Married By Mistake - Completed

CHAPTER ONE
November
Angad swore pungently when he entered his room. Kripa was sprawled on his bed in very short pink shorts and a white silk tank-top that was pushed up, leaving half of her back bare. He saw arms and legs everywhere. God, Kripa Kapoor? oops Kripa Khanna, God, Kripa was sexy. He had barely come to know her in the last one week. But from everything about her, he had come to know one thing about her, she didn't give up, and she was a hard worker. She had insisted on staying in the same room as Angad because she liked the view she got from the windows of the beach. But in one week, Angad still hadn't gotten used to walking into his room in the afternoon and seeing Kripa sprawled in his bed.
She worked hard; he thought and pulled the blanket over her against the chilly November air. She had left yesterday at five in the evening, had worked all night on her latest venture, and had probably come back a few hours ago like every day for the last week. Now, she was going to wake-up in exactly one hour and go for a jog. Bathe, eat a thing of yogurt, and run away again until tomorrow this time. The lady got less than five hours of sleep a night; Angad thought tugging a shirt down his head as Kripa stirred in the bed. She was going to get sick if she kept going this way.
He didn't care; he assured himself and pulled on a pair of grey sweat pants. They had there own lives. Until Prithvi came back, anyways. Angad tossed his towel in the laundry before going into the music room. He had a deadline approaching and if things went well he knew he had at least another Grammy under his belt. If things went well he would get an Oscar.
He ran his fingers over the keys and did a little warm-up exercise. The score was meant to be showing a woman in love and in anger. He thought of Kripa and couldn't understand what had caused Prithvi to suddenly decide to not get married. He was in love with Kripa, he had said so himself. Angad sighed and played the tune. None of his business.
It started from a slow weepy sound of piano and the power and pressure increased turning it into loud, angry notes. Angad closed his eyes and played what he had so far from memory. Once he had the music he knew the lyrics would be easy.
Kripa pulled the pillow over her head in an effort to block the music, but she was unsuccessful. Angry, she rolled out of bed and marched to the place the music was coming from. She hardly knew the house, but she found the music room without problem. She pushed at the heavy, large wooden doors, carved in various designs and found Angad sitting at the piano stool, his hands running fluidly over the keys. She simply marched over to him and spun him around. He looked at her annoyed. Her eyes were red, with bruises under them from the lack of sleep.
"Don't you have any respect for a dead human?" She demanded when he continued to stare at her. There was frustration in his eyes that matched the anger in hers.
"It's my house," he pointed out a moment later and turned back his piano keys. "And, three in the afternoon isn't a time to be sleeping anyways."
Kripa hissed out of her teeth. "I've been working all night, Slick. So shut the hell up. And, a smart person would have made the walls sound proof."
"Sorry, Your Highness, I didn't realize that every house in this world should be build according to your needs. Now go away, I've got work to do."
She wanted to turned him around and take a few shots at him. Instead, she fisted her hands in her hair and let out a long, loud scream. Mumbling and calling him names, she walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Angad finished his composition sitting in front of the piano, with a huge grin on his face. Maybe, he thought, running thought the end of the song one last time, the next six months weren't going to be so boring after all.
Kripa walked out of the shower still grumbling. The man had the nerve to be so rude, god damn it she had not even gotten a full twenty hours of sleep in the last seven days, couldn't he show a little bit of sympathy towards her? She sighed and pulled a pair of pink slacks over her matching pink underwear. She tugged her towel away from her head after draping herself in a collared white, silk shirt. She walked to the dresser and snatched her hairbrush, lying beside Angad's and dragged it through her hair a few quick times, before tossing it on the dresser again.
She grabbed a perfume at random and sprayed it against her long neck, replaced it beside Angad's cologne. From the second drawer she grabbed her wedding ring, still the same little diamond Angad had once worn, and pushed it into her finger.
She was not supposed to be running to work, she thought as she grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. She should have been somewhere with Prithvi making love with him and thinking about when she wanted to have her first child. If she wanted it to be a girl or a boy? What would she name it, how she would design the nursery?
Well, good for her, she thought angrily. She didn't want children; so now should wouldn't have to think about them. She knew Angad didn't want them.
The pain wanted to come and stab at her, but she quickly finished her yogurt, grabbed the keys to her 2007 Ferrari 599, in her hands months before it was released in the market, and her wallet and stormed out and past Angad with a set expression on her face. She worked and worked because she knew the minute she stopped she was going to be drowned in pain and tears. She was still in love with Prithvi and she knew it, it came to her with a passing thought as she frantically searched for her sunglasses and found them in the dash board beside the packet of Marlboros, which belonged to Prithvi. She tossed the cigarettes out and tugged her glasses on her nose. She turned the music on loud and dashed away before tears could even pool in her eyes.
Angad shook his head as he watched her car zip out of the drive way and into the road. She was devastated and her mind, heart, and body were just waiting to stop and crumble. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be the shoulder she would lean on when her system finally crashed.
He would just have to wait and watch. And, he would have to help her. He was rude with her; he gave her no sympathy because she didn't want any. Because she was strong and he believed she didn't need any. Plus, who would know about wanting and needing sympathy better than him?
Angad went to the phone whistling when it rang minutes later.

