Culaccino
(Italian for the mark left on a surface by any form of condensation)
She wished he would stop looking at her that way.
It made keeping her faade on so much harder, his relentless, yet gentle gaze on her searching - always searching. Maybe for the truth in her lie, or the lie in her truth, she didn't know.
He looked at her as if her very hands had sculpted the moon, with so much love that her pretend viciousness faded to nothing. He looked into her eyes like they were stars, but she only saw cosmic dust in herself. He looked at her as though the universe was trapped in her eyes, as though her tears were diamonds to him - too precious to be wasted.
He looked at her as though she was everything, when, to herself, she was nothing. Nothing but a monster who had killed him and yet he came back for more. She could see it in the way his shoulders slumped when he stood, his haggard appearance, gaunt face and the bags under his eyes. She had no idea that letting him go would be so hard that she would leave claw marks on him, hurting him yet again.
She had been in jail for God knows how long, letting the days melt seamlessly into weeks without consequence, the growing green mold in the left corner of the cell was her only calendar. She stared into space for minutes and hours until the light blackened and the sky caught up with her mood. She tuned out the kind inspector and her jail mate when they asked her continuously, begging her to tell them why she was here, to tell the truth.
Stupid people. They didn't know anything. This was her fate now. It seemed like a fair deal- her life in exchange for Ranveer to be happy. Now all she waited for was the knell to echo through the brick walls, announcing her death.
Some drink too much, some smoke and some...some fall in love. Because each one dies in their own way.
At least, that's what she thought, until the reason for her existence came crashing into her life once again, screaming, begging, crying.
**
"Don't do this, Ishani. Please. The date is only a few days away. I know you didn't kill Chirag, and you do to. Then why? Please Ishani, talk to me, damn it! Let me help you, tell me the truth so I can save you from this. I promise I won't let anything happen to you if you just tell me. Please. I love-"
Ranveer stared at his ex-wife's fixed jaw, opaque gaze and blank stare that wouldn't look him in the eye and despair swam over him. When his assistant called him to say that Ishani's death sentence had been preponed, his knees had given way as he felt the world being swept from under his feet.
In that moment, he couldn't breathe. In that moment, he couldn't think of anything but the fact that the reason for his existence was going to die. For 6 months, he had wrestled with himself, telling himself he hated her for everything she had done, but this moment proved all his efforts futile.
It seemed like a cruel act of fate that just yesterday, he wished she was dead so he could forget her, but now that it was really happening, he felt like the noose was tightening around his neck. He'd rushed to the prison where Ishani was kept in a last attempt of forcing her to tell him the truth, ignoring Ritika's betrayed expression as he ran past her.
He didn't stop to think of Ishani's cruel words the last time he'd seen her and the way her sharp, callous words stabbed him. Because when the one who had shattered his heart kept the pieces, it was hard not to keep trying to find his way back in the hope that she would repair it some day. And when it meant hurting the one who actually wanted him despite the fact that he would always be incomplete- be it Ritika or his parents, he shattered them along with himself.
Love wasn't supposed to hurt, but at times it seemed that was all it did.
He'd tried to hard to wish he loved someone as simple and uncomplicated as Ritika, who seemed to love him, but he couldn't even look at her without feeling it in his bones that it would always be only Ishani he wanted in his arms and heart. And that's when he knew Ishani had broken something inside him irrevocably, and ruined him for other women. He had folded her and her memories in a box inside, but he was all tangled up with it, and couldn't break loose. With time, even if he did move on, the best part of him would still be inside that box, wrapped around Ishani's ghost.
It hurt so much to realize that sometimes relationships didn't give birth to soulmates, but soul slavery, and his would always be with Ishani.
He pleaded again, but her face didn't change, her resolve staunch. Hers was a death wish. He just needed to know why.
He wanted to scream and shout and tell her that she used to captivate him with her eyes and now he was bound by the life she threw away. Her pleasant face used to fill his dreams and now her words haunt his nightmares.
"Go away, Ranveer. It'll all be over soon. You will finally be free of me." She tried to instill some sense in him, as she gripped the jail bars in anger. His fingers wound around her own as he leaned in.
"Don't you dare say that! I will never let that happen, understand?" She could feel his breath on her face as she kept her eyes stubbornly down, his grip on her tightening, as if he were afraid to let go. She knew if she saw his eyes, saw the pain, hatred, or worse, love, she would unravel and speak, ruining everything. She wouldn't let him have that power over him, she thought furiously as she struggled to release her hands from under his, but he was too strong, keeping them in place.
He raised one hand to cup her chin firmly, raising it so that she could meet his gaze.
"I love you."
Her heart shattered once again. She didn't think she could hate herself more than she did in this moment. She shut her eyes so that he wouldn't see the tears shining, trying to gather her wits and dislodge the lump in her throat, before opening them so that he could see her steely, defiant gaze.
"And I love Chirag."
She jerked her chin away from his grasp as her words caused him to loosen his hold. She kept holding his eyes though, unable to let go of the way his beautiful chocolate eyes shimmered and melded into pain.
It wasn't as though he didn't expect her words - he knew her guard was up and she would throw spiteful words to fight him off, but it still hurt. He fought to regain control, not letting her words affect him, or the pain to overpower him - he was on a mission. If she wanted it, he would let her drag him every imaginable filth, every pain and torment she could think of just to see her smile. That much was decided when he'd first seen her at nine years old.
She was a knife whose home was his heart, and he could think of nothing he wanted more than to bare his chest to her again.
This time, he knew better than to believe her. He'd made the mistake once, and he wouldn't do so again. The evidence was in the way her breath hitched and her voice broke when she said that or the way she closed her eyes in pure anguish. He knew then, that she felt exactly what he did for her, and no amount of persuasive acting from her side could convince him again.
He smiled with determination as an image of Shikar Mehra flashed through his mind.
"Fine, Miss Ishani Parekh. Let's see how long you can keep up your act. Because this time, I'm not going anywhere. I'm fighting for you, even though it may be against you. And I will win."
The unspoken words seemed to vibrate in the air as two determined gazes clashed against each other, one smirking, the other, livid.
I won't give up.
I won't give in.
We'll see.
He squeezed her hands one last time, assuring her with his touch the way his words couldn't.
I hope the grasp of my hands feel like everything you consider home where you can trust me enough to find hiding places to put all your secrets, fears, dreams and prayers. Even your heart. I will guard it forever.
And in that insignificant moment, Ishani felt more than she had in all the six months combined. The constant knot in her stomach began to unfurl as the warmth from his curled fingers around her own spread through her body. The sting in her eyes was persistent, the hopelessness unchanging, but so was his smile, and the ever present ache of loneliness began to fade into a memory.
She watched the culaccino that appeared on the bars slowly fade when they removed their desperate, sweaty grips when the guard announced that visiting hours were over.
Just like the evanescent mark, their moments together too was fleeting, but they found completeness in these half lived moments.
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