Posted:
So my friends, when I posted the trailer for this fic, I thought it would take me a day or two to finish. Turns out it took a month, my bad! đł
This was inspired by the The Withering Leaves Fall 2014 OS Contest, though you'll see it took on a life of its own...it's really really long đ
Thanks to -Tia- for some Hindi help, though most of the Hindi is not proofread and all mistakes are mine. Hindi to English translations and vocab notes are in the next post.
Do let me know what you think, and thanks for reading đ
This was inspired by the The Withering Leaves Fall 2014 OS Contest, though you'll see it took on a life of its own...it's really really long đ
Thanks to -Tia- for some Hindi help, though most of the Hindi is not proofread and all mistakes are mine. Hindi to English translations and vocab notes are in the next post.
Do let me know what you think, and thanks for reading đ
The Long Road Home
an AbhiGya OS by -mina-
Abhi kept his eyes on hers and continued, "I know I can't get those five years back. I wasn't there to take care of you during your pregnancy, I wasn't there for Aadi's birth or his first steps or his first words. I can't make up for all the things I didn't do. But this isn't about the past, Pragya. This is about the future."
~ the end ~
an AbhiGya OS by -mina-
That afternoon, Pragya cancelled her office hours and drove home early. She had big plans for how she would welcome Aadi back from his first day at school and she only had an hour to finish preparing. She knew he would love his special surprise, and it always made her happy to see him happy.
She stopped at a grocery store to pick up the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies and the brand of pasta sauce that was Aadi's favourite. Passing the international aisle, she decided to also get some gram flour. Her bachcha loved pakodas, but she tried not to feed him too much deep fried food or sweets. Today would be an exception.
She saw that the store was already full of Halloween treats and decorations for sale, and she laughed to herself. Even though she had been living in America for four years, she still couldn't get used to how much special stuff was sold for every holiday, and that too so far in advance.
She realized that this year Aadi would be old enough to really enjoy Halloween. He would probably learn about it in school, and maybe he would make some friends to go trick-or-treating with. She would have to be careful not to let him keep all his candy himself. Already he was just like his father when it came to junk food, ready to munch on snacks at any time of day or night!
Pragya ignored the small twinge of sadness that always occurred when she thought of her estranged husband. She tried to think instead of what Aadi would want to be for Halloween.
Last year she had dressed him as a puppy and taken him to a party at his nursery school. She had been amazed at how detailed some of the other children's costumes were! One little girl was a mermaid, complete with a sparkling green tail and a purple shell bikini top. One boy had actually come dressed as a Maharaja, with a golden sherwani, a jewelled turban, and a toy scimitar. His parents weren't Indian and Pragya had wondered where they had found the beautiful clothes for his costume.
Pragya remembered that Aadi had been fascinated by the one boy who had dressed like an 80s rockstar. That boy's mother had covered his face in black and white paint, with dramatic eyeliner and patches of glitter to complete the look. He had worn zebra-striped pants and a leather jacket and looked very cute. If Aadi remembered it, he would probably ask to dress like a rockstar.
Pragya knew she wouldn't be able to say no, even though it would make her heart hurt to dress up her little boy like the father he would never know. She wouldn't use face paint, but she'd have to find him a wig of long hair and a patterned bandana...and of course those silly metal dog tags on chains that Abhi always used to wear...
To distract herself as she drove home, Pragya thought about how much her life had changed. Growing up, the back to school season had been her favourite time of year. She was always excited for new books and new teachers, for the chance to study a new level of all her subjects. Of course she never stopped studying, even in the holiday times, but there was still something special about back to school.
Maa would take her and Bulbul to choose their new supplies and get their new uniforms. Bulbul would always get excited and want the more expensive, fashionable stuff that her friends had, and Maa always had to try to make her understand that they could only afford the simple things. Pragya would try to cheer Bulbul up by finding a cute eraser set or coloured pens, anything small that she could add to the boring basic supplies. It was the only kind of shopping Pragya had ever enjoyed.
Now back to school had a very different meaning. It was a sign of the start of winter and the end of summer, when Pragya had to go back to work full-time and couldn't spend whole days and weeks with her precious son anymore.
