angad!" She laughed. He was such an expert at over-worrying. "No. I'm fine. I'm not hungry or cold. I'm definitely not hurt."
He kissed her hair again. He had been damn sure her and Prithvi had shared this before. He turned her to her back and looked down at her. The fire was playing on her face lightly, her eyes were sleepy. Leaning down he kissed them. Then her mouth, still heavy from his.
"Did I disappoint you?" She wondered out loud and made him laugh. "Seriously." She lifted his face to look at him and didn't feel awkward or humiliated. She felt fresh and in love.
"No, love." He kissed her forehead again. "You didn't. I know I should have been more gentle. Specially since you read those silly romance novels, I'm sure you had a image in your mind of how you wanted to be made love to."
"I don't know." She framed his face, finger lightly touching the side of his face. "You make me happy, Angad. I've been more happy in the last few months than I have been in a very long time." She touched his lips with her very lightly. "I hope you don't hate me for all those fights. I don't want to make you sad. I don't want to fight with you."
He sighed. "You're supposed to be weepy and teary eyed for your first time. Or trembling or in shock for the ruthlessness."
"I see." She combed his hair back, fisted her hand lightly so they wouldn't fall back against his forehead. "Well, since I didn't get all that right, we should try again. Next time I'll be teary eyed and then I'll bawl, followed by trembling in shock. You'll have to show me again, Angad, so I can get it right this time."
Much later, while she slept curled against him, Angad lay beside her, his arms around her to keep her warm, he wondered what she really felt. He wondered if she felt any of the love he did for her. Hadn't she made it clear that she just wanted to be with him. It wasn't love. Just sex. He slid out of bed and found a pair of sweats to tug on and went to add wood to the fire that was dying again. When he turned around he just watched Kripa sleep. He'd done it so many times before, just watched her sleep. Now, she slept on his side of the bed, in his shirt, her body still warm from his, he wasn't sure if he could ever let go of her. But, she knew nothing of his past, he realized as he searched for a cigarette. She knew nothing of who her husband was before he had stepped into the world of glitz and glamour.
He gave up on finding the cigarette. When she stirred he turned towards her. Her arms reached out for him and he felt his heart fill with warm love.
"Angad" She patted the bed for him and didn't find him.
"Yes, love." He slid in beside her and held her against him. She was like a child, he thought with a smile. Angry one second, content the next.
"Don't go anywhere. Okay?" She shifted and laid her head on his heart.
"Okay." He smoothed her hair out and rubbed her back. "Go to sleep."
"Hmmm. Angad."
"Yeah?" He looked down at her and she was sleeping.
?
Kripa shifted and because she was cold, she reached for Angad. The bed was empty. She tried not to frown and at the same time wondered if he had slept beside her at all the night before. Although they had shared the bed, she wasn't sure if he had wanted to share the sweet intimacy of just sleeping beside her after making love with her. She'd sensed a reserve from his last night she wish he didn't keep.
She shifted deeper under the blankets and groaned. Love? She wasn't sure what it had been for him in the end. Being gentle, and he hadn't been very gentle throughout the night, he stole a moment to for a light touch, but again, being gentle didn't mean love. It could have simply meant sympathy. And, although she had wanted to be with him, now she felt like that it had meant nothing for him. Or things so different than her. He hadn't been in bed when she had woken up in the middle of the night. He wasn't here now.
She wondered where he was.
Defeated yet determined to make the best out of everything, she rolled out of bed in that extra large t-shirt of his she had borrowed the night before. Standing in the open window she stretched out her arms and looked at the waves crashing on the bed in front of her. Just a beautiful view. With her hands still stretched over her head, she lowered them slowly and rested them on top of her head, hands linked, as she watched Angad jog at the shore.
She glanced at the watch. Eight. She looked back at him. He ignored everyone who greeted him, who smiled at him. Then, she noticed the headphones in his ears and grinned. She laughed and spun in a happy circle at the window.
She made the bed, their bed, for the first time in her life, singing like a sixteen-year old madly in love. She showered with the windows of the bathroom open and the music blasting from the room. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so happy.