CHAPTER TWO AND THREE
Kripa hummed along with Angad's Only You, as she turned into her sister Nikki's drive way. And she took a deep gulp of the November air that mussed her hair. It had been a long time since she had drive somewhere without having to worry about time or people or appearance. Angad was gone for a recording, which was supposed to last most of the day, and she had nothing to do. And, she knew, Kripa thought unfolding herself out of the car, if she went anywhere public there were chances she could crash into Prithvi unintentionally. She knew she wasn't ready to see him alone yet.
The crying has helped too, she mused as she walked towards the front door. Thank God, Angad had been nice enough not to push her away, or even bring the uneventful moment up in front of her. He had been nice, and compassionate. Had held her until she wanted.
He was such a good cook, Kripa thought and grinned. She wished she could talk him into making her another meal. Kripa herself was an okay cook. Who was she kidding? She barely knew the C of cooking, and flipping eggs or frying bacon didn't even count. As a child her mother had always taken care of the food. As a college student of four years she survived on take-outs and microwaves. Then, as an independent woman, she had finally learned how to cook in her free time for Prithvi. She had learned, but the burning had come as a gift. She had learned for Prithvi because he had said he enjoyed homemade meals.
Kripa shook her head as she rang the doorbell. Well, she could please Angad with her cooking and help him out. He could handle the stove, she could do the pre-cooking.
She didn't care what Prithvi wanted and wants now. What she did know was that she was going to teach him a lesson so he'd never hurt another woman like the way he had hurt her. Once that was over, she could move on. Give Angad a divorce since that's what they both wanted.
And, then she was never going to thinking about getting married again. Or at least for another ten years or so. Who wanted to be married anyways? She didn't. And marriage meant children. She knew she didn't have the time or the want, the need. She couldn't devote herself to that aspect of life if she wanted to add anymore trophies to her lovely shelve at home.
Which she had to go check out, she thought as she punched the door bell again. She was probably pending on bills. She needed to change her address so the bills could come to Angad's house. For the next few months anyways. Who had the time to go and get mail everyday?
"Sorry!" Nikki beamed at Kripa, her newborn daughter snuggled at her chest. "I was feeding her. Come in."
"Thanks. Let me hold her so you can get me a nice cup of coffee." Nikki grinned and gave the baby to Kripa. Kripa went into the living room and scanned it briefly. It wasn't spotless like Kripa liked a living room to be. There were a few toys scattered around, Nisha was playing with her dolls on the floor. Aman was lying on the floor with a bottle of milk in his mouth, beginning to fall asleep. His cars surrounded him.
Nope, she didn't want this, yet Kripa forced a small tug of envy go away. Nikki wanted this, she reminded herself. She didn't. With a satisfied sigh, she stepped out of her stiletto heeled shoes and sat on the sofa, Indian style and laid the sleeping child on her legs.
"Here's your coffee." She placed it in the table in front of Kripa and went to pick up Aman. "Okay, honey." Kripa watched the boy snuggle against his mother and fall asleep again. Nikki sat down beside Kripa with Aman still in her arms, and ran a hand gently over her daughter's hair. "So, what's up? How's your married life?"
"The same." She said and shrugged. "I've been with finishing the movie, Angad has so many scores to finish, and he's always gone. How are you?"
"On top of the world. I don't want to start practicing again, Kripa. I want to be a stay-at-home wife for a few years. Until at least Priti is three, then I'll think about going back."
"But, Nikki, you worked almost twelve years for this. How can you just let go? You've wanted this all your life."
She shook her head, with a sigh. "I did. But, Raj makes enough to where we can overindulge ourselves. I want to give my family more time. But, forget about that now. How do you like being married? Angad is awfully sexy." She wiggled her eye brows at Kripa.
"And, a great cook. A nice, companionate person. He let me cry all over him when I told him I was still in love with Prithvi."
Nikki chocked on her coffee and looked at her coughing. "What? You told your husband that you were in love with someone else?"
"I said I am in love with his best friend. I'm trying fall out of love now."
Nikki looked at Kripa carefully. "Did you and Prithvi ever do to bed together?"
"Nope. Thank God. And, I haven't with Angad either. I married Angad to teach Prithvi a lesson, he knows that. In five months we'll be on our own again."
"If Mama and Dad find out, they'll skin you. Kripa." She gave her hand a squeeze. "You can't do that to Angad. What if he falls in love with you? You don't even know how poorly his marriage ended last time."
Kripa stood up and carried Priti to the crib. Oh there was guilty somewhere, but she wasn't allowing it to touch her. "He won't. We can't fall in love, Nikki. We're two different people."
"How do you know, Kripa? You barely know him. You don't know anything."
"I don't need to. And, as far as his marriage is concerned everyone knew he was cheating on his wife."
"Well, in that case you had a hot affair with the married Aaron Petty just two months ago. He's your best friend and we both know that was a lie. You need to know the person you're married to, Kripa. Even if you already have planned to end it." And Nikki knew things Kripa would have never imagine about Angad.
Kripa flipped the page of the magazine sitting in her lap upside-down. She knew Angad hadn't cheated on his wife. She knew that because he was a lonely man. He had been hurt somewhere in his life and he was still holding on to it. Kripa had never been the person to hold on to things in her past, especially bad ones. And, just because of that she knew she would over come Prithvi in a few weeks at the latest.
She wanted to know Angad. Nikki had been right; she should try to know Angad better. She tossed the magazine away and got up to get the invite to Tyler's latest bash. He'd said it was a great way to publicize the movie and get rid of money he'd have to pay in taxes later. She was invited and was also allowed to bring a guest with her. If she could convince Angad, she could spend time with him, get to know him. At the same time, she'd be able to get out and not face Prithvi alone.
She heard the piano at a distance from the music room. He was playing a sad, weepy tone in loud, yet discreet notes. So much agony lingered even when the music stopped and she heard nothing but her own breathing.
Kripa walked to the music room and opened the door slowly. He was sitting on the bench, toying with the keys. Pressing a key here, playing a note there. She left the door slightly open and went to sit down beside him, and pressed a key ideally.
Angad didn't even look at her and continued to toy with the keys. "Did you need something?"
Kripa looked at him, he hadn't shaved today and although she couldn't see his eyes, she sensed the distress in them. She went to stand behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
Oh, no Kripa thought. Something was wrong. His shoulders were stiff under her hands, knotted hopelessly. She rubbed her thumbs across the knots.