She knew she was lucky to get full time off during the summer, as most working single mothers couldn't afford to be away from work and so didn't get to spend enough time with their children. She had a very good job at the university and the head of department was understanding about her situation, so she didn't have to teach any summer courses.
It meant that she had to take an extra course during both the fall and winter semesters, though, so winter was always hard because it meant so much time away from Aadi. This year at least he would be at school instead of at nursery and baby-sitters. She couldn't believe how fast he was growing up.
She wondered if maybe next summer she could take Aadi back to India. He would be old enough to travel comfortably by then, or at least she hoped he would be. It would be nice to show him his home country, even though he was such a little American that he would surely find a hundred things to dislike.
And then he could finally spend time with his family too; he only knew his Nani and Maasi through internet video chatting, and that was not the same. Maybe Rachna and Aakash would be in town also, and he could meet their daughter, his cousin. But that could cause problems too, because he would wonder why he had a Chachu and not a father...
What was wrong with her today? She never thought so much about Abhi. From the day she'd made the decision to leave, she had closed her heart to her memories of him, to those dreams of what could never be.
Maybe it was just that it was such an important day. Her son's first day of school, when she couldn't deny that he was becoming a big boy and was no longer her little baby. Of course it was natural that her thoughts would touch on her son's father, too. For better or worse, without Abhi she would never have Aadi, and for that reason alone she knew that she would never be able to completely stop thinking of him.
Pragya pulled into her driveway and parked her car. Stepping out into the bright afternoon, she took a moment just to enjoy the clear blue sky and the light breeze refreshing the air. The trees lining her neighbourhood were still green, but it was only a matter of time before the autumn leaves would start changing colour and falling to the ground on the chilly winds of the changing season.
As she unlocked her house door, Pragya heard a car door closing nearby but she didn't pay attention to it. Just when she was about to step inside, someone called her name.
"Pragya!"
Pragya froze. There was no mistaking that voice, but she could not believe he was there. How had he found her? Why had he come? If she didn't turn around maybe she could pretend he wasn't there...but no, she was stronger than that. She could face him.
She turned and watched him walk up to her.
She was annoyed to see that he looked exactly the same, as if he hadn't aged or matured at all in five years. He was wearing his old leather jacket over a loose v-neck and a pair of dark jeans, and he even had those obnoxious dog tags around his neck.
The man was almost 40, and stilled dressed as if he was in college. Just one more sign that we weren't meant to be, Pragya thought to herself, trying to ignore how self-conscious she suddenly felt about her frumpy teaching clothes and messy hair and that ten extra pounds she had never lost after Aadi's birth...but he always knew I'm no model, she reminded herself, her eyes fixed on his face even as she felt all her inner balance sliding away.
Abhi stopped just short of her doorstep. "Hello, Pragya," he said, and his rich, deep voice awakened a hundred long-buried memories.
She swallowed hard, and clutched tightly to her canvas sac of groceries. "What are you doing here?" she asked, congratulating herself inwardly when her voice didn't break.
"We need to talk." Abhi had his hands on his hips, impatience written clear in every line of his body.
Pragya shook her head, drawing from within herself to stay firm. "No we don't. You're not welcome here."
"It's about Daadi," he replied, meeting her eyes full, not looking away as the colour drained from her face.
Oh. The one thing he could say to get her to listen. Of course. "What about Daadi?" she asked hesitantly, afraid to hear bad news.
Abhi glanced at the street and then back at her door. "Not here. Let me inside."
Let me inside. He'd said the same thing, that night five years ago.
One glass of wine had turned to four because she'd been feeling reckless at the stupid sponsored function they had to attend together. Then they'd ended up back home and tumbled into one of those long, wandering conversations they never had while sober in the light of day. And let me inside your heart had turned into let me hold you and let me kiss you and one choice blurred into the next and then they woke up together the morning after, tangled together with pounding headaches and a shared unspoken resolution to pretend that nothing had happened.
And six weeks after that it became obvious that something had happened, only he wanted nothing to do with it...
Pragya snapped back to the present as Abhi waved his hand in front of her eyes. "Hello, Chashmish? I didn't come all this way to stand at your doorstep. Let's go inside."