After dressing into a pair of shorts, which skimmed her knees and a plain black t-shirt and went into the garden barefooted, still singing, and slammed right into that hard muscled chest of his.
She beamed at him. "Good morning, Angad. Did you enjoy you jog?"
A little cautious, he narrowed his eyes. "Good morning. I though you'd sleep more." He evaded her before she could reach up and kissed him. He wasn't sure if he could handle any physical contact with her yet.
"No." She frowned and then followed him back into the house. "If you're making breakfast, I could help you."
"It's okay, I could do that myself. I'm sure you have things to do." He tossed the I-Pod on the table and pulled of the sweatshirt. His plain white shirt under it was streaked with sweat in a long line in the center of the front and the back of his shirt. She could all but see his muscles ripple under his shirt.
"No, actually I don't. I normally go home for New Years." She linked her hands together as he turned on the pot to brew coffee. "I understand if you don't want to come, but I'd like you to come."
"I don't know if I can." He dumped the grounded coffee into the water. "You can go."
She huffed now. If the damn man wasn't going to give an inch, well then nor was she. She was done trying now. "You know what Khanna." She grabbed him from the neck of his shirt from the back and turned him forcefully. "Here's the deal, you freak, you can sit in this den of yours and brood all day. Then you can go all the way to hell and back, without worrying I'll give a damn. But, you have no right to be so aloof and… aloof," she decided, "with me. Specially not after we spent an entire night together. Now you can go to hell or stay here. I'm leaving."
"Kripa." He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the floor. She squeaked in shock as he set her on the counter. "If you don't learn to control your temper, I swear I'll kill you. Now, listen. Last night was just sex. S-E-X." It hurt so much, but Kripa's used her talents to keep her eyes blank. "Our marriage is going to be over in a little less than four months now. I don't want to, I don't need to, know your family and spend time with them, okay? I know I'm not sorry for what happened last night. But I still hope it had never happened. I had no right to touch you."
They stared at each other for a few seconds before Kripa shocked them both by raising her hand and wiping it against his face. "I was so wrong about you, Angad." She jumped down from the counter and walked away calm and cool.
Angad slammed his hand against the wall and swore until he ran out of breathe.
Kripa spent about fifteen minutes in her bedroom. The music was lasting as she tore the room apart and swore. When she stopped, the entire room was upside down.
She found her keys and sunglasses and left the house. She dropped the wedding band Angad had given her on the floor and never noticed.
When Angad came into his room he stood at the door with his eyes wide in shock. The mattress on the bed was lying in the floor. The mirror was cracked behind it, the sheets tore in another world. His cloths all spread on the floor. She had broken all the little pots and bottles of perfumes that had been sitting on the dresser as well. The room smelled of a million different scents.
He found himself some cloths from the floor and as he walked back he found her ring lying on the floor and cursed her. The lady needed a lesson and he was going to give it to her very soon.
?
Kripa took the longest route to her parents house. What the hell did the man think of himself? Fine, it had been sex. So what? People who shared just sex were still close. They didn't ignore each other in the morning. They didn't slap each other with words or hands. She frowned behind her sunglasses as the yellow light turned into red. She wasn't going to talk to him or give him one second of her time. He could brood all he wanted and she wasn't going to care.
What the hell had she been thinking when she had ran into love with him in the matter of two months? She rubbed her hand over her heart. She knew that wall had fallen a long time ago and there was no point in building it up again. If she knew anything about Angad, she knew he would be saying sorry soon enough. She frowned and turned towards the freeway and picked up speed. Very quickly, taking the risk, she clipped her hair back and then let the hood of her car down. The wind cut through her so sharply, it left her satisfied.
God, what had gotten into her when she had slapped him? She knew she shouldn't have done that. Or torn the damn room apart. She had to go live in that room again.
Well there were like six more rooms she could live in. In fact, she was going to do just that. No way in hell she was leaving him four months early. The house was just so beautiful. She was going to live in a separate room and never come in his way. She had about five scripts she had to read and chose from. If she wanted, she would sign all of them and just to keep herself busy enough. And, if none of them appealed to her, she could just go on another vacation. She hadn't shopped for sometime and Paris would be just the perfect place to waste a few thousand dollars. She could even travel to London and Rome, Milan, she mused and turned the music on louder over the wind.