"You can talk to me."
"I'm okay. Just working on a new song." He pushed her hands away. He didn't want to talk about it with anyone. "Did you need something?" he asked again.
Fine, she'd play it his way. "Yeah. Tyler is holding a bash at his place, want to go with me?"
He closed his eyes for a second. He wasn't so badly to just go get away from here. To rest his head against the piano and weep for the child he'd lost four years ago today.
Kripa frowned and went to stand in front of him now. Her heart twisted at the way his eyes swam. "Angad?" She lifted his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "What's the matter? Did something happen at the recording?"
He smiled at the way her eyes tensed and a line formed between her brows. "Nothing, Kripa." He stood up. "I'll go with you." And, he walked out like things were just perfect in his word.
All frowns, Kripa slid down on the bench and tapped her fingers on random keys. It had been nearly six years since she had played the piano seriously. Maybe she would. Another day.
She got up and went to get dressed. Angad was blowing smoke from his slim cigar when she walked in. Damn, the guy smoked too much.
"You're going to die if you continue smoking so much." She turned the lights on in her closet and picked out a midnight blue dress.
"We all have to die someday. A day or two up and down don't matter." He tossed the tie she gave him away, made her grin. "I don't wear ties."
"I noticed." She laid her own dress out on the bed and walked behind him. "You're the most wired man I've met in my life, Angad." She pressed a kiss absently against his shoulder.
"I've been known as a wired man a lot. How's your sister?"
Her smiled warmed that he remembered. "Good. She wants to stop practicing."
Angad turned and watched her toss her shirt away, looked up at the ceil. The woman had no modesty. "Kripa, honey, if you would you like to give me a strip show, warn me before you begin."
She turned in her bra and pants to look at him. "I'm sorry I'm not modest." She shrugged. "I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable. I'll take the bathroom." Still half stripped; she grabbed her dress and walked into the bathroom. Uncomfortable or not, the woman, who was his wife, had a hell of a body. All curves and smooth skin.
Too bad, Angad, he told himself, you are not interested. He dragged his hand through his hair. A minute ago he had wanted to hold her and just spill out all the pain and tears. A minute later, he's wanted his hands all over her.
He took a deep breathe, told himself to calm down. She might be his wife, but they weren't meant to share anything. He sprayed his cologne, lit another cigarette and went to pull on his pants. He had Prithvi to face after this.
When Kripa finished fussing with her hair she went downstairs and locked the house. Angad was sitting in the roomy Mercedes-Benz. She slipped in beside him and pulled on the seat belt. "Let's go."
"Yeah." He waited until they were on the freeway to talk to her. "So what are we telling Prithvi?"
She glanced at him. And, had a terrible urge to reach over and rub her hands against that stubble, which made him look so dangerous. "We'll just play along. I honestly want to keep out of his way."
Angad stopped the car in front of the gate and dropped the keys in the hands of a waiter. He looked at Kripa, offered his arm with a smile on his lips. "Only you," he said and winked.
The cameras turned to them the moment the stepped inside. Neither Kripa nor Angad bothered to look at the flashes, pose for them.
"The Khannas!" Tyler beamed at Kripa and Angad. He kissed both of Kripa's cheeks and shook hands with Angad. "Angad I hope you're considering my offer for the score." He wiggled his eyebrows. "What better than working on a project with your wife around?"
Angad grinned, wrapped his arm around Kripa's shoulder. "I agree, I'll take it." It would just give him a reason to keep an eye out on Prithvi while he'd be around Kripa. Plus, he could add another name to his list.
"Ah! The perfect way to start an evening: A profitable deal, with the best in the field." He winked at Kripa. "Enjoy yourselves."
Kripa smiled at him and then look up at Angad. "You did that well."
"Of course I did. How does it feel to be a Khanna?" He plucked two flutes of champagne and handed one to Kripa.
"Oh, it's very special." She chuckled. "I was on a getting-to-know-my-husband-better mission. Nikki thinks I need to know you better."
"Ah. That's smart. I'm an affable sort of a person, Your Highness." He looked over her head where Prithvi had just walked in with his guest hanging on her arm.
"Yes. And you cook well." She gave her flute away. "Don't drink too much we have to drive."
"Oh! The wifely attitude, I've been dying for it." He wrapped his arm around her waist because it was important for what he had in mind. He gave his flute to the waiter. "Now listen to me, your lover boy Prithvi is behind you right now." He watched her chocolate brown eyes turn into a dark coffee colour. "You have to promise me you won't get teary eyed in front of him or lose control. We're not attracting any attention." Because he saw the pain in her eyes, the anxiety, he cupped her face in his hands. "Trust me." Sonya flashed in front of his eyes and left him shocked. He took his hands away from her face. Last time he'd said the words to someone he'd lost both his wife and his baby. He didn't even know what was going to happen this time. "He's coming this way." Angad leaned down and brushed his mouth with Kripa's.
"Angad." Kripa linked hands with Angad and the turned to face him together. "It's been long." He extended his hand to Angad and shook without hesitation. "And, Kripa. My ex-fianc."
She smiled. "Well, I've had ex's before you, Prithvi." Purposely, she leaned over and kissed both his cheeks. She left Angad's hand. "It's good to see you again. Did you enjoy your sudden trip to France?"
The cool, composed voice, the frosted eyes with just the hint of sarcasm left Prithvi raising a brow at her. "It's was quite impromptu, yes. I'm sorry about the inconvenience you had to face."
"Oh, no problem. I'll see you later." She gave him a smile from her lips, made it reach her eyes and an I-hate-you just before walking away.
"Alright, Prithvi." Angad crushed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't grab his "friend" by the collar. "Why the hell did you leave to France?"
He shrugged. "I wasn't ready to get married. Why do you care, Angad? She's your wife now, you should be happy."
"I'm happy she isn't stuck with an ass-hole like you Prithvi." He would have punched him in the face then, but he decided to wait for another moment.
Kripa was laughing and dancing with Aaron. Angad smoothly cut in between and took his wife by the waste, "sorry," he said, "my turn." And spun her around in one regal turn. Dipped her low, brought her back-up, and turned again. She was laughing when she turned into his arms and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"That, Angad, was excellent." All smiles and grins, she kissed both his cheeks. "Did you take dancing lessons?"
He laughed. "I didn't have the time or the money for that. But, it came to me naturally." He rubbed his thumb over her spine. "You were good."
She lifted her chin an inch higher. "I am good, yes. I've three Oscars on my shelve." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. She turned her face to his neck. "Thank you."
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her as well. "Anytime."

