Replay: LOOK AT PAGE 47! - Page 30

Replay 8

New York city was dwelling in a snow storm. When then storm had began to brew a week ago, the snow had fallen on the New York streets like petals of white roses or soft cotton balls. Whichever analogy each individual preferred. It had even been beautiful for the first few days when the city looked like it had been covered in a soft blanket of whiteness everywhere, roads, trees, houses. Keats or Shelley could have sat in a caf and wrote poetry that was inspired by the softness of the snow, the beauty of the baby blue sky slowing being painted into a light grey, slowly walking into a mourning grey.

In it's first few days, the snow gave an invitation to lovers to take a stroll through Time Square and Madison Street.

But now, a week later, the city was beginning to lose itself in snow that was almost seven inches high at some places. The crowded streets were as empty as a church on Halloween. There was no romance in it when people were freezing even in the warmth of their houses. There was definitely nothing romantic about the loss of power in such weather. If anything, it gave those who worked like maniacs a moment to sit in their houses and not worry about what was happening in Wall Street, because in the weather nothing much could be done to make matters worse or better.

Other, who had been running behind in office or school work, took the snow days to catch-up on their work. Angad was one of those few people. Between his own accident and the time had had taken out while Kripa had been in hospital, he was running behind. Now, knowing that he couldn't get out of the house without drowning in the snow, he sat behind the large Chippendales desk tapping meticulously, yet rhythmically, at the laptop keys.

Kripa was taking a nap, like she did almost everyday at the same time, while she sat in bed to read something on pregnancy, three doors down. She was settling in and that comforted him tremendously. She was beginning to act like a pregnant woman, which amused him. Her temper, her tears, and her happiness. And, she was beginning to look like a pregnant woman, which delighted him. It even excited him At three and a half months, her stomach was beautifully strained against the snug tops she owned for morning wear. It surprised him that she didn't wear larger t-shirts that she owned to hide her stomach. What surprised him more was that he had found her standing in front of the mirror once, looking at herself, her hands pressing the material of her shirt against her stomach. Because he had known if he mentioned it then she would be embarrassed, he had simply smiled and slipped aside. Letting her enjoy her moment of privacy. He knew he didn't give her enough. He wanted to be with her, and she understood that. But even then, he didn't let her alone for more than a small amount of time. Like now, when she was sleeping. He had an urge to get up and go check on her. Make sure she was okay.

Giving his fingers a break, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was acting like an idiot, he decided. A complete idiot. Forcing himself to concentrate at the task at hand, he looked back at the screen and read the last sentence of the e-mail. It was so tedious, being the in charge of anything, and having to deal with loan managers. The loan arrangements, he mused brining his hands together under his chin, should have been done by the business manager. He supposed it was his fault that he wanted to take care of everything himself. Idly, he wondered, since when had he become a control freak. He wasn't a obsessive-compulsive. Okay, so maybe that was the wrong term. He wasn't obsessive-compulsive, he was simply careful. Now, at the absurdity of his own thoughts he snorted. In reality, Angad wasn't sure why or how he had come to take care of everything personally, with very little help of his assistants. He finished up the loan request and then, harshly, slapped down the top of the laptop. He had been working for a few hours. After lunch, when Kripa had snuck into bed and opened the book on pregnancy and babies, he had left her to her solitude and came to work on what needed to be handled. After all, he had been putting it of for a few weeks. He wasn't a careless man, but he had been careful with Kripa. He gave her attention, care, and friendship. While he did all that, he filed the word work away in the smallest, most unimportant chamber of his very complicated brain.

He got up and turned to the window behind his desk and stretched, and while he did, he idly thought about grabbing a bite to eat. Something he could munch on for a while before dinner; which Kripa had insisted she wanted to cook. He was glad that she did. Because even though she had lost her memory, she had gained back her touch in cooking. And, what took him hours to make, took her minutes and still turned out to be so much better. So, he was glad she was going to make the main course, while he fiddled around and helped her. Kind of.

He glanced at the lock. Kripa would probably sleep for another forty-five minutes, if she was sticking to her daily schedule. In that time he could go down, start to brew a pot of coffee and while it brewed, come up to take a quick shower. It didn't shame him to admit he was still dressed in the PJ's he had slept in.