For a long moment, Pragya simply stared at him. He looked so out of place on her quiet suburban street, and yet even after all this time it felt perfectly natural to see him in front of her. Her eyes scanned his still youthful face, and slowly she noticed that he looked tired and drawn, with fine lines starting to branch from the corners of his eyes and the turn of his mouth. In their short time together, she had seen him irritated and confused and angry and even devastated, on the day Purab abandoned Aaliya at the mandap, but she had never before seen him so quietly serious.
Silently, she turned back to open her door and let him follow her inside. She took her groceries to the kitchen and didn't look at him again until she set the bag down on the counter.
He had stopped in the entry of the kitchen and stood surveying her home with open curiosity. He noticed Aadi's crayon drawings held by magnets on the refrigerator and walked over to them as if in a trance. He reached out to touch one of them, his fingers just brushing the rough construction paper before he snatched his hand back, a conflicted look crossing his face...
Pragya cleared her throat. "Well? Why are you here? What's going on with Daadi?"
Abhi turned to face her. "She's dying," he said bluntly.
No. Pragya leaned against the counter for support. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reminding herself that this had to happen someday. "What's wrong?"
"Her heart's weak. She has fainting spells and low blood pressure. She had a stroke last year and she never fully recovered." Abhi's explanation was matter of fact, all his pain and worry blanketed under simple weariness.
Why didn't I know? Pragya thought nonsensically. I should have been there. These were automatic thoughts, the reflex of her overdeveloped conscience. There was no reason for her to know, and she couldn't have been there. The rational reminders did not make her feel better.
"The doctors told me to do everything I could to keep her happy. She could go at any time, but at least she shouldn't be depressed," Abhi said, sounding as if he was reciting a routine prescription.
"Of course," Pragya answered, only half-listening. Her mind had skipped back five years to her last sight of Daadi, looking helpless and tear-stained as she was unable to stop them from separating.
She didn't like remembering Daadi that way; to make peace with herself, she'd told herself that Daadi had eventually recovered, that she was somewhere smiling and laughing and being exasperated with her family members, that she had simply accepted that Pragya and her child would not be a part of her life.
But of course it hadn't really been that way, whatever lies she told herself. And here was Abhi making her face the truth...
"She wants to see him. She wants you back."
Yes. The response came from the deepest, most locked part of her heart; it was the yearning ache of the hurt young woman who had never stopped wanting things to somehow just magically work out. But even though that was who she was at her vulnerable core, Pragya had worked hard to build a life for herself that didn't involve catering to her foolish heart's delusional needs. There was only one fair answer to give Abhi.
"No. We can't," she told him, keeping her face neutral as she said the words she knew he didn't want to hear.
Abhi did not look surprised at her answer. "Look, I know I was unjust to you. I know that I don't deserve your help. But this isn't about us. This is about Daadi. And - and about the baby. Doesn't he deserve a chance to know her, before she's gone?"
The baby. He hadn't ever bothered to find out Aadi's name. But why would he, when he'd never wanted the child or his mother in his life in the first place...Pragya shook off these useless thoughts. The important thing was to give Abhi a definite answer so that he would leave...forever.
"I'm sorry. I would help Daadi if I could, but ultimately I can't do this to my son. What happens when Daadi's gone? We'd be back out of your life, but then he'd know you, and he'd wonder why you sent him away. It's better that he never knows you, just like you wanted," Pragya said firmly.
As she watched him and waited for his response, the distant memory of his final rejection played through her mind. He had been outraged when she'd explained that she was pregnant. He had insisted that she was trying to trap him, that this was her latest chaal to get at his money. He had even dared to accuse her of taking advantage of his drunken state - as though she hadn't been equally drunk, and as if he hadn't been the one to initiate their intimacy.
His pig-headed reaction had made her so angry that she had given up all conscious hopes of a life with him in that moment. Main samajh gayi. Aapko yeh bachcha nahi chahiye, jaise aapko hamari shaadi kabhi nahin chahiye thi. He had fully agreed with that statement, and she had taken it as the final signal she needed to walk out of his life.
Nearly everyone around them had tried to get them to reconcile. Daadi had begged him to consider his responsibility to the unborn child and his family name. Her mother and other relatives had tried to convince her that she should try harder to resolve his misunderstanding of her motives. Even Aaliya had tried to help, arguing to Abhi that they had been wrong about her and Purab and now he was being wrong about her intentions again.