Kripa groaned when the alarm shrieked. Kripa rolled towards the other side of the bed, satisfied to find it empty she pulled the pillow over her head. After week of oversleeping, she was in no mood to get up and start working again. She hadn't taken up any new projects; after all she was a new bride. When someone finally turned the alarm off, Kripa sighed in content and began to curl into sleep again.
Then she was cursing and sitting up in bed, scowling at Angad. "What the hell do you want? I was sleeping."
"Your Highness," he tossed the pillow away and watched it bounce against her face before falling into her lap. "I'm sorry to wake you so early in the morning. After all, it's merely eleven."
"Who cares?" With a happy sigh she fell back on her pillow again. "We don't start the dubbing until four." She stretched in her cotton shirt and tiny silk boxer shorts.
Angad shook his head. Nope, the woman has no modesty. "Don't you get tired of sleeping for so long?"
"No." She rolled out of bed and checked her phone for messages first. "Why don't you take me out to lunch?"
"It's not lunch time yet." He looked at the bed for a few seconds before he decided to make it. "I have a lunch meeting anyways and I don't have time to take you to lunch."
With a frown, Kripa turned with a towel in her hand and watched her husband make the bed. She giggled, if her mother found out Angad was making the bed, Kripa would have got to hear a nice long lecture.
But he was making the bed and it was so completely sweet of him. "Why don't you have people cleaning for you, Angad?"
"Because I like to do my things myself." He set the pillows on the bed and the turned to look at her. "Laura cleans when she comes in. She used come everyday and help Sonya, after that I just told her not to come everyday. She comes when she feels like it now. Anyways." He shrugged and turned. He wasn't used to discussing Sonya, even if it was for a second, or just the mention of her name. "Have fun on the dubbing."
"Angad." She had her hand on his arm before he could leave. "I have to get there at four and I want you to drop me off."
He turned and gave her an arched look. "Hooked to me already, honey?"
"You bet," she said softly and leaned over to kiss him lightly. "Have a good lunch."
"Yeah. Okay." He ruffled her hair and left her frowning behind him. After she heard the door shut downstairs, she stripped out of her current cloths in deep thought. Just what was the mystery behind Angad's first marriage and the reason? She sighed and stripped to the butt, stood in front of the mirror, giving her face a good look as she untied her hair. She wondered if Angad was awed by her.
She lifted an elegant, strong shoulder, and then let it fall. She knew he wasn't unaffected by it. Hell, she thought with a grin plastered the face, as the water ran down her; no one passed her without turning their head to give her a second look.
After debating between pants of a dress, Kripa finally chose a dress despite the chilled weather outside. Prithvi would be there, she mused as she creamed her arms with light scented body butter. Maybe she could make him jealous if Angad would stay there with her instead of just dropping her off. She could just say she didn't want to come back home in a taxi. Chuckling she shook her head and tugged the towel away from her hair. Who said he would stay the entire time, he could just say he'd come back and pick her up.
The guy was just such a sweetheart!
"And, I'm taking advantage of his niceness," she whispered. Suddenly depressed, she went and sat down on the bed, damp from the shower, a towel wrapped around her. Was she correct? Should she have even married him to begin with? She knew that even if Prithvi begged her she wasn't going to go back to him. Never. She'd rather live the rest of her life with Angad than go back to Prithvi.
She let out a long breathe when she realized where her thoughts were going. Easy, girl! She ordered herself again. Remember this is a six-month-only relationship.
Oh, but he's no nice. She sighed like a little girl and sauntered towards his picture and let out another sigh, a dreamy one this time.
She caught herself in time, took a careful step back from the picture then another. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. You're desperate; she told herself and dressed in her simple dress in pink silk.
Two hours later, Kripa stood in the centre of her room, hands fisted at her hips. She knew she was starved; there was no point in denying it to keep a diet. But, the problem for her was there was nothing in the place already cooked and she didn't want to eat her own cooked food, burned and too salty.
She could order out she mused as she heard Angad's car outside. Just a little surprised she went outside and watched him park his car. She nearly cried in joy when he waved a bag to Chinese take-out in front of her. She yelped and ran to him in her two inch heals and threw her arms around him, her stomach growling.
"I'm your slave, Angad, forever." She kissed him loudly on the mouth and snatched the bag from him. Angad chuckled as he watched her rush inside to eat. Good think he brought the food, otherwise he would have found her passed out on the floor in two hours.
She was eating, sitting on the floor, with a bottle of wine unopened already and her glass half-full of the frothy liquid. Angad stripped out of his jacket and grabbed himself a glass for the wine. It amused him when she didn't even bother to offer him. To annoy her, he grabbed the small paper carton out of her hand. "Angad."
"I thought you could cook." He lifted the chopstick to her lips. "You behave as if you haven't seen food for a few years."
She frowned, gulped down some of her wine. "You can't stay nice for too long, can you?"
"Of course I can't." He grabbed her wrist and turned the chopstick full of noodles to his mouth and fed himself. "How nice of you to think of me."
She rolled her eyes. God, he was charming! "You had a lunch date."
"It wasn't a date." He looked at her, she was beginning to play with the food now. "The recording finished earlier so I came home. Tyler called me. He was complaining that you've become irresponsible about receiving your calls, that you need an assistant."
"Get to the point, Slick." She shook her head when he offered a piece of orange chicken.
"They want to discuss the music today, with the crew only. They're postponing the dubbing. They also want to re-shoot the last scene. Prithvi doesn't like the last kiss between Aaron and you." He got his attention then.
"Then he can go to hell." She slapped her chopsticks down and got up, kicked her shoes out of the way. "He had no right to decide anything. He's only financing the damn movie, nothing more."
Angad sipped his wine, watched the pace the room. "We all know Tyler isn't really directing it, it's just as way to get his name out there. Prithvi wasn't willing to take the risk and invest so much money into a project of a director who hasn't directed anything before."
Kripa looked at him then. He looked so much at home. The go-to-hell attitude was something she never understood in him. He never seemed worried about much. "Why would you care how I feel when Prithvi is around?"
He looked up at her and she watched temper, fury to be more critical, flash in his eyes. Then his face was uniformed to the same go-to-hell look again. "Of course." He brushed his hands on his jeans. "I don't give a damn about what you have to go through around Prithvi or anyone else." Because he knew she was done he began to clear the floor. She watched him, how coolly he handled himself. No, he didn't care. "Now you can go to the location alone or you can go to hell, I don't care. Have fun fighting Prithvi alone." He placed the glasses in the sink. Then turned to face her. "In fact you should just go back to him and say sorry. I'm sure he'd forgive you. I mean, I'm sure you're done using me by now anyways. He was jealous enough the other night. We can finish this play of ours before the first act is over."
Kripa was too shocked to do anything but stare at him. She felt her breath backing-up in her lungs. "I'm sorry I used you, Angad." Her voice hitched and she pressed a fist to her mouth. She never minded fighting with him, annoying him, hell she'd thought being friendly would be fun. But, she'd never wanted to hurt him.
He'd hurt her more than anyone else ever had. She'd never let anyone, she admitted. How could he have the power to hurt her, she wondered. "I'm sorry," she said again. "Excuse me." She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry because of him.
Angad slammed his hand on the counter and then braced his hands on the tile. He hadn't meant to hurt her. But, she'd done it first. He cared about her.
Okay, he'd just say sorry, make her laugh and then take her to the studio. He grabbed the red rose from the piles of many more in the glass vase and walked towards their room. She was racing down, her keys and wallet in her hand.
"Kripa." Her eyes were clear he noticed, no sign of tears. Thank God. Female tears always made him weak and feel useless. Then she was shoving him away and the door was slamming. "Well." He looked at the rose in his hand. "I'll just have to say sorry a different way." Then he noticed her shoes and grinned.
No one was going to make her cry again. She'd cried over that idiot Prithvi once, not again. Never on a man again, never because of one again. She punched the gas and turned into the studio, parked the car beside Prithvi's. Of course, had she noticed she would have parked it almost a mile away from his.
She took a deep breath. Then flipped her compact open and added fake colour to her cheeks. No one needed to know that she had just fought with the man who she thought cared for her, who she'd married hoping he'd help her with her problems.
No Kripa. Her breath hitched again. He was correct. You married him to use him. Didn't you want to go back to Prithvi once?
Exasperated, she rested her head on the wheel. Taking one long deep breathe, she opened the door. She began to step out and then looked at her bare foot. Shocked, she looked at the other one. "Oh, God." She set her jaw. "Angad Khanna, you are dead meat." She set her head against the seat and closed her eyes. What was she going to do about this problem?
"Ms. Kapoor." She jerked and looked at the boy.
"Yes."
"There was a delivery for you. I was asked to deliver the box as soon as possible." He was no more than seventeen, and was finding it very hard to keep his tongue in his mouth.
"Yes. Thanks." She took the box, closed the door of her car. "Oh, please God. Shoes." She opened the box and gapped at her pretty pink shoes to match her dress. She grabbed the small card, opened it.