The coffee was brewing at it's steady pace when Angad came into his bedroom. Like he expected she was sleeping in the center of the bed, the book tossed away. Because he couldn't resist, he walked over to the bed, and bent to kiss her. He'd aimed for the forehead, but found himself laying his lips over hers. She stirred a little, smiled at him with closed eyes when he inched back to look at him, and then simply fell back asleep. Angad laughed a little and then leaned down to press his lips to her forehead. Walking to the bathroom he stripped out of his nightwear, throwing it into a hamper. As promised, he took a quick shower. When he got out of the shower, he could smell the coffee in his room. Grinning like a fool, he took a deep breathe. In the bed, Kripa stirred, and made a disapproving sound at the smell of the coffee. She mumbled something again and then pulled a pillow to cover her face with it.

Slightly amused, Angad watched her walk out of sleep as he pulled on a pair of pants and snapped them. Without bothering to wear a shirt, he went to the bed pulled the pillow out of her hands. "Rise and shine."

She blinked her eyes open and realized that the smell of coffee was very much there and not at all a dream. Grimacing, pushing her weight on her elbows, she leaned closer to his face. Just an attractive face, she thought. Beautiful eyes, sexy mouth. And the man was her husband. It made her laugh in amusement when she thought about it. So many of her memories were clear now. But it came in bits and peaces and sometimes it made no sense. That's when Angad came in to distract her, relax her, tell her. There was nothing she could do but be grateful.

That was only a few moments before. Now she wanted to strangle him.

Angad saw her eyes change and the sign Mood Swing in Motion flashed red and bright. "Hi. I was just about to wake you up."

"Did you make coffee Angad?" She pushed him away because she felt like someone was suffocating her. "You know I get queasy when I smell coffee right now. Couldn't you just live a few days without it?"

"Ah." He would have if she had told him he coffee made her sick. However, at the moment, he saw her turning green. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He scooped her up in one quick move. Moving to the room balcony, he shoved the French doors open with his shoulder. The cold slapped them both. Specially him, he swore, cursed her, then himself. Then the snow. "Let me get coats." He rushed back inside and bundled himself in a coat, and brings her back with glove and the whole package. She was shivering when he got out but, she wasn't green anymore. He bundled her up in the coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, helped her on with the gloves while she continued to scream at him. Because he could swear he was going to lose his temper for the first time since she had moved in, he simply yanked her against him and fixed his mouth hotly on his. Dimly, he thought at least the heat of the kiss would warm her. Later, he decided he could either laugh or curse himself. He pressed her close, to him and for the first time in his life felt the swell of her stomach. Staggered, by the kiss, the way her body felt pressed to his, and perhaps the first connection to his child, he wasn't sure if he was to tear his mouth from hers and absorb just the feeling of her and their baby, or keep on kissing her and earn all three.

Kripa made a sound before she managed to wrap her arms around his neck and part her lips against his. She hadn't, for the life of her, ever thought that he would ever kiss her again. Of course there were those chaste kisses. But nothing like this. She dimly remembered the kiss they had shared when she had come to tell him she was pregnant.

He tore his mouth away from hers and they both took a big gulp of cold air before she took his mouth back to his. This time she lead the dance. While her teeth nipped at his lower lip, she struggled to take her gloves off. She wanted to put her hands on his face, in his hair. The cold didn't matter when her bones were melting. She dropped gloves on the snowy floor and her hands sunk into his hair. The feeling was glorious. His name on her lips, her hands slid to his face, down and inside his jacket. He had snagged a shirt on and it disappointed her.

Too fast. Head spinning, heart thudding, she told herself, again and again to pull away. To put an end to what was happening.

Oh, but she wanted just one more minute of it. Another second.

Willing to risk it, she slid her hands under his shirt and her hands met the warmth of his body.

It was like heaven. Like going into oblivion.