But Abhi hadn't wanted to listen to anybody; he felt suffocated by the mere idea of fatherhood, and he didn't want to face the reality of committing to her forever, when he'd never chosen her as his life partner to begin with.
For her part, Pragya had been immensely hurt by such a fierce rejection after they had developed a tentative friendship. But as soon as she understood that he was reacting from his innate immaturity, she started to feel that she didn't want her child to have such a father. She wanted to be a strong, loving mother to her baby; she didn't want to waste time and stress pushing her unwilling husband to grow up at the same time. He didn't want them, so she decided that they didn't need him.
Five years later, she had enough perspective to realize she could have made different choices. She could have been stubborn about claiming her rights, about staying in her lawful place as his wife. She could have ignored his tantrums and insisted that he accept the consequences of his actions. She could have calmly embraced his immaturity and helped him get used to the idea of having a family with her. All of it seemed possible now, but at the time it had felt impossible to even share the same air as him. So she had accepted his unfair decision, and she had left, and there was nothing that could make her go back...
"It wouldn't have to be like that," Abhi finally said.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I've come to take you home. Both of you."
"Our home is here now. We have a life here. I have a career, Aadi just started school -- my son is an American. There's nothing left for us in India."
"There's family. Daadi, Aaliya, your mother, Bulbul. And there's me."
"You? You're going to be there for us?"
"Yes. I know I haven't been, but now I want to be. I want us to be a family, Pragya."
"Really? What's changed?"
"I have. I...regret how things happened between us. I was in the wrong the whole time, but I didn't want to admit it. Pushing you away was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I hate myself for being the kind of man who rejected his own son, who abandoned his pregnant wife. I don't want to be that man anymore, Pragya."
"And why should I care what you want?"
"Because we shared something once. The beginning of something beautiful. I think we can get that back."
"No. There's no going back."
"Well, then you should care because you love Daadi. And because you want the best for our son."
"Our son? Please, he's my --" Suddenly, Pragya's cellphone alarm went off. The tune was "Happy Love," which was always the tune for her Aadi-related alarms. Pragya felt her face burning as she blushed in embarrassment. She cursed herself for the silly sentiment that made her keep using that song. It had been one of Aadi's lullabies in his babyhood.
Sometimes in those early days, when she still lived at her mother's home, Aadi just wouldn't stop crying and fretting. Once Bulbul had turned the radio on to drown out the noise out of sheer desperation. When Abhi's song came on, she had quickly reached to turn it off, but Pragya stopped her when she realized that Aadi had gone quiet. It was odd to see such a little baby resting calmly but so alert, as if he was listening to the music, perhaps even hearing his father's voice.
It had been a ridiculous thought, but there was no denying that as an infant, Aadi responded in a special way to "Happy Love." And as he grew older, he still liked to listen it. He had learned the words and liked to sing it when Pragya was chasing him around the house to get him into the bath. For her, the song had become so much Aadi's that it never really reminded her of Abhi anymore. But now here he was in front of her, staring at her phone in surprise, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth and bringing a light to his eyes.
Pragya snapped up her phone and turned off the alarm. "It's time to pick up Aadi." She finally looked up at him again and continued, "You have your answer. You should leave now."
Her eyes fell on her untouched bag of groceries. So much for my special surprise. At least she could still do the puja with Aadi later. It would a good lesson in tradition, if not exactly the celebration she had wanted. She could probably still fry pakodas, too, but maybe it was best to take him out to dinner. Her nerves were shot, and each second in Abhi's presence was frying them further.
"I'm not going anywhere, Pragya," Abhi said, and his voice held that tone that she hated to hear from men, that "I'm in charge, no matter what you say" tone that came from patriarchal instinct. Growing up without a father, she hadn't had to hear much of that tone, and the few male friends she had made in her life respected her too much to ever speak to her that way.
Abhi had never really used that tone with her when they'd been together. He'd sometimes been rude and sometimes demanding, but he'd always kept her at a certain distance, making a point of treating her like an unwanted stranger. But she had heard him use that commanding voice on Aaliya on some rare occasions, and it was one of the few things that could make her willful nanad behave.
Pragya didn't appreciate Abhi coming the patriarch on her, but she could feel her resolve crumbling. How easy it would be to accept his plan, to go back to being a bahu and daughter, to let him take care of her and Aadi. To walk away from this life she had worked so hard to build. Because even after everything, the idea of family duty felt paramount.