One makes foolish mistakes when angry or hurt. I was both?. Angad

She nearly threw the shoes out and then made herself stop. She'd beat him with them later. For the moment, she slipped them on and with dignity got out of her car. Hips swaying, she walked to the entrance of the studio.
Angad sighed and studied her from his car window. Whatever the case, she was one beautiful woman. And, he couldn't help but look at those extra long legs. So perfectly toned. And, she was graceful even as she did something as simple as walk. Great face, excellent body, tremendous legs. A vulnerable, but strong and sweet heart. Maybe it was time he began dating again. Just something fun and flirty. And, who could be a better candidate than his wife?
First he had to make sure she didn't stay angry for too long. He grabbed his phone, punched in a number. "Hi, yes. Can I get the number to the closest flower shop to Bose Studios? Yes." He opened the dashboard and found a pen, wrote down the number and address. "Thank you so much."
He found Nikki's number. "Hi. Nikki, it's Angad. Yeah. Fine." He made small talk for a few minutes, asked about the kids, Raj. Said something about how annoying Kripa was. He missed having
a family. And, then he got to the point. Moments later, he put the phone down all grins.
Kripa fixed a pleasant smile on her face before she opened the doors to the room. "Ah, there you are." Aaron stood-up and kissed her, made her sit down beside him before Prithvi could do as much as blink an eyed. "What took you so long?"
"I was fighting with my husband." She helped herself with the cup of coffee Aaron gave her.
He grinned. "First one?"
She thought about it for a moment. "Yeah." Then frowned. She only wished she could forget about the things he had said. "Yeah," she repeated.
Prithvi cocked a brow, amused she was so affected by a fight with Angad. Her husband. He resisted shaking his head and simply listened.
"Did you guys make it up?" Tyler asked, totally interested. "Last time I fought with my wife I made her dinner and then seduced her to bed. She was all smiles." Tyler grinned at her, waiting for some information.
Well too bad he had already cooked her dinner. And, worse he couldn't seduce her. I could, she mused. After all, he'd said she had hurt him as well. She jolted, nearly spilled the coffee over her dress when she realized what she had been thinking. Oh, hell. She nearly laughed. I'm only lusting his body, she assured herself.
Aaron leaned forwards. "Want some tips on seducing men?"
She turned to look at him, amused. He wiggled his eyes brows and made her laugh. Too happy to be depressed, she leaned forward and kissed him. "I think we should get started." She stabbed a look at Prithvi. "I heard something about re-shooting the last scene. Mr. Bose here didn't like the kiss between Aaron and I."
"Yes. I didn't like it. It didn't sizzle in the air." He shrugged, dumped sugar in his coffee.
"It was meant to be a gentle kiss. A lovers kiss to the woman he just asked to marry. It wasn't meant to be a air sizzling, they-are-going-to-rip-the-cloths-off-of-each-other kiss. We had the rip-her-cloths-off kiss already. So there's no point in changing it. In fact, both Aaron and I refuse to re-do the kiss. Right Aaron?"
He sighed. "Yes. I can agree with her here." He looked at Tyler. "It think the entire film is perfect. It has been edited, we need to dub and then watch it. And, of course decide who is going to do the C.D."
"I thought Angad was." And, she regretted the moment that came out. "Of course I think that we could find someone better."
Tyler laughed. "He is. Once we've dubbed, we can start the score. Release that before the movie. Give it a nice promotion."
Kripa only smiled. She wasn't sure if it would be wise to open her mouth again. The knock on the door had them all turning to look at it.
"Come in." All Kripa saw was the big bouquet of pink roses. "Wow." She tried not to sigh. "For who?"
"For you." Angad tilted his head from behind the flowers and grinned at Kripa. "You like pink roses."
Prithvi frowned. Hadn't she liked the red ones? Or was it the yellow ones? No, it had to be the white ones.
Kripa glanced at Prithvi and then did sigh. "Oh, Angad." She got up and leaned into the flowers, took a deep sniff. "They are beautiful." She set them aside and then wrapping her arms around him kissed him. "I'm sorry I fought with you." She rolled her eyes at the door, leaned against his ear. "I'll tell you how sorry once we get home."
"Of course." Because he knew it would annoy her, he gave her butt a friendly pat. Watch Prithvi's face sink more. Yup, definitely using me, Angad thought. "We should sit down and discuss the music since I'm here. Tyler singed me yesterday," he explained. He sat down on Kripa's chair. Then noticed it was the last one. "Too, bad honey. You'll just have to sit in my lap." He pulled her down, wrapped his arms tight around her when she would have pulled away. And knew he was going to die once they got home.