Too long. When he had walked out of the shower, he could have never guess it was going to end like this. He felt a tug in his stomach. It was nothing more than healthy lust. He loved her, no doubt, but here, as she roamed her hands over his naked back, he felt nothing but desperation. He wanted her then, anywhere, anyhow. So answering the demand of her hands, his slid around her waist and under her shirt as well. In contrast with the searing kiss, when his fingers trailed down her ribs, over the swell of her stomach, his touch was gentle. Featherlike. Angad spread his hand over her stomach and held it there. He'd felt a child grow in her before and had lost it. Too feel it again… he wished he could express his feeling. It felt like able to extend your hand and watch gold being poured until you simply drowned in it. He wanted to bend and press his lips against the skin there, to simply kneel and hold her there. His hand moved over her stomach again, up to her rib cage, then down again; stroking, almost as if he were calming a child down.

Her reaction was opposite. Moaning, she pressed closer and then tearing her mouth from his, pressed her face against his neck. There was warmth there too, she thought a little dazed. She closed her eyes and pressed her face harder against his neck. Her hands slid out of his shirt, but she kept them around him, tightly inside the jacket. Then, with a quick thump. her heart leapt with joy when he pressed his lips against her hair. Then, for the first time, she felt the first, strong wave of love crash down on her.

Overwhelmed, she opened her eyes to look around. To absorb every feeling, every sight. She wanted to remember this if she never got her memory back. She didn't care because life could be picked up now and lived to its best. All she needed was him. And, he was here. Her face against his neck, she grinned. As her senses came back slowly, and she began to feel again, she realized one of his hands was pressed between them, against her stomach and the other was stroking against her cheek. Squeezing him, sighing, she turned her face away from his neck, to simply rest on his shoulder.

"Kripa…." He wanted to explain, so he began to pull away, both his hands on her shoulder now.

"Angad…." She didn't want to let go. It was too early. She lifted her face, and pressed her lips to his. "Just hold me. Stay here and hold me," she asked. "Please." He smiled, brushed his finger against her face and drew her, so gently, into his arms again.

"I love you, Kripa." Turning his face, he pressed his lips to her cheek. "I love you both so much." Then the other.

"We love you, too." She drew away enough to just look at his face, frame it with hers, and lean forward to press her lips against his again. "I love you." She kissed him again when his hands tightened on her arms so tight she could almost fell his flesh against her bones. "I guess I can forgive you for the coffee."

"I guess you should. You didn't tell me." When he saw her mouth open to argue, he simply finished the matter, by bring her against him and kissing her brainless again. It pleased him that Kripa made no protests to that.

Being snowed in, to Kripa anyways, was very rewarding. It meant her husband had been with her all day, and now they were enjoying a glass of wine in the kitchen while they cook. Well, he was enjoying a glass of wine and she was ignoring her glass of milk. But, they both were indeed cooking. Well, at least according to Angad, tossing a salad was very much cooking. And if neither one of them had troubles with that, it was hardly sane to ponder over the fact.

"Angad." She slapped his hand away when he continued to pour vinegar on the salad by the gallon. "We aren't bathing the lettuces in vinegar." She drained out most of the vinegar in the skin, and then added olive oil and salt as well. "Why don't you go set the table? And, light a fire if the room's cold." As if she had been cooking all her life, she checked the food on the stove, tasted, and added if it was needed. Angad stood, hands in his pockets, amused.

"I'll set-up in front of the T.V." She waved a hand at him, dismissing them. And, then yelped when he grabbed her wrist and hauled her forward.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He smiled and brushed his fingers through her hair. "I'm just happy to have you back." Sighing, he leaned over and kissed her. "Kripa you have to start going back again. Remembering things, or try at least."

She nodded, and held his hand in hers. "Sometimes when I'm sleeping I remember things. Small unimportant things that happened. Like when we went skiing after getting married. I remember that. Just small things that don't matter."

"They do matter. Everything matters." Because her eyes had begun to swim, he pressed his lips to her forehead to comfort her. "You haven't forgotten things, Kripa. You're just blocking them out. And, it's important that you convince yourself that you need to remember everything."

She shook her head, and because it was beginning to spin, she rested her head on his shoulder and held him close. She toyed with the sleeve of his shirt. She leaned back to look at him, he had picked up his glass of wine and had swallowed his first sip when she said, "I can't remember what it's like to make love with you."