Who was she kidding?
Then she sighed as Angad's latest, Wounded Love poured through her speakers. Who the hell was she kidding? She laughed out loud; she had the hardest time staying away from him for two weeks and had come back four days early. She was sure she'd die if she had to stay away from him for months. For life.
She wanted to know what was bothering him. Maybe she could get them drunk on whiskey and then make him talk to her. He'd been married. Maybe he was scared to be tied down forever because of it. Maybe if he could share his life with her, he would be more comfortable around her.
That's it! Her stomach growled and she remember she hadn't had a bite in more than twenty-four hours. She had planned to the night before until Angad had ravished her. She let out a long dreamy sigh, that could have qualified on the positive side of a purr. She took off the freeway and towards her parents lane. She knew the marriage couldn't have failed because of him. He was so sweet and caring and… yeah right! She shook her head. He was so damn aloof and selfish and self-absorbed. The man didn't care anyone but himself. I, me and myself!
But had he always been like that? & amp; nbsp;
She left her hood down and stepped out of her car and noticed she wasn't wearing her shoes again. She chuckled. One day she was going to end up at a lovely event without her shoes.
She rang the bell and waited for her parents to open the door.
"Kripa!" Kajal wrapped her arms around her daughter. She was dressed in a robe and her hair was rumpled. "How are you?"
Kripa looked at her mother and kissed her. "Did you disturb something?" She wiggled her eyebrows and made her mother wince.
"I don't know what I was thinking when you were born." She shoved hands through her hair. "You don't even try to be discreet. Anyways, we were still sleeping."
"We!" She giggled when her mother shook her head. "Oh, Mom." She wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. "I'm so happy."
"I can see that." She turned around and reached up to kiss her forehead. "You're in love."
"Yes." She sighed and knew it wasn't a question, but a statement. A very true one.
Kajal looked at her daughter. She hadn't seen Kripa this happy since she had held her first Oscar. Not this happy. She added tea to the water. "And Angad?"
She frowned then and rummaged through the cabinets until she found her favorite box of cereal. She opened it and began eating right out of it. Kajal didn't bother to stop her. She knew it would be useless. "He cares about me one minute and the next he's so distant. One second I feel like he cares about me so much, the next he doesn't care if his words hurt me." She thought about what he had said this morning.
"That's how your father was. Not Veer." She said and sighed. "Ajay. He was one of the separated men from the world. I loved that about him."
Kripa shook her head. "Angad isn't like that, Mom. He likes to be around people, he's in a profession which demands that. He's so warm with so many people. But with me, he keeps going back and forth. I can't stand it, Mom. It hurts." She set the box down and her eyes filled so quickly.
"Oh, baby." Kajal went and wrapped her arms around Kripa. "Love hurts, honey. You'll have to learn that."
"What's all this about?" Veer demanded from the door. "Why are you guys crying?" He went to kissed both his wife and his daughter and then took Kripa's shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sniffed. "I love you, Daddy."
He looked at Kajal and a message passed between them that no one else could understand, but them. "I love you, too, love." He kissed the top of her head. "What's wrong?"
"Why couldn't everyone be like you?" She wiped her cheeks. "You're so nice."
"Not always. Come on, lets go take a walk and your mother can fuss with her cooking till them." He offered his arm and Kripa took it.
Kripa rested her head on his shoulder as they walked across the beach. "So. How did you spend your New Year's Eve?"
She thought about Angad. The way he'd loved her. "Nothing special. I was just at home."
"That's not like you. Was Angad with you?" He stopped and sat down on the sand with her. "Has he hurt you?"
"No. I've hurt myself. What did you and Mom do?"
She looked at him and he grinned. "Nothing special." He winked at her and when she laughed he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Now tell me what's bothering you."
"Angad and I married to teach Prithvi a lesson and we were going to separate in six months. I messed it up and fell in love with him."
"You continue to shock me, Kripa. What about Prithvi?"
"I don't think I ever loved him. I was mad that he betrayed me. But, it's different with Angad." She sighed.
"He was married before," Veer pointed out.
