Black & White Love ~ MG ~ Chapter 15, page 24, updated 24/07 - Page 7

As soon as his face paled, her eyes widened in realisation of her actions.

She dropped the knife and pushed him off her, scrambling to get off the bed. Maan stumbled into the wall, his face contorted in pain.

Geet grabbed a pillow and pressed it against his wound. "Hold it there, don't move! I'll be right back, don't move! Press tight!"

He slid down against the wall and held the pillow, watching her through the open door as she flung the cabinets open, looking for a first aid kit desperately.

"What have I done, oh God, what have I done?"

She was crying to herself, wiping her tears away as they clouded her vision. She found a small box of supplies and ran back into the bedroom, kneeling in front of him.

Geet took the pillow from his hand and threw it aside. She lifted his shirt up and placed a bandage over the wound, compressing it whilst she cleaned the blood around the wound.

He watched her studiously, the pain subsiding.

"There is black in your white as well."

"What?" she whispered, looking up at him, sniffling.

"You're a doctor. You save lives. But you caused injury today. It seems that you're not as white as you thought you were."

His words rang in her ears, but she ignored him as she focused on the job in hand. Once he was cleaned, she held his arm to help him stand up.

"There's painkillers in the box if you need some," she said quietly, still sniffling.

Geet turned to walk away, but then turned back to Maan.

"Look what you made me do," she said shakily. Her body was still trembling in the wake of what had just occurred. "You're making me do things that go against the fibre of my very being."

"I didn't place the knife under the pillow."

"It was for self defence. I'd never intended to use it."

"Actions speak louder than intentions."

"You made me-"

"You could have pushed me off. You could have slapped me. I wasn't holding you down. You could have kicked me. Sworn at me. Thrown the bedside lamp over my head. A darkness within you compelled you to reach for the very knife you placed here with your own two hands, and stab me."

She stiffened, suddenly unable to move.

"My point is, no one is black or white. The world is not as clear cut as it seems. There is no inherent good or bad. You proved that tonight."

A lone tear rolled down her cheek. She quietly walked away, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

Maan closed the door behind her, tossing the bloodied pillow to one side of the room alongside the choice of weapon she had used.

...

The next morning, Maan decided they were going back to live in the Khurana household, taking Ustuna with them.

Geet wasn't sure if it was Ayaan's appearance which compelled him to make the decision, or the actions of last night. All she knew was that she felt a strange sense of relief, knowing she wouldn't be confined to her own thoughts in a locked apartment all day.

The drive back to the Khurana household was silent; aside from a few glances that Maan kept throwing her way. He rearranged his face to prevent a smile creeping up at the sight of Ustuna sleeping in her lap, with her hand patting the dog's head gently.

Geet looked down at Ustuna. The only friend she would ever have in the household. It was a miracle that such a gentle, loving creature had been raised under the hands of a callous, manipulating human being but miracles were seemingly possible.

"Can I have my phone back?" she asked.

Maan looked at her pointedly. She met his gaze.

"I'm married to you now. So there's no reason for you keeping my phone. My brother knows. I want it back."

"I'll give it back to you once we're home."

"I want it now."

"What are you going to do with it now?"

"Do I have to answer to you for everything? Just give me my phone."

"As I said, I'll give it to you once we're home. I'm a man of principle. I stick to my own word."

"Don't I know it," she muttered, looking out of the window.

They pulled up to the house in silence. Geet opened the door and Ustuna, now awake, ran out of her lap and into the house as if it was second nature.

Smriti appeared at the door, her arms folded.

"Is the honeymoon over already?"

Geet shot her a dirty look as she walked past.

"It's easier for me to manage my affairs from here," Maan stated as he brushed past his mother. She grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

"Maan. My son. What's happening? Talk to your mother. Don't leave me in the dark, please."

He turned towards her, his eyebrows furrowed. "I haven't told you anything for the past 18 years. What makes you think I will now?"

He shook his arm, forcing her to release him and went inside.

Maan went straight to Vivek's office, and knocked on the door before entering. Suhana moved away from the embrace they had been in and ran a hand over hair.

"I'd like a word with you. In private."

Suhana left the room, shooting them a leaving glance before she left.

"What is it, Maan?"

"I interrogated Ali. He claims to know nothing."

"He's lying. I was told it was him. I have the proof."

Maan paced the room. "What do we do?"

Vivek studied him closely.

"Nothing. Ali is harmless, for now. I have bigger things to worry about, such as focusing on my political campaign. You need to control that firecracker wife of yours. She's dangerous, Maan. You're playing with fire."

"I'll take your leave."

Maan walked out, ignoring his uncle's words which rang in his ear.

...

Geet sat on the bed, Ustuna at her feet, her lifeline in her hands.

Maan, as promised, had given her the phone once they had returned home. She scrolled through the endless missed calls from the hospital, Deniz, Pavan, Ayaan.

Her eyes welled up at the memory of his bloodied face, defeated on the floor. No doubt he would have been admitted to the hospital for stitches.

When Maan walked into the bedroom half an hour later, Geet stood up. She asked him if he wanted tea or coffee, to his surprise. He informed her of his preference for water only.

She asked if he was hungry.

He raised an eyebrow, his jaw twitching.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want to go back to working at the hospital."

"Not possible."

"I trained for years to be a doctor. I was born to save lives. I'm restless if I'm not there."

"Save lives? Were you born to stab your husband also?"

She folded her arms in defiance. "I- it was your abdomen. You weren't going to die. And I don't consider you as my husband."

"I brought you back here. I gave you your phone back, so you can keep in touch with your brother. Don't push your luck."

