Black & White Love ~ MG ~ Chapter 15, page 24, updated 24/07 - Page 10

She didn't respond to his kiss, but she didn't pull away.

It was only when Maan began to deepen the kiss did she realise what was going on.

Her eyes snapped open, and she shoved him backwards.

"What are you doing?" she asked, glaring at him for a response.

He looked away, subconsciously touching his lips with his hand.

"What was that? What do you think you're doing? Why would you do that?"

Maan moved away, unable to answer her questions or look her in the eye.

"Of course, you're just going to walk away without giving me an answer. Like you always do." She took her coat off and threw it aside, sobered up by the shock of the kiss.

"You have to control everything. You have to assert your power over everything and everyone in your life. You have to make it know that you, Maan Singh Khurana, are in charge and everyone else has to bow their heads before you."

Her voice cracked, and he immediately regretted his actions at the sheer pain that he could sense in her words.

"Did you have to be so animalistic? Would you have taken advantage, if I wouldn't have pushed you away?"

"I would never do that to you."

"I didn't anticipate that you'd ever kiss me, but you did. Did you set up the Ayaan exposure for this very moment? Or letting me stay at Kinza's place? I thought you were being compassionate, for once, but clearly everything in your life is pre mediated and calculated and you wanted to get me drunk to satisfy your own desires."

He remained silent, knowing she was well within her rights to object. Although her accusations stung him, his behaviour had been unacceptable. And he felt compelled to owe her an apology.

After a pause between the two, he spoke.

"I apologise. It won't happen again. You have my word."

Geet hadn't finished her tirade, but Maan left the room before she could say another word.

He went into the nearest bathroom, locked the door behind him and looked at himself in the mirror.

Flashbacks of the kiss came back to him, and he resisted the urge to punch the mirror in an attempt to eradicate them from his head.

...

He hadn't returned to the room that night, but she had been unable to sleep nonetheless.

The next morning, Maan had left the house at the crack of dawn.

Geet had been taken to work by Vicky, as usual.

Smriti sensed that something had happened, judging by the unnerved expression on Geet's face that morning. It was unusual, she thought, to see someone who had been so stoic and composed to have such a frenzy in her eyes. Her daughter in law was unsettled, that much was obvious, but then her son had been unsettled since the day he brought her into the house as his wife.

Smriti's thoughts went back to Manyata. Glancing at the clock, she tutted at her daughter's growing laziness as of late and decided to take a glass of juice to her bedroom, to wake her up.

She would usually have knocked on the door. But Smriti was agitated, and opened the door with force.

She paused in her steps, and subsequently dropped the glass of juice at the sight before her.

The glass smashed against the hardwood floor.

Manyata, who had been touching her belly in front of the mirror, hastily pulled down her top as she saw the utter shock on her mother's face.

"Manyata," Smriti whispered, barely able to let her words out. "Manyata, what is going on?"

"Mother, I can explain." She took a step towards Smriti, but she held a hand out. She closed the door behind her and massaged her temples with her hands.

"You're pregnant. You're pregnant. How did this happen, Manyata? How could you do this?"

Smriti's expression changed from hurt to anger.

"Who's the father?"

"I don't know," Manyata sank to the bed, her head in her hands.

"How do you not know?! Do you realise the implications of this, Manyata? You look like you're ready to give birth! What are we going to do? What will we say to Maan?"

Manyata looked up at her mother. "Please don't tell him," she pleaded. "He'll kill me. Please, I beg you."

"You tell me how we're going to fix this because I don't see a way out."

"Send me away. Tell everyone I've gone to stay with family. Please, mother, this has to stay between me and you."

"Me, you, and the father of this child," Smriti spat out. "I will find him. And I will strangle him with my own two hands, after I've strangled you."

The hairs on the back of Manyata's neck stood up as she watched her mother storm out of her room.

...

Chauhan rocked back and forth in his chair, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"To target him, we target his flesh and blood. What does a man treasure the most? He took mine away from me. So it is now time to do the same."

He smirked at the photograph on his phone before him.

"A man's weakness is his woman. That's where we strike. Get me the details, and once I approve, we begin."

He sat back in his chair, his face set into cold, hard lines.

"I have waited for too long, Vivek. Now it begins."

...

As soon as he had received the phone call from Vivek, advising him to take precautionary measures, he had driven to the hospital and watched the revolving doors eagerly.

His pride would not allow him to ring her, or send a message, so he waited until her shift finished. Albeit, impatiently.

He contemplated Vivek's constant warnings against her. The disapproval of his family. The own confusion he felt everytime he looked at her.

As if on cue, she appeared. Her face was forlorn; her eyes were bloodshot.

She slid into the passenger seat silently, devoid of her usual arguments as to why she had to be escorted when she was perfectly capable of making her own way.

His hand tightened against the wheel.

She didn't speak, but stared down at her own hands instead.

He drove for a while, before speaking.

"You look tired."

She didn't respond.

"Did something happen?" He kept his tone as monotonous as possible.

"A patient of mine died."

Maan glanced at her, then looked back at the road. "Isn't that standard procedure? If they're ill, or they didn't survive the surgery. I assumed you would have dealt with many deaths by now."

"She wasn't ill. She didn't have surgery. She didn't get the chance to." Her fists curled. "She was a 10 year old girl who was shot by her father because the mother was seeking a divorce."

Her muscles tensed, and his jaw twitched.

Painful memories came back for both of them.

He thought of all the bodies that had lay before him... countless killings and murders had taken place by his own hands, in front of his own eyes...

There was one he would never forget.

When he finally found his voice, he spoke.

"You did your best. It's not your fault."

Geet looked at him, surprised by the sudden concern in his voice.

Maan returned her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers.

And then came the sound of the gunshot, piercing the back window of their car and sending shards of glass directly into the vehicle.