Angad Khanna should have been thankful that Kripa had her own car. Or maybe Kripa should have been thankful that she wasn't in the same car as Angad. Because either way Angad Khanna was going to die the next time she saw him. And, if she saw him and killed him she would end-up in jail. So an a result, she was glad they were driving home separately. She just hoped she could control her wild emotions once she got home.
She looked into her rear view mirror to find Angad's car. It was right behind hers, and he was smoking in it. Kripa grimaced, how could he smoke while driving? The man was just eager to die. Feeling desperate, she ran a unsteady hand through her hair.
He couldn't have meant the things he had told her, she assured herself and slowed down. He was just angry after she'd said such a stupid thing to him. Of course he cared about her. He wouldn't have married her, he wouldn't have supported her at Tyler's home the other night. He wouldn't have brought her those lovely pink roses. Her favourite.
Felling a little better, Kripa turned into the driveway of her home and stopped the car. He wasn't there yet, it gave her enough time to calm down. She smiled at the roses sitting beside her and gathered them in her arms.
The phone was already ringing when she came inside. She dropped the flowers on the table and went to get the phone.
"Khanna Resident." She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder and went to find a vase in the sitting room.
"Hi. Can I talk to Angad please?"
"I'm sorry. He's not here." She tossed out the old yellow roses from the tall vase and took down stairs. "Can I help you with something?"
"No. He promised to have dinner with me." Kripa's eyes sharpened. "Just remind him when he gets here."
"I see." She carefully arranged the fifteen of the roses in the vase. "Can I have your name?"
"He'll know who. Thanks. Are you Kripa?"
"Yes. His wife." She added, almost haughtily. "I'll let him know his date is waiting for him." She disconnected before the lady could say another word. When the door opened behind her, she reeled and chucked the phone, aiming for Angad's face, but managed it against his shoulder.
"Damn it!" She flung her shoe, he caught it. "Kripa, what's wrong?"
"Your date just called." She threw the other shoe, watched him catch it. She wanted to cry all over again.
"Oh, shit! I was supposed to meet Amanda. Damn it, I'm late."
"Oh, no." She picked up the vase, then set it down on the table with a thump. Why waste such a pretty thing on such a useless man? She walked to him, grabbed his shirtfront and pulled him forward. "I don't care what you think of me, Angad, but as long as I'm wearing your ring on my finger you stay faithful." She looked at him, temper racing in her eyes with just a hint of hurt. She loosened her grip on his shirt when she saw the blank, leave-me look in his eyes. She took a step back. "I'm sorry." She left the roses and vase on the table and ran.
Angad just shook his head and picked up the phone from the floor, rubbed a hand to his lightly throbbing shoulder, and then picked-up the vase full of flower to put water into it.
Kripa pushed open the door of her bedroom and stood on the other side of the threshold and just gawked at the room. It was full of pink roses everywhere. She made a strangled sound and stepped inside. The fire was glowing under the mantle and the place looked so romantic.
Kripa took a deep breath and picked up the card and box on the table. She opened the card first, it had a small teddy bear on it holding a heart shaped pillow, which said sorry on it.
I will not be charmed.
She looked at the wrapped box, decided she wasn't going to open it. She tugged down the zipped of her dress and changed into pyjama's, silk ones, and a fitted shirt. And, found herself sitting on the bed again. Defeated, she slowly untied the bow and carefully took the wrapping paper apart. She nearly smiled when she saw the white leather box with the word Tiffany written on top of it.
God, I think I'm falling in love.
Lust! Who fell in love because of roses and jewellery?
No one had given her jewellery before as a gift. Her parents didn't count.
She flipped open the box and sighed in shock this time. He'd gotten her a bracelet in her birthstone. There were ten turquoise stones around the white gold bracelet. It was so beautiful, so slim. She picked it up carefully and just looked at it.
So what? She put it back. He was still seeing someone else while he was married to her.
Exhausted, she shook her head. How did she know that Amanda wasn't just a friend or a client. She took the bracelet and put it around her wrist.
He was in the kitchen cooking. "What about your date?" And, he'd stripped out of his shirt. A towel was hanging form the waistband of his jeans.
He looked at her. Tried not touch his shoulder. "It wasn't a date. Amanda is Laura's daughter, married and very pregnant. She wanted a favour from me, so I was going to see her." He poured the sauce in the skillet.
Kripa wanted to go dig-up a hole and never come out of it again.
"Nevertheless, it's good to know you care." He poured himself apple cider. "Want some?"
"Angad." She walked to him. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Did you like the bracelet?" He took her hand, looked at it. "I knew it would do. It looks good against your skin."
"Angad." She framed his face. "I was impossible rude with you. It's just my temper took the better of me and I didn't realize I was being so imprudent Such an? an?."
"Imbecile?" He provided and watched her eyes narrow in temper again. "You're a gem," he said and kissed her forehead. "You're lovely." And her drew her against him, kissed her hair. "And the tallest woman I've ever embraced."
She laughed and blinked back tears. "I'm sorry again."
"It's okay." He sighed and brushed her hair away. "I'm sure you want to have dinner now."
She turned her face into his chest. "Just hold on another minute." He smelled of spices, cologne, with the faintest hint of sweat. And, God the mixture was seductive. She drew away. "How did you know I love pink roses?"
He smiled, thanked Nikki for knowing his sister. "I have my sources. Oh, by the way Nikki called me in the car, you weren't picking up your phone. She's holding a barbeque first Saturday in December." He absently rubbed his shoulder.
"Oh, Angad. Oh, honey." She was pushing his hand away and looking at the bruise. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." She grabbed ice from the bucket and pressed it against his shoulder.
"Kripa, it's fine." Absurdly touched, he moved away. "It'll go away. It's very faint. I wasn't wearing anything but a shirt, so it hit harder."
"It's going to hurt more tomorrow." She sighed and looked at the ice-cube in her hand, tossed it into the sick, and grabbed another to crunch on. "Put more ice on it." She leaned over and kissed his shoulder, rubbed her cheek against it before hugging him again, feeling totally guilty.
His stomach twisted when she touched his shoulder with her lips, her breath and lips cool from the ice. Damn the woman was touchy. "Okay, sure. Go sit, I'll lay the dinner."
She chuckled. "You sound like my mother did before dinner. You just have a sexier body." She winked at his bland look. "I'll set the table, bring the dinner out." She closed a cabinet with a sexy swing of her hips and sent Angad on a trip to hell, with a throat more dry than a desert. Annoyed, he picked up his glass to gulp. Upon finding it empty, he found the bottle of apple cider, and chugged right out of it.
He turned to the stove while she carried the plates out side and rubbed a hand over his stomach. Angad Khanna, he thought, you're going to be in deep trouble if you don't hold your horses.
And your heart.
But he was more content in knowing he was just desperate since he hadn't been with a woman in so long. He was happier knowing he was lusting and not loving for the second time.

The day was too sunny and warm to be a December afternoon after a rainy night. The sky was clear, the birds were chirping excitedly. All the anxious children who'd stayed in all day yesterday were all running around wild, chasing balls and their siblings.

In the end of the lane, Kripa Khanna was busy playing with her three nieces and nephews. She had spent a long morning dubbing the first half of her movie, and now she was ready to stuff herself senseless. Tomorrow, she would have to work it off senseless.

She tossed her two year old nephew in the air and caught him. Huffed. "Boy, you get heavier by the second."

"Again!" Two year old Aman clapped his hands and waited to be tossed and caught again.