Abhi came forward and took her hand, turning it over gently and keeping his eyes on it rather than looking at her face. He traced the spot where her wedding band should have been, and a pulse of electricity jolted through her.
Her memories of their night together should have been shrouded by an alcohol haze, but she still remembered how he had kissed her hand that night. He'd started by softly bussing each finger, and then pressed his lips to her palm, then sucked on the pulse point at her wrist, then kissed along her arm, up and up and up...He had taken so much time to tease her and warm her up that when they finally joined as one, she had been desperate for it. There had been only pleasure and satisfaction, none of that first time pain she had spent half her life worried about.
He had linked their hands together, pressing their arms to the pillow above her head as he moved against her. She remembered noticing the smooth feel of his wedding band brushing her knuckles, and she remembered how good it had felt to watch that hand with the ring he wore in her name trail down her body as he worked her up with so much skill and focus. For that one night, the ring was a symbol with meaning, not just an empty prop in the wretched drama they were stretching out for their families.
She realized then that she couldn't win. She could try to send him away, but then she'd have to live with guilt about not being there for Daadi, and these memories and unfulfilled hopes would plague her, and when Aadi grew up it would be a lie to tell him that his father just didn't want him. Or if she went back with Abhi, it would be taking a foolish chance, daring to hope, giving in and losing everything she'd made of herself, subjecting herself to the risk of a greater betrayal as the stakes rose with the years...
She had all these thoughts in the instant between Abhi taking her hand and his starting to speak. His voice brought her back to the present, and she felt flushed and dazed and fought herself to stay out of the past.
"Haven't you ever wondered why I never sent divorce papers?" Abhi asked slowly, carefully stroking the sensitive skin of her palm. "I couldn't take that step, Chashmish. I couldn't close the book on us."
Pragya cleared her throat, pulling back her hand and crossing her arms against herself. "Look, if you think I've been waiting all these years for you to come back to me, you're wrong. I don't need you."
"Maybe not. But maybe you could, if you gave me the chance to be something to you. I don't know if I'll be any good as a father, and I know I've been a terrible husband. But I'm willing to try, now."
"It's not about trying!" Pragya snapped. "It's do or don't, and you already picked don't."
"So give me a second chance! We have so much life ahead of us, Pragya. So much we could share. I know we can't get back what we've lost, but ---"
He was interrupted by the front door opening. Purvi had brought Aadi home; the bus stop fell on her way back from college.
Aadi raced into the kitchen, shouting for Pragya. "Mumma, Mumma! You were supposed to be there! Only Maasi was there," he said in accusation.
Then he noticed Abhi. "Rockstar!" he said with glee, and Pragya stared at her son in surprise. She had never shown Aadi Abhi's picture, never told him about Abhi, then how -
Purvi trailed into the room, carrying Aadi's schoolbag. She stopped and stared at Abhi. "Jiju?"
Aadi turned to Purvi. "Look Maasi, look! It's the rockstar! He is here," he said in excitement. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward Abhi, as if to demand an introduction.
Abhi nodded briefly at Purvi, but his eyes were on Aadi. Pragya watched with dread as Abhi picked Aadi up and carried him to a chair at the kitchen table. He sat down and kept Aadi on his lap.
They looked so much alike, it hurt her to look at them. Aadi had his father's fine, floppy hair, his wide cheekbones and broad forehead. When he smiled he had a little dimple on his left cheek like Abhi did. All those basic similarities that she'd never noticed till now - that she'd never had to - because this was the first time the two of them had ever been in the same room.
"Hello, champ," Abhi said gently, smiling like the sun. "I'm your Papa."
No, Pragya thought, although it was already too late. She could feel her carefully built life coming to pieces around her. Now there's no easy way out of this.
Purvi quietly came up to Pragya. "Di-?" she asked helplessly, looking as if she had a hundred wordless questions on her mind.
Pragya shook her head. "Go to the other room. I'll call you to get Aadi later."
Purvi squeezed her shoulder in comfort. She cast one last look at Abhi and Aadi before leaving.
Aadi had been poking at Abhi's dog tags, but he looked up in surprise at the older man's words. "Papa? But I don't have a Papa," he said in innocent confusion.