"Yes, he was. But, he doesn't even talk to me about it. I tried once and he simply brushed it off. I don't want to push because I'm scared that he will get angry."
"Then you have to give him time. When I met your mother it was… wired. I was determined I'd never marry again. Then you and Nikki were becoming best friends and we kept meeting. It took us almost four years to finally tell each other we couldn't live without the other." He laughed. "I've made her cry and I've made her laugh since. But, I haven't let her go. We made it work and we shared everything with each other. You'll have to do that same. The only way he'll come closer to you is when he decides to share his past life with you, and the reason why he left his first wife."
She looked at her father. All those sharp features had softened. She leaned over and hugged him. "I can't wait for years," she said.
"Then you won't have to. My daughter Kripa gets what she wants. Is he planning to come to dinner today?"
"I asked and he said no."
"Don't push him into it. Once you stop paying attention he'll come to you wondering."
She groaned. "I can't believe you're telling me this."
He chuckled. "I think I've mastered the art of love after living with your mother, for almost twenty years." &am p;nb sp;
?
Angad managed to replace the mattress back on the bed and clean the broken glass before he gave up and just went to go take a shower. The woman had wished him to hell, well now he was wishing her the same. How could she just tear everything to pieces like that in fifteen minutes? He shuddered as he pulled on his jeans. And, she'd slapped him! She had been the one to say she just wanted to be there with him, well that's why he had… he shook his head and found himself a shirt from the pile on the floor. She was a spoiled brat who really knew how to throw a temper tantrum. But, she was sweet at heart. And, whatever she had wanted, he knew what they had shared between them was more than what he had made it seem.
He knew he had hurt her.
He had cut his hand twice already from the glass and has sworn and cursed her over it.
When he found the ring on the floor, he rolled her ring in his finger and frowned. Why did she just throw it here? He slipped it into his pocket. Maybe he could take her flowers and say sorry and make-up with her.
He looked at the room and winced. If she forgave him, he was going to make her clean this mess. He grabbed his keys, ready to leave then stopped. What if she didn't want to see him there? Maybe he could just call her and see if she didn't mind if he came.
Well, he thought as he locked the house, if she wanted she could just throw him out of the house again. When he arrived at her childhood house he could hear the music inside. From the window as tall as the ceiling, he could see the large Christmas tree which hadn't come down yet. He had taken his down two days after Christmas. The cheery lights had made him think of Kripa. Every corner of the house was filled with her. He could link every room in the house to her. Her laughter and her tears. Her quite voice she used to sooth and the raging voice she used to fight.
Now he had four months left with her. She had never said she loved him. Or that she wanted to stay. And, he wasn't nave enough to believe that because she had slept with him she loved him. There had been so many women in his life that he had slept with but hadn't loved.
Angad scrubbed a hand over his face. What had been the point of that? He demanded. It had just been a way to convince himself he didn't need love in his life. Well how wrong had he been. He wanted that love in his life. He wanted it with Kripa.
Oh, hell! He lowered his head on the wheel in front of her house. She probably didn't even what to be with him for a lifetime. She was a nice young lady, who deserved someone better than him. Anyways, he fought with her half the time they were together. His grin came so unexpectedly as he realized he found reasons to fight with her.
He took the roses sitting on the seat beside him and stepped out of the car. If four months was all he had, he was going to make the best of them. And, in that time if destiny decided that he deserved better at least this once in his life, he would keep it.
One deep breath, the two, and he pressed the door bell. He heard the noses inside. Laughing and arguing. Someone crying. Something yelling. He heard Kripa laugh and his stomach twisted into tight knots.
Kripa's mother answered the door, laughing about something. "Angad?"
"Hi. I.. Kripa said that…" Feeling absolutely ridiculous, he shuffled on his feet. "These are for you." He handed her the flowers and smiled. "I wanted to say sorry, I couldn't make it to the Christmas dinner. Kripa said you wanted me to come."
"Yes." Kajal smiled and took the pink roses from him. She knew he had brought them for Kripa.
"I'll go." He said when she didn't invite him in.
"No." Kajal gave up and laughed. The boy needed love. "Come in. We were just about to lay dinner."