Kripa let out a long breath. "Sorry, handsome. I don't have the strength." She shifted him against her hip. Giggled when he wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a long, sloppy kiss. "Maybe after I eat something." She scanned the place for Angad. Where was he? She hadn't seen him in the morning. Had completely forgot to remind the night before while they were cleaning the dishes.

The memory brought a smile to her lips. She'd been married to him for a month and one week and the time they had spent together at home, in studios, in his music room, had told her a lot about him.

Angad Khanna was a decent guy, married once, honest, loyal. He rarely lost his temper, always spoke the truth, even if it was meant to hurt someone. He was sexy. But most important, or to Kripa anyways, he never fussed when she asked him to cook. In the beginning, she felt guilty to ask him to cook any meal. In the end she had worked it out. She'd promised if he did the cooking she'd do the dishes and the laundry. It worked out perfectly.

Except the part where he helped her with both

He spoke very rarely in public. If there was a point he needed to get across he did it in simple, quick words. Kripa herself always found a way to keep him talking, to make him laugh. And, she realized it felt good to know that when she had dinner Angad would be there to talk to. She yelled at him when she was upset with someone else and he listened, then just laughed at her foolishness later.

She loved it.

Now, only if she could find out where the Khanna was, she could yell at him for being late later. Too bad she just couldn't do without him anymore.

"Kripa." She looked up and watched her father walk to him, arms open wide.

"Dad." She gave Aman to Raj and ran into Veer Kapoor's arms. "I haven't seen you in forever." She reached up and kissed his cheeks. "How are you and Mom?"

"We are great." He draped an arm around his daughter. "Where's your husband?"

"My husband has a name, Dad." She turned and took his hands. He was a little over two inches taller than his daughter, with black eyes and slowly silvering hair. He couldn't be called handsome, but he had striking looks that attracted at first sight. Broad shoulders that helped him as a fire fighter when he had rescued her mother. That was how they had first met. A thirty-two year old lawyer, widowed and a mother of a six year old Kripa and a thirty-three year old firefighter, with a daughter of his own- Nikki. Her mother had instantly fallen in love with him after being alone for nearly four years. And, Kripa had accepted him as a father before her mother had even fallen in love. Veer Kapoor had fulfilled the role of a father in her life from the moment he had rescued the two of them from the edge of the road in a horrible rode slide.

She could remember herself wailing in the backseat as the took her out. She had stretched her arms out and waited, listened and knew she had always believed. Now, almost twenty-two years later, she had an older sister, and a younger brother. And although she had both a step-sister and step-father, the family was unbreakable.

"I'm happy with, Angad."

He searched her face, her voice to catch the lie, but he couldn't. She looked happy. Defeated, he sighed and kissed her forehead. "Okay. Where is Angad?"

"Good question. I haven't got a clue. There's Mom and Dev." Kripa looked at her brother and mother walk toward them. Her mother was half of Kripa's size, which made Kripa wonder where she got her height from. But she was beautiful and Kripa admired what she had made out of her life, everything she had done for her family. In her mid-fifties now, she was a still working wife and mother, reaching heights as a lawyer, and now as a judge. Kripa knew she had disappointed her when she had decided to take acting as a profession. Nevertheless, she had accepted and supported.

Kripa opened her arms for her mother. "Your Honor is late." She winked and kissed her cheeks. "I'm so happy to see you, Mama."

"So am I, honey." Kajal Kapoor looked at her daughter with her light brown eyes. "You've lost weight again." Those sharp eyes narrowed. "And, I didn't even see any tabloids about you being fat recently. So what's the reason?"

"I was surviving on yogurt and I've been working out everyday." Then she smoothed out her silk shirt against her stomach. "I've really lost weight?" she asked, almost proud.

"Honey, you look ugly. Hideous even"

It was Kripa's turn to narrow her eyes. "Thanks, Mama." She wrapped her arms around her neck and sighed. "I missed you."

"Are you happy, honey? I mean you and Angad? You guys got married, there was no love."

No wonder her mother had found Veer Kapoor. Kripa chuckled privately. "I'm very happy, mother. How is your court life?"

"Good. I just announced another death penalty a few days ago. Where is Angad? He didn't even show-up when Nikki delivered."

"Mom!" She shook her mother. "We're happy and fine."

"Are you? Yes or no, have you shared a physical relationship with him?" She lifted a long, elegant finger. "The witness is required to answer the question yes or no."

"No." She folded her arms at her waist. "So what? It's my choice if I decide not to have sex with my husband."

"Yes it is. Are you in love with him?"

Kripa waited a second. "No. But, I lust him." Kripa picked an olive with cheese and nibbled and watched her mother's shocked expression. Then watched her mother scowl at her. "Mom, please. I don't ask you how often you and dad-"

"Kripa!" Kajal's voice was sharp with shock. "My God, you don't even try to be blunt. I wish you'd become a lawyer so we're not beating around the bush for hours in the court room." She helped herself with a martini and stripped out of her lovely pink coat. She was wearing a silk shirt under it like Kripa's, with buttons made of soft pearls, and a pink skirt that skimmed her knees. Kripa didn't know anyone who could carry themselves with such elegance. "Anyways. Because you asked, you're father can't keep his hands off of me." She winked. "Nikki, darling," she was calling her daughter and walking away. "I would like to see my little granddaughter."

"Mom, get back here!" Putting her glass down she ran behind her mother. Kajal was cooing at little Priti when Kripa caught-up with her. "Mom, you were telling me something."

"Was I honey? Why don't you get me a nice, cool drink first and find out where your husband is. I'd love to meet him. I barley know the boy. Here's Veer." She held out one hand for her husband and lifted her face to let him kiss her.

Kripa felt every naughty comment drain from her head, when she saw the way her father looked at her mother, they way she looked back. There was love here, and unsaid love, an unsaid understanding. She envied it and accepted it for the first time. And, she wished she was able to share that with someone. Wasn't she supposed to share that with Prithvi?

She looked at her parents again, as they sat together and fussing over their granddaughter, the looked happy.

"Kripa." She whirled and saw Angad grinning at her from across the yard. She felt something twist in her heart and made her run across the grass and throw her arms around him. And, she believed for the first time she was meant to share her life with him. Her mother, who seemed like the most modern person on the outside, had once told her that whatever happens, it happens for the best. Now, as she turned her face into his neck and breathed him in, she believed that Prithvi had left here at the alter for Angad. Deep down, she actually believed that he was meant for her after all.

"Are you alright?" He drew her away. Her eyes were wet. "Okay, alright." Already panicking, he pulled her to the nearest chair and shoved a drink in her hand. "Drink and don't you dare drop a single tear. Damn woman cries about everything." He tucked her hair behind her ear while she sipped her water.