He fell into a coughing fit the minute the words were out. "What! What? Kripa… have mercy on me." He set his glass down, while she laughed and rubbed her hand on his back. "You don't say stuff like that to your husband. Specially when the husband is trying to figure out how to make love to his wife again."

It was her turn to chock on laughter now. "And, you don't say that to someone whose never been made love to. Or doesn't remember." She grinned and threw her arms around his neck and pressed a smacking kiss against his mouth. "Maybe you should try doing that right about now."

"Maybe later." He patted her cheek. "I'll go set dinner. Bring a blanket." He winked, had her mouth falling, and patted her cheek again.

She brought out the dinner in the T.V. room, and a blanket like he asked. They had dinner, talked, laughed. Kripa made him clean the table, and the dishes, while she settled in front of the T.V. watching Titanic. She yawned snuggled into the sofa, and listened to Angad hum in the kitchen. "Angad!" She screamed the word, had him screaming back. "Leave them alone. It will be morning before you are done with those." She heard the water turn off and minutes later and was being picked up by Angad. She laughed, and snuggled in against him when he laid down behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

"How many times are you going to watch this movie?" Tired to the bone, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against her neck. "Now you are going to laugh in the first half, and then cry in the end."

"It just never gets old." She covered her hand with his on her stomach. "It's so romantic."

"Hmmm." He lowered himself in the sofa and with his face pressed against her neck, fell asleep. Kripa watched the whole movie and laughed and wept, just as Angad had told her she would. Then, as the night bore on, and another movie played, Kripa fell asleep beside Angad, the T.V. still buzzing into the empty night.

Somewhere in the night, Angad awoke to the sound of something crashing and found it to be the T.V. He looked down at Kripa sleeping, her face pressed into his chest now and smiled. He thought about staying on the sofa and going back to sleep. Then, thinking against it, as it was uncomfortable, he scoped her up and carried her upstairs. Then, fell into bed beside her and slept again.

When morning came, it was still snowing out side. It had slowed, and throughout the night the snow had stopped, then come back on. Angad, out of habit, drifted in and out of sleep. Faintly, Kripa's arms around his registered, as did the way one of her leg was tangled with one of his. Unaware, he shifted, and sighed, and had Kripa trapped under him from the shift. She groaned at his weight behind sleeping again. Angad lifted his face and looked down at her, grinned. She was deep in sleep like a little baby. Her words rung back in his ears I can't remember what it's like to make love with you. He grinned and decided it was time he showed her. If he wanted her to stop, he would. Very slowly, he lowered his head and only rubbed his lips over hers. Very lightly, his hands slid down to her hips and rested there. She stirred mumbled something and then her lips parted under his. Triumphant, his lips curved against hers, but he didn't deepen the kiss. Instead, he lifted his head again and peered down at her. Her eyes were closed lightly and she was waiting. Again, he dipped his head down but didn't press his lips to hers yet. Instead, he simply traced her lips with the top of his tongue until she moaned and opened her eyes to find his looking down at hers. Possessively, his hand slid up her side until his fingers were lightly touching her face.

"Good morning."

Her smile came slowly, then bloomed fully, before it turned into a grin. "A very good morning indeed." Very deliberately, she slid her hands up his back and then linked her arms around his neck. A moment later, she cupped the back of his neck and pushed his face down. "Why don't you finish what you were doing just now?"

"What was I doing?" When she lifted her head to meet his lips, he turned his head away, lowered it and skimmed his lips against her jaw. "I was thinking about making love to you. Considering you don't remember, I wanted to bring those memories back to you." He shifted his lips to the other sides of his back. "Would you like to give me your consent before I begin undressing you, Mrs. Khanna?" His moves calculated, he pushed up her shirt just enough to where his fingers whispered over her swelling stomach. She shuddered, moaned and turned her face so her lips met his. But only for a second. He lifted his face to look down at her. Her cheeks were already flushed and he had barely touched her.

She lifted her hand to his face, he turned his head and kissed her palm before bring his gaze back to hers. "Make love with me, Angad. I feel like I've waited all my life." This time when he lowered himself, his mouth met hers in a kiss that lingered.