"Thank you." He walked in behind her through the small hallway and looked at pictures as he passed them. He saw a happy family in them.
"I'm glad you could make it. This way."
Love. It was the first word that slammed into his mind followed by chaos. He saw a long dinner table piled with food. He saw Kripa's father laughing with his grandchildren. Nikki was fighting with Dev, with little Priti in her arms. Raj was outrageously flirting with Kripa and it made Angad smile.
She was beautiful. Until now he'd called her sexy, hot. Now he called her beautiful. She hadn't fussed with her face. Her outfit was simply in jeans shorts and a plain black shirt. Her hair half clipped back so messily, falling across her forehead, brushing her cheeks. Then she was throwing her head back and laughing. It was the only thing he could hear and see. Later, he noticed the easy way she placed her hands on her fathers shoulders. Angad smiled when Veer said something and Kripa leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving him a loving shake.
"We need another plate." Kajal announced as she walked into the room, the roses in a lovely vase now. "Take a seat, Angad. Kripa leave your father alone and eat. Dev and Nikki stop fighting. No one cares about football at the moment. Raj, have some shame and stop flirting with you sister-in-law in front of your wife." Three orders and everyone was in place and eating. He frowned when Kripa didn't even bother to look as him. "Angad, sit. No one eats standing in my house." Kajal nudged him into a chair. "Kripa serve."
"Why can't he do that himself?" Her words came so close to a bark. She gave him a hateful look across the table.
"Kripa-"
"It's okay." He began to reach for the serving spoon when Kripa was snatching it and his plate. He pressed his lips together to hold the smile. Over their heads, Kajal and Veer exchanged smiles. "Thanks."
"Whatever." She went back to her dinner and tried to not be annoyed when he didn't talk to her and got busy in a conversation with Nikki, Dev, and Raj about his work. While he listened and spoke when he wanted to, she took the time to look at him. He hadn't shaved, it was just like him. His hair was windblown and he kept shoving his hand though it to keep it off his forehead. He laughed and it made her smile. He didn't laugh enough. When he shoved his right hand though his hair she noticed the bandage and tried not to reach over and demanded what he had done to himself.
"Oh, honey." It was Kajal who was reaching for his hand. "What did you do to your hand? Did you see a doctor?"
"Ah. No. It's nothing big, actually. Just glass." He tried not to take his hand back. "Mrs. Kapoor, its fine." Kripa frowned that he called her Mrs. Kapoor.
"Let's go clean it and bandage it again, honey. I would hate to find out you had to get your hand amputated."
He laughed and shocked himself more than anyone else. "Okay." Kripa frowned into her food as they walked away.
Angad was looking at Kajal, while she nursed his hand. Kripa had her eyes, he noticed. They were big and brown like her daughter's. Warm like they were now, and sharp when she ordered someone. He could imagine her in court as an attorney or a judge. He suddenly hissed when his hand tingled with pain.
"Sorry. What did you do?" She asked and wrapped a white bandage around it. "Too tight?" She looked at him. He had such intense eyes, she thought. There was something behind them he tried too hard to conceal.
"A little. Kripa broke the mirror in our room, I was cleaning it up." He sighed and took his hand away from Kajal's. "Thanks."
"Angad." She touched his arm to stop him. "Kripa is a little over dramatic. I think I spoiled her all the years she was without her father. And, then Veer spoiled her more later. She's not bad at heart."
"I know that." He stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Veer… he…"
"He isn't Kripa's real father. Her real father died when Kripa was two. Car crash," she explained. "She never got to know him. She'll tell you the story if you ask her." She reached up and touched his cheek. "Tell her yours, Angad." She watched his eyes flash. "Angad." She took the hands he had slipped out of his pockets. "A marriage isn't meant to be anything but a lifetime thing, Angad. I don't understand why you even listened to her and married her." She smiled when he narrowed his eyes. "She can't keep secrets," she explained.
"Mrs. Kapoor…"
"You call me by my first name, Angad. Give yourself and Kripa a chance. Okay?"
"Aunty." He gave in and leaned down to kiss her forehead. He wanted, so badly, to hold her and take the comfort she was silently offering. "I can't call you by your first name, I think Kripa would skin me."
