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The Other Woman
She arched her head and bit back the moan even as her body moved in sync with his, rhythm finding rhythm as her body edged towards fulfillment, the rainbow behind her closed eyes waiting to burst open into a volley of colors. He was the only one who had the ability to bring her to this toe-tingling tide of sensation, the only one who had access to her complete surrender.
She clenched her eyes shut as his slick skin slapped against hers. If she had her way, he would have been the only one to take her like this, the only one who she could allow her body to touch. But when had she ever had her way? She hadn't when he had barged into the brothel she had just become a part of in search of a terrorist on the run. She hadn't when he had left scathing barbs in his wake, clearly disapproving of her choice, of her inability to fight with the hand destiny had dealt her. She hadn't when he had haunted her dreams for months before he had shown himself to her again. She hadn't when he had made a full turn and sought her out for a night of mindless coupling. She hadn't when he had decided he wanted her when he needed her. She hadn't when she had slowly fallen in love with him and yet continued to service other men because he didn't want to be tied down by her exclusivity.
She opened her eyes in an attempt to cull her own wayward thoughts. He had been crazed with desire tonight, his eyes wild with an urgent need she hadn't seen in those molten pools for years. She couldn't let him down today. She needed to allow him the mindless release, the ability to channel all that energy away so that he would slump into deep slumber and find peace that never seemed to reach his soul.
She raised her hand and caressed his sweaty dripping locks away from his forehead. In an instant, he stilled, his eyes finding hers, wide in shock. It was then that she realized she had done something she never had before, exhibited tenderness that wasn't part of her prescribed role.
His jaws clenched as a muscle ticked and he pulled away from her, the air swirling in the space between them and forcing her body to shiver as the heat of his body disappeared. She raised herself slightly on her arms and watched as he stepped out of the rickety cot and pulled his clothes back on. She could feel the loss, the frustration pound through her breast, turning her hands cold.
"What's wrong?" She asked, though she knew that he didn't appreciate being questioned.
"It's not your fault."
His words were curt and clipped, the tone almost ruthlessly cruel despite the fact that he was admitting to his own inability to perform.
She pushed herself up and made quick work of pulling her own choli and lehenga back on, not bothering with her undergarments that lay carelessly strewn under the bed. She stepped out of the cot and hurried up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder as he finished pulling his kurta back on. "You must be tired. Let me make you a cup of tea."
"Laila, I don't need a wife. Don't try and be one."
The brush off was hardly unprecedented. And yet the hurt was piercing. But if anything, the one thing Laila knew was when to prod and when to pull back. And now was the time for the latter. So she physically stepped away from him. "It was an offer for a cup of tea, Major Saab, not a proposal of marriage. I hear you have a wife waiting back at home already." She said casually, walking over to the other end of the small dilapidated room that was her haven. She opened the cupboard standing tall against the wall with paint peeling away in large, messy chunks all over, and retrieved a bottle of whisky. "Drink?" She asked with a slight lift of the bottle in his direction.
"Not today." He said quietly and stared at her as she poured herself a drink and gulped it down quickly, not blinking despite the fact that her throat burned with fire that the whiskey left behind.
"About Parvati..." Rudra began and Laila blinked, turning away from him on the pretext of putting the bottle of whiskey back where it belonged.
She knew she didn't imagine the sudden edge in his voice. She knew she didn't imagine the softness in his eyes. And the way his breath caught as he spoke her name out aloud. She knew he expected her to say that he didn't need to explain. The truth was, she needed an explanation. She wanted to know why he had given into a family he didn't care about, why he hadn't treated Parvati with the callousness other witnesses had received in the past. She wanted him to talk about Parvati, she wanted to hear the affection Sumer had hinted at in his cousin's demeanor towards the girl he held captive, the girl who had imprisoned him.
"I'll still be yours each night. She - is just something I need to do - for my work. I cannot let her go."
It should have been enough for her. It was more commitment than she had ever received from him. Maybe that is why it rang hollow in her ears. She knew the end had begun. And as always, she had no choice in the matter. She turned to look at him and nodded, smiling brightly as she sashayed towards him and pressed her body against his, kissing his hard mouth briefly. "Mine, Major Saab." She whispered, savoring the lie on her tongue and stored in her memory as she stepped away from him once more, her face still encased in a seductive smile.
She watched as he scanned her face and with a brief nod in her direction, bid her adieu and walked out of the small room.
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