It was like making love to her for the first time, but unlike that first time, when he had rushed her to the peak ruthlessly, this time he wanted to be gentle. He'd hardly ever been gentle with her. But then again, she had been so strong he constantly seemed to forget that she was fragile.

The kiss lasted and lasted and lasted. And, even then, when Angad shifted his lips to lay, soft, moist, lingering kisses against her face, it seemed it had lasted a time too little. He sighed as she all but fought to bring his mouth back to hers, to tempt them both he skimmed his lips against the corner of hers until she gripped his hair and brought his mouth back to hers. This time he indulged her and at the same time he began to lift her shirt, his fingers trailing the exposed skin. They rolled on the bed and her shirt was discarded somewhere. The sheets tangled around them and the made no more to discard them yet. Almost as if following Angad's moves, Kripa slid his shirt off, her fingers trailing over his warm flesh. When he groaned and turned her so she was under him again, she couldn't help but be satisfied.

"I waited so long," he said as lips and moved tormenting her. "So long," said again and then found himself rushing to free her of her pants. He tugged them down her hips, stopping a moment to press kisses against her a stomach, before moving down, his lips trailing down her thigh. She was just like he remembered, soft, so soft. Then, turning the speed to slow again, he pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh and heard her say his name in a whisper. He wanted to be slow, be gentle, but she didn't want to be. When her fingers tangled in his hair, then gripped to bring him back to her, he couldn't help but rush them both. The rolled on the bed again, struggling with Angad's cloths this time, while Kripa's body, naked, damp, pressed to his fully clothed one. Then all barriers were torn aside. Angad looked down at her and then lowered his lips to her heart. The gesture brought tears to her eyes, briefly calling herself silly, she closed her eyes and just enjoyed the way his lips felt against her heart; soft, a little warm, somewhat cool. Then he was shifting again, his tongue trailing against her collarbone, nipping delicately up her neck, then down again. He brushed his lips over the soft curve of her breast, then the other. He didn't feel her fingers tightening on his hair. Without waiting, he lifted his mouth to hers, nipped at her lips until she felt her breathe backing up in her lungs. He tore his mouth from hers, and pressed them to her neck, and before she had time to regain herself, Angad was molding his hands against her hips and diving up.

She cried out his name and the feeling of being joined with him, the shock of it, didn't seem new at all. Finally, she relaxed her fingers in his hair and slip limply down to his back, and then down to the bed. She sighed when he nestled his face between her breasts and let himself go.

Angad was sure he was killing her. He was too heavy to be on top of a pregnant lady, and he was going to move as soon as the feeling of Kripa beneath him got old. Then he realized that would never happen. He pressed his lips between her breasts and then rolled off of her, pulling her to his side.

Kripa pressed her face into his strong shoulder with a deep, satisfied sigh. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but whatever she had gotten from him was better than anything she would have ever fantasized about. Not that she had begun to fantasize about them in bed yet. She had just realized that she loved him, actually felt the love for him, for the first time yesterday. And, she had- now there was no point in lying was there?- very briefly wondered in the kitchen the night before what it would be like to be made love to by Angad. And then she had felt him beside her while she watched Titanic the night before and wondered what she was suppose to do with him sleeping so peacefully beside her while she struggled to turn and seduce him on the sofa.

She felt his lips tarry against her hair and smiled. She might have wondered why he wasn't saying anything, but the silence was so much more rewarding than his words could have been. Even then, she rolled to lay on top of him. Smiling down at him, she linked her fingers on his chest and rested her chin on him. "I love you, Angad." She slithered up his body and planted a kiss on his forehead, then both his cheeks, before resting her head on his shoulder. "I know getting my memory back is important, but even if I don't, I love you." Because the feeling overwhelmed and scared her for the first time, her eyes filled and she wiped the tears that pooled at the end of her eyes as they slid down her nose and on his chest.

The second he felt the wetness, he was sitting up, drawing her up with him. "It's silly to cry now." He watched her as she tugged the sheets to cover herself. "Kripa." Fingers playing lightly over her cheek, he said his name again so she looked at him. "You cried the first time you told me." And, he remembered he hadn't told her back. "Anyways. I love you, too. So much." He leaned over and kissed her nose. "I'd hate to see you cry after we've made such tremendous love." He found his shirt and tugged it over her head so she could let go of the sheet. "You should tell me."