Pragya flushed. Abhi sent her a look full of heartbreak and grief and for a second she felt bad for him. But then she remembered why she had told her little boy an elaborate story about why he didn't have a father, and she got angry. No, you don't get get to make me feel bad, she thought fiercely. It was your fault, your choice!
"Tell me one thing," Abhi said to Aadi his tone teasing and light though his eyes were heavy with darker emotions. "Your favourite food is channa bhatura, right?"
Aadi nodded in surprise, smiling with delight. "Yes."
"And cauliflower is the yuckiest vegetable?"
"Yes. But Mumma puts it in parathas and makes me eat it anyway," he complained, pouting at the memory of Sunday breakfast.
"And cockroaches are the worst, but you want your Mumma to get you a dog. A big fluffy dog, like Clifford," Abhi persisted.
Pragya stared in amazed dismay, wondering how Abhi knew all that. Had he set private investigators to follow them? A chill of fear crashed over her at the thought, but then she remembered that Abhi would never think to do something so underhanded. Whatever he did, he did in front of the world...
"Yes!" Aadi said again, clearly getting excited to meet someone who knew him so well.
"And tell me, Aadi beta, wouldn't you say your Mumma's glasses are so boring, and she looks prettier without them?"
Aadi frowned. "Mumma's glasses are boring. I told her to get the diamond ones, but she said they were too shiny and the birds would come attack her face," Aadi answered, recalling one of the more disturbing conversations of his young life. "But my Mumma always looks pretty!" he concluded defensively.
Pragya felt a surge of childish satisfaction at Aadi's words. At least there was one way he wasn't like his father. So there, rockstar!
"Well, that's true too," Abhi agreed, sending another quick look at Pragya, but then he focused on Aadi again. "Do you know how I know all this, champ? Because you are my boy. You are just like me. And I have come to take you and your Mumma home."
Aadi looked from Abhi to Pragya in confusion."But we are home," he informed Abhi seriously.
Pragya bit her lip, wanting to step in with an explanation, but there was nothing she could say. It had gone too far. She would not fight with Abhi about their past in front of Aadi, and they couldn't have a real conversation about the future with him there. But Abhi was holding Aadi securely in his lap, as if now that he had him there he wouldn't let him go. And Aadi, a naturally friendly and relaxed child - with a personality just like his father's, Pragya had to admit to herself - looked perfectly happy to stay there.
"Yes, but I want you to come home with me," Abhi explained. "Home, in India. Where your Nani and your Bulbul Maasi live, and your Badi Daadi, and your Bua."
Aadi looked confused at these unfamiliar terms. But instead of asking what was meant by badi daadi and bua, he squirmed in Abhi's hold until he was facing Pragya. He had more important things on his mind. "Mumma, I'm hungry," he announced.
Pragya laughed, feeling some of the tension of the last half hour roll away as Aadi made her return to the familiar role of mother.
"Hanh, mera bachcha ko zaroor bhookh lagi hai." She walked over to him. "They don't let you eat every hour at school, do they," she teased, pinching his cheek.
"Mumma!" Aadi protested, leaning away from her to rub his cheek. But then he put his arms out, demanding to be lifted, and with relief Pragya scooped him out of Abhi's arms. Abhi looked unhappy to let go of him, but he didn't make a fuss. He simply watched as Pragya hugged Aadi tight, and then set him down on the counter.
For the next few minutes she asked Aadi about school and cut him some fruit. He ate his snack and chattered away about his new friends, his nice teacher, the funny toys in the classroom, and how he was surprised that the other kids didn't know how to read yet because shouldn't their mummas have taught them? When Aadi finished eating, Pragya told him that was enough for now, and they would talk about the rest later.
"Now, go to Purvi Maasi like a good boy and take a bath. After that, we will go out to eat dinner."
"But I don't wanna take a bath! I took a bath this morning," Aadi whined.
"Aadi, what did Mumma explain to you? Big boys take baths and stay fresh. Hain na? And you are a big boy, you are in school now!"
Aadi wrinkled his nose. "Okay." He finally agreed. "But then I want pizza," he asserted.
"Chi, Aadi, aise thodi naa request karte hai," Pragya scolded sternly.