"What if Vicky took me there? And brought me back?"

Maan paused for a few seconds, then shook his head. "He's not your personal chauffeur."

"Will you at least consider it?"

"I'll be home later."

The door closed behind him, giving her the answer.

...

"Vivek wants us to have dinner together tonight. To celebrate Maan and Geet's marriage," announced Smriti as she walked into the living room where Priya was sat.

Priya put her cup of tea down. "Celebrate? The girl looks like she's been held at gunpoint. Your son has his way with wooing the women."

"Is that bitterness I sense? Because he refused to woo yours?"

Priya stiffened. "If such is the case then Avni dodged a bullet. No pun intended."

She smiled at Smriti bitterly. "Think twice before you try to challenge me, Smriti. My brother and I took you and your orphaned children into our home, our lives. Show some gratitude."

"I'm paying the price for watching your beloved brother take my son away from me. I'm not here for a trip down memory lane. Dinner is at seven. That's the message I came to pass on."

Smriti walked away, leaving the air as hostile between the two women as it was when she first entered the room.

...

Maan arrived home later that evening to his family seated at the table. Vivek sat at the head of the table, with his mother to the left and Suhana to the right.

Beside Suhana sat Manyata. Opposite the two were Neil and Avni, who carefully avoided any kind of physical touch with each other.

Vicky sat beside Avni, and Priya sat at the other head of the table.

Beside Manyata, were two empty seats.

"Where is your wife?" asked Priya.

"I've just walked in. I should be asking you that question."

"I went to her room to call her down," said Smriti. "But the door was locked and she didn't respond. I thought she may be asleep."

Maan stalked up the stairs and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Geet. Open up," he said sternly.

"One second!" she called.

After a few seconds, she opened the door slightly.

"What are you doing? Everyone is waiting for you."

"If you have the capacity to be patient for more than a few minutes, I'll be there."

She tried to close the door, but he placed his foot in the crack.

"Move away," Geet demanded.

"What's going on inside? Are you up to something?"

"Yes, the secret service is here after I smuggled them in through your window."

"Open the door fully."

She sighed, and then let the door go but covered her shoulders with her hands.

It was then he realised that she was struggling to zip her red dress up, but refused any help.

"Were you going to struggle with the dress all night?"

"I had a strategy. And it would have worked, had it not been for your lack of patience."

He moved towards her. She moved back slightly, almost bumping into the mirror. She paused, and then turned around, giving him silent permission.

Careful as to avoid the skin of her back, Maan grabbed the intricate zip and pulled it up. He looked at their reflection briefly in the mirror; Geet's eyes met his in the mirror, and then he looked away.

"I'm giving you one minute to join me downstairs. You've wasted enough time as it is."

Geet ran a hand through her hair before following him. If she was going to start regaining her life back, she had to appease the Khurana's one small step at a time.

In a dress and joining them for dinner she may be, but being the obedient daughter in law she was not.

She remained silent through dinner, made a point to use her cutlery noisily, and excused herself half an hour later, before coffee could be served.

She was out of her dress when she felt the urge for fresh air, suddenly feeling suffocated and claustrophobic. Wrapping a large jumper around her, she walked out onto the terrace through the bedroom window and looked out at the dark night before her.

It was a lavish mansion, with acres of private land. The finest cars on the driveway. She wondered how many lives had been tainted as a by product of the wealth that lay before her.

Her and her brother, orphaned in their teenage years, lived a modest but happy life.

Had lived a modest and happy life.

She inhaled deeply and sighed, wondering how her life had railroaded so quickly and spiralled out of control.

Geet looked down into the gardens to see Maan sat on one of the benches, looking up at her.

They locked eyes briefly, and then she turned away and went back inside.

Maan watched the bedroom window close and the curtains close themselves shut.

When he retreated to the bedroom an hour later, he was surprised to find Geet still awake. She had been lost in her thoughts and was only alerted to his arrival when he cleared his throat.

She sat up, and then noticed his shirt and rushed towards him.

"What is it?" he asked.

Geet ushered him towards the sofa.

"Don't move, I'll be right back," she said.

Maan was perplexed as he heard the rattling sounds of Geet rummaging through the bathroom cabinets. He looked down at his shirt and saw the dark red stains of blood seeping through his wound.

She came back with a first aid box and sat beside him.

"Have you been engaging in physical combat?" she asked as she looked through the box.

"No. Why would I?"

"I wouldn't put anything past you. I'm asking because the wound shouldn't be bleeding. The only reason it would have bled is if you've applied pressure to it, or any physical movements which would have caused it to open further."

"Perhaps it was a deeper cut than you may have anticipated."

She ignored him and placed antiseptic medicine on a cloth.

"Lift your shirt up."

He did as she asked. Geet carefully removed his old bandage and cleaned the wound.

"I know it's very hard for you to avoid causing pain to others, but refrain from any one to one conflict until this heals."

Maan watched her closely, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

She looked up at him once, then back down to the wound as she began to bandage it.

"How ironic," he muttered. "The one who inflicts the pain is the one who provides the cure.

Geet moved his shirt down hastily, visibly annoyed at his remark. "You're all set."

She took the box back to the bathroom. Maan moved towards the bed, propping his pillows.

She came back, gathered the blanket from the sofa and laid it onto the floor. He threw her a pillow, which she accepted without a word.

Turning her back to him, she wrapped herself in the blanket and closed her eyes, hoping to get a few hours of sleep at least; even if it was on the bedroom floor.

Maan watched her for a while, then turned his eyes towards the ceiling and folded his arms.

When Geet woke up the next morning, she found herself in his bed.