She stopped wiping her tears and looked up at him. "Tell you what?"

"That I made tremendous love to you just now. And, you'd like me to do it all over again. Not that I wasn't already thinking about it."

She giggled and slid into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, you made tremendous love to me. And I'd love it if you did it all over again. Maybe after you feed me. We're starving," she said, patting her hand on her stomach. "You should take care of that, I'll go take a shower till then. No coffee," she said.

"How about we make breakfast together and then take a bath together. You need someone with you at all times."

"Maybe you can accompany me next time I need to go pee," she said cheerfully. "But I like the idea anyways." She patted his cheek, then kissed it. "You probably want your shirt back," she asked, tongue in cheek.

He read the mischief in his eyes and was amused. "Of course I do. I mean it is pretty rude to steal someone's shirt."

"You gave it to me she pointed out."

"Right. Now I'm taking it right back," he said and slipping his hand under the shirt, tugged it off. "I hope you're not too hungry." Without waiting for her answer, he lowered his lips to hers.

"Angad." Kripa rolled and settled her head on his chest. "How about food now?"

"Right." He sighed, kissed the top of her head, before he rolled out of bed and tugged in his pants again. "What would you like for breakfast, Madam."

Kripa grinned at him and propped her chin in her hands. "Since you can't provide me with a menu, I'll eat anything you bring me."

She watched him pick up his shirt. When he might have tugged it over his head, Kripa found him leaning down and tugging it down hers. "Why don't you help me?"

Lips pursed she allowed him to pull her arms through. Idly she thought how long, and what, it would take before he pulled it off her again. "Why don't you carry me to the kitchen, and I'll help you. I have very little fuel in me as it is."

"Right." Grinning at her, he scooped her up and kissed her nose when she wrapped her arms around his neck, then carried her down stairs to the kitchen. Instead of setting her down on her feet, he set her down on the counter, beside the stove. Then, he turned to get eggs out of the fridge. "So how would you like your eggs?"

"With everything in it." Wasn't it just wonderful to be married to a man who could cook? Deciding not to question it, she merely sat and watched him take out tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, some pepper, and chop them. Absentmindedly, she thought about helping him. But, it simply slid out of her mind as she watched him work his way around the kitchen. He'd popped bread in the toaster, and the kitchen was beginning to smell like spices and eggs. He worked without speaking to her. One would think he needed to concentrate, but the way he cook, with such ease, anyone could assume that he'd been born in one.

"Angad."

"Hmm?" He looked up, smiled at her. "It's almost done." He noticed the serious expression on her face and lifted a brow. "Everything okay?"

"It's perfect." Slowly, carefully, she slid down the counter and went to stand beside him. "It's absolutely perfect." She looked out the window and frowned. "I hope it's not like this on Christmas and new year."

He lowered the gas and then went to stand behind her. "It's kind of nice being stuck at home."

"Kind of, I suppose." She placed her hands over his and squeezed. "I want to set-up an appointment with a therapist."

Distracted from watching the snowfall he looked down at her with a frown. "A therapist?"

"Yes. Someone who could help me regain my memory." She turned around and looked at him. "Angad I want to remember everything before we have our baby. I didn't think it was important, but now I know it is. I want to know what I had before. I have a right to know."

"I know." Cupping her face in his hand, he bent to kiss her. "We'll talk to the doctor first." He held her close for another moment before he turned back to the stove. He knew exactly what he had to do. What he couldn't do was hurt her and the baby.

Shaking the mood away, he transferred the eggs from the skillet to the plate.

Hey guys...

Hope everyone had a good christmas and an excellent new year! As promised here's the next part. I'm gonna guess three more parts to this before I take my break. I already know what the next FF is going to be and I've already started it! 😛 I won't reveal the specifics yet but that no one on the fourm... at least as far as I know... has written anything similar! 😛 I'm keep my fingers crossed there! 😳 I know the part was shorter than others but I wanted to stop there! See ya in a few weeks... Last... please please please please please please comment! I enjoy readng them! 😉

Neha 😛