"Sorry Mumma," Aadi replied automatically, not sounding sorry at all. "Kya hum dinner pe pizza kha sakhte?" he asked politely.
"Hanh, shabash," Pragya approved. "Chaalo, maasi ki saath jao, phir hum nikhlenge," Pragya said, helping him get off the counter.
Aadi looked over at Abhi, who was still seated in his chair at the kitchen table. "Can Rockstar Papa come with us?"
Abhi grinned in delight at this nickname. Pragya nearly choked on her words as she replied haltingly, "Yes - even he can come."
Purvi came to fetch Aadi, and Abhi and Pragya were left alone again. For a long moment they simply stared at each other, the silence growing thick with the tension between them.
Abhi was the first to speak. "He's perfect," he said softly, and Pragya could hear both wonder and pride in his voice.
He's mine, she thought immediately. Until this day she had never feared that Aadi would be taken away from her, but now Abhi was here, and he'd changed his mind, and if he decided to take Aadi there wasn't very much she could do to stop him...
"Pragya?" Abhi sounded concerned. He rose from his seat and came up to her. After a moment of hesitation, he set his hands on her shoulders, and tipped her face up so that she had to look at him. "Hey? What happened?" he asked in the gentlest tone she'd ever heard from him.
She stiffened and tried to pull away from him. "You don't have any right to touch me," she snapped.
A stubborn look crossed his face, and he slid his hands down to her waist, holding her firmly and ignoring her resistance. "You're my wife," he said, as if that should mean something.
"In name only."
"Not anymore. I really mean it, Pragya. I've come to take you both back. We're going to be a family."
"You don't get to just decide that, Abhishek! You made your choice 5 years ago. I don't want to go back, I won't -"
"Do you want to keep living this? A single mother, half a world away from everyone who cares about you? This is no way to raise a child, Pragya, not when you have a choice -"
"What choice? To go back to a marriage neither of us ever wanted, for the sake of our family members' happiness? That's not a choice, that's manipulation. And I'm not playing, Abhishek. I am not playing."
"Don't be ziddi, Pragya. Iss mein sabke bhalai --"
"Nahin! Iss mein mere bhalai nahin hai, Aadi ke bhalai nahin hai!"
"Kyun nahin hai? Pragya, this way he will grow up with both his parents, and a whole family on both sides to love and support and guide him. He'll never have to go without anything, I can send him to the best schools and buy him anything he could ever need or want --"
"Yes, yes Mr. Rockstar, you're very rich! That doesn't mean you can give my son a better life -"
"The point is, together we can give our son the best life. We can be a family. You can't be his everything, Pragya. He's going to need more people and connections as he gets older. He's going to --"
"Stop it, Abhishek. Just stop it. Millions of people grow up with single parents. Aadi will be fine. We both will, we don't need you and your grand gestures made from a guilty conscience."
Abhi finally let go of her, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Why don't you understand! You don't have to do it alone anymore. I'm telling you, I'll be there, I'll -- "
"And why should I trust you? What reason have you ever given me to believe you'll keep your word? You only ever do what suits you, and if one day you decide you don't want us anymore -"
"I won't! I won't ever not want you." He sighed, leaning against the table and running a hand through his hair. Finally he looked at her and continued, "It's been five years and I haven't been able to forget you. You can't even know how many women - what kind of women - have been throwing themselves at me. But it didn't matter how beautiful, how hi-fi, how sophisticated - I didn't want any of them. I only want you. Mere bete ki maa. My chashmish."
Was she supposed to be impressed by such a statement? It was only a reminder of how little he thought of her in the first place, how she'd never been beautiful and sophisticated enough for him.
But none of that mattered now. She countered, "And what about what I want, what I wanted? I wanted us to be a family 5 years ago, Abhishek. I wanted us to put aside our differences and build a life together." She shook her head, remembering all that had brought them to this point. "But no, you got what you wanted. You got space and independence. And you don't get to come here after all this time and just pick up as if none of that matters!"
"Of course it matters. I know it matters." Abhi straightened and stepped closer to her, but Pragya stepped back to keep her distance.
Abhi kept his eyes on hers and continued, "I know I can't get those five years back. I wasn't there to take care of you during your pregnancy, I wasn't there for Aadi's birth or his first steps or his first words. I can't make up for all the things I didn't do. But this isn't about the past, Pragya. This is about the future."