Kajal laughed. "You're good for her. Much better than who is was going to marry. Come on. We'll get a cup of coffee for you and we can tease Kripa together. I'm sure she's fuming right now."
"I was wondering if you could just keep her here. I'm a little scared to go home with her alone." They both stepped into the living room laughing. Kripa looked at them and smiled. She knew she would never get used to that easy sound coming from him. When he came and sat down on the floor behind her, she straightened. She wasn't going to give him a single inch. Not until he said sorry for what he had done in the morning anyways.
"Thank you." She heard him say when Kajal handed him the cup.
"Angad, your new song is a heartbreaker." It came from Nikki.
"In a good way I hope," he said and with his free hand grabbed Kripa's. "It's part of Kripa's latest ventures soundtrack." Kripa finally gave up and turned her hand over under his, he linked figures and shifted close until their bodies brushed. While he though no one noticed both Kajal and Veer did. "We spent hours on it."
"It was the same day Angad broke Prithvi's nose and jaw." He winced behind her and make Veer laugh. "I loved it."
"I knew there was something to like about you." Veer grinned at his son-in-law. "He deserved more than just a broken nose and a jaw. But I agree, it's a good song."
"Thank you." When Kajal slid in beside him, Angad noticed how easily Veer's arm went around her shoulder. The way he brush his figures through her hair. Angad tore his eyes away. He wondered if he could share the same thing with Kripa twenty years from now. Then Kripa was leaning back into him comfortably as she shared a conversation with her sister. Angad looked at Nikki. Her three children were sitting around her. And, she was sitting, curved in her husbands arm. They all shared something here he had hardly seen. No, he realized later, he had never seen.
At his house, Angad had spent an hour behind his piano. But music couldn't come out of him. Constantly, Kajal's words came into his mind. He should tell Kripa everything. He pushed away from the piano and blew the smoke from his cigar.
She was lying in bed under black silk sheets. Where the hell had they come from? There were candles lit on high metal stands. His extremely manly room had been transformed into a princesses beauty-sleeping room, and smelled a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. He frowned when he noticed she had cleaned the rest of the room on her own.
"No need to leave, Angad." She shifted and turned the page of her book. He hadn't though she would notice. "If you want us to live in separate rooms I'll go from here. This room is yours." She closed the book and set it aside.
"No. It's cold in here." The window was open and he could hear the waves crashing. He looked at her and found her staring back at him. He sighed and crossed the room to sit down beside her on the bed. "Where did these silly black silk things comes from?"
"I brought them." Eyes narrowed she searched his face. He was being wired. "You don't like them?"
"I normally don't sleep with silk," he explained. "You've given the room a really romantic look." He swept a gaze around again. "Anything special?"
"No. I just felt romantic. Specially with this romance novel." She waved the book in front of his face and he looked at a couple wrapped in a intimately tight embrace. "And, I plan to finish it tonight. I would hate to disturb you. I'll just go down and watch some T.V. as I read the book." & amp; nbsp;
"Soniya and I divorced five years ago today." He saw the shock and pain cross on her face so fast, he had to laugh. She had a heart as soft as her anger was torrid. "I met her on New Year's day almost seven years ago, and we ended it on New Years day as well. I was barely twenty-five when I met her."
"Angad." She tossed the book away and leaned over to take her face. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have bothered you." She shifted to her knees to hug him but he walked away. Was he still in love with her? She wondered. And wondering hurt. She wasn't sure if she could share him with someone else.
"Not now, Kripa. I can't let you comfort me yet. I wanted to tell you everything the day you came in the piano room and I was upset. You asked me and I realized I could tell you everything." He turned and the candles were glowing behind him. He looked lost, she realized. And, he needed love. "Will you listen, Kripa?" He needed to tell her.
"Yes, I'll listen." She linked her hands together and prepared herself for the worst.
Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed that! Hmmm... This FF has a total of seven parts.. so what? Three more parts left... Enjoy! And, please, please, please don't forget to comment! Please check this out http://india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=674612&TPN=1 �
Neha
Edited by neha9 - 18 years ago
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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