"You keep saying that, as if I should believe you that the future will be any different than the past!"
"I'm asking you to take a chance."
"You are not worth the chance."
"I'm not. But isn't Aadi? Isn't Daadi? Look, we weren't on the same page before. Now we can -"
"We're not even in the same book. Hamari kahani khatham ho chukhi hai."
"Our story will never be over. We will always have Aadi to bind us."
And what was there to say to that? Pragya couldn't argue that point. All her pain and resentment would never change the fact that Abhi was Aadi's father.
For a moment they just stared at each other in silence, the weight of the truth settling between them as they both recognized that they had reached an impasse.
Then Abhi's phone rang, and Pragya looked away from him in relief. She hugged her arms around herself and gazed absently at the view of her backyard through the kitchen window. It was still bright and sunny outside, but that felt unreal compared to the emotional storm she was presently caught in.
"Yes, hello, Aaliya?" Abhi said sharply. "What's happened?"
Pragya told herself not to watch him, but then lifted her head and watched anyway. His face showed that he was a thousand miles away, focused on whatever news his sister was giving him.
"When did this happen? What did the doctors say?" he demanded, and Pragya felt her heart clench in fear. It must be about Daadi.
"Alright. Yes, I'll come back. It will take two days, just manage until - yes. Alright. Call me with the update." Abhi turned off his phone and returned it to his pocket.
"What happened?" Pragya asked, knowing she shouldn't ask but unable to ignore her desire for an answer.
"Daadi's in the hospital. She has these spasm attacks every few weeks. Usually they can manage it at home, but there was some kind of complication with her blood pressure last night. They're keeping her under observation for a few days." Abhi's tone was brisk and matter-of-fact again. It was clear that he could only talk about Daadi's health problems in this detached way.
"Every few weeks?" Pragya repeated, troubled by the implication of such frequent problems.
"I told you, at this point there's nothing we can do but try to keep her comfortable." He came up to her again, but stopped short of touching her.
He was so close that she could smell his cologne, the same woodsy scent he had worn when they lived together. If she closed her eyes she could almost believe they were back in his extravagant bedroom, during those first weeks when they were two strangers just getting to know each other, caught in a web of misunderstandings but not yet so deeply linked...
She blinked and came back to herself. Why was it so hard to hold on to the present with him in front of her?
"Look, I know it's a lot to ask. I know you can't just pick up and leave your life. But please. For Daadi, for Aadi, for all of us. Please come back. Even if just for a visit. Just so she can see you one last time, so she can give Aadi her aashirwaad - you know how she is."
Pragya realized he was backtracking from what he said before. "Abhishek, what is it that you really want? Do you just want to respect Daadi's last wish, that's why you want us to go with you?"
"Yes. But her wish is not just to see you. She wants us all together, she wants us to try again. And I want that too."
Pragya looked into his eyes and tried to find a reason to believe him. She could see his desperation and exhaustion, but nothing that gave her confidence that saying yes to him wouldn't destroy her life all over again.
But even as she reminded herself of all the risks she would face and all the consequences she had already borne, she started to accept that she couldn't keep saying no.
He was right. It wasn't about them anymore. It was about Aadi's future, and Daadi's last days, and in the face of these imperatives Pragya discovered that her old self-destructive instinct for duty was alive and well. She had thought that becoming a mother had broken her of that habit, but now she understood that all it had done was focus it on one person.
It used to be that she would do anything for anyone who loved her. Now it was that she would do anything for Aadi.
Even go back home.
Pragya turned away from Abhi and started to clear up the plates from Aadi's snack. "I don't know how long it will take to sort out the issue of my job. I mean, we can go with you this week as an emergency, but we may not be able to stay long."
Abhi stopped her busy hands and made her face him. "Really? You mean it, you'll come back?"
She almost winced at the amount of relief and hope in his voice. It felt wrong to hear him sounding so grateful.
"We'll come for Daadi. As for the rest...I don't know. We'll just have to see."
Abhi set his hands on her shoulders, and there was a world of promise in that steadying touch. "We'll do better this time. I'll do better," he vowed.
Pragya looked into his eyes again. They still didn't offer security. Rebuilding the trust between them would be a long road.
But she decided to take the first step, and believe him.
~ the end ~
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