From her seat, Veer and Kajal watched everything with a curious eyes.

"Now tell me what's wrong?" He narrowed his eyes and looked into hers. "I'm dead serious Kripa. If you cry I'm going to toss you into the swimming pool." Because she needed it he pressed his lips against her forehead. "Why are you crying, sweetheart? Did someone say something to you?"

"No." Sulking, she leaned back into the chair, before standing up. "Angad."

"Hmm?" He began walking with her, looking around she saw Nikki with her two children. Raj and Kripa's brother Dev at the grill. He smiled when he saw Kripa's mother kneeling on the floor with Aman playing with her. Just the sight brought a pang to his heart as he tried to remember the mother he had lost as a ten year old boy. The baby he'd lost almost five years ago.

Kripa looked at him and saw the way he looked at her mother. Absently, she slipped her arm through his, leaned her head against his shoulder. "Am I ugly?"

His sense snapped back and he whipped his eyes to Kripa's face. "Are you kidding me? You're one of the sexiest women I know. I could gobble you up in one large bite." To prove it, he leaned down closed his teeth lightly over her jaw and made her laugh. "Somebody tell you you're ugly?"

She thought of her mother and grinned. "Nah. Am I mean?"

Playing along, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her closer. "No, babe. You're not. But, you can get nasty when you really want to."

"Is it a bad thing that I can't cook?"

He cocked an eyebrow, tipped her face up to look at her. "You said you knew how to cook. You made breakfast that morning."

"Flipping a few eggs doesn't mean one can cook. A baby can do that. I'm trying to figure out what made Prithvi ditch me at the alter."

That stopped him dead. "Then why don't you go ask him instead of asking me. I don't even understand why you care. Isn't it enough that he did?"

"Jeez, I'm sorry. You basically you're saying that you'd never ditch me if you were in love with me?"

The idea made his stomach and heart churn. Defeated, Angad shook his head and sighed. "I guess not. I mean you're entertaining to be around. Now stop sulking."

"Why are you late?" Her voice changed to demanding and had him just staring at her. "You were supposed to be here almost three hours ago."

"Yes, I know. I was caught-up in a recording." He saw her lips quirk. "I'm sorry, honey, I guess I better make it up to you for being late."
"You better," She lifted her mouth for his and kissed him. She nipped very lightly at his lower lip and soothed the light pain with a flicker of her tongue. "Just to let you know, Angad, I'm over Prithvi."

"That's good." Confused, he drew her away. "That's very good, Kripa. Why don't you introduce me to your family since I haven't met them formally."

Just as confused as him, she nodded. "Give me a minute." He walked ahead of her and she touched her fingers to her lips. They were still vibrating. Oh, yes, she though, she might have gotten over Prithvi. But, she knew she was falling in love with Angad fast.

She fixed a smile on her lips and matched his steps. He looked at her when she slipped her arms around his waist. "Why don't we start with my parents?"

Angad Khanna had met her entire family and even though everyone had instantly loved him, Angad had hesitated and stayed back. Kripa knew that he was purposely trying not to get attached. She also knew that he was doing the same with her. He stayed away, tried not to connect with her emotionally. Yet he understood her. He knew when she needed attention or when she needed to fight with someone to vent out her frustration. He knew when she needed his compassion and when she needed the passion.

In a month and a half of their marriage she had learned a lot about him. He never took a shower with hot water, even if it was freezing outside. He liked his breakfast to be the heaviest meal of the day, and he never missed it. His lunches were not usual and rarely eaten. He never missed a small snack between four and five incase he had missed his lunch. If he ate lunch it had to be before eight so he wasn't eating and dropping in bed right after each other. He worked out at least four times a week, for two hours a day.

No wonder the man was so damn fit, he was so punctual about his habits. And, they were excellent. Except the fact he smoked like a manic. A half a pack a day. Kripa was just a little scared that he was going to die before time.

He had other small habits too. He liked to sleep with the windows open, like she did. He didn't move once he was sleep. If he slept on the right side of the bed, he stayed on the right side the entire night. And, he didn't need an alarm clock to wake him up. Always, Kripa couldn't remember one day, when he was still sleeping and she woke-up before him. He liked to cook breakfast himself, unless Laura was there. To Kripa's delight and awe, he always made sure she ate before leaving for work.

So often, he made her feel guilty. She had lived with her parents until she had turned eighteen years and seven months. In all the years she had watched her mother make her father's breakfast before leaving for work, and waking up before him. She always cared for him and her family. Somewhere Kripa wanted to do the same. She wanted to be the dutiful wife, for as long as she was with Angad, like her mother had always been and still was. There would never be a time, Kripa knew, when she could become a mother as perfect and devoted as hers. In the end, Kripa had forced herself to believe she didn't want to be a mother. She was just happy as a wife. If neither nor, she was happy as just a woman, an actress. Independent.

She was a liar.

What she was doing was building a wall around her heart so no one could reach her heart and have the power to break it again. It had taken her too long to put it back together. The wall she had already built around it was halfway done and no one was going to reach it. But every once in a while she felt Angad reach in and take down a brick. The next day she would rebuilt, Angad would find another way to take down another.

She was trying to do the impossible.

To live your entire life without love was simply impossible. Kripa knew that because Nikki said so, because her mother said so, and because Angad had said so as well. But, she believed it was easy. How couldn't you live without love when you have already spent half, or more, of your life without it. She believe that, in her conditions anyways, life was so fun, full of exciting adventures, that if you busied yourself enough you didn't need love. New people, new adventures. It was enough. And, if you were really desperate, you could find yourself a suitable male companion anywhere you went. There were too many around.

She was simply in denial.

The heartbroken Kripa Kapoor didn't want to come to terms with the fact that the wall she was building around her heart was cracked at various places and Angad's kindness poured through. And, while she was fight nature, she falling naturally in love. The fact that made her believe that it wasn't was that Angad never pressured. He never behaved possessively. He was protective, but that was just male ego. He would be protective of any woman that came to him. Enemy or friend.

He treated her more like a very close friend, a very special guest then a wife. When she walked into the bedroom in a towel, he turned away. Because she was used to it, she carelessly was able to change a shirt in front of him, but he would excuse himself. And, while she was trying her best to realize she lived with someone who was uncomfortable, she tried not to be hurt that he never touched.

She needed it. She needed him. She needed his love. She wasn't sure if she wanted his love emotionally or physically. But, she did know that his love physically would be easier to walk away with. If he ever loved her emotionally, said the three precious words she had yet to tell any man, she would walk away with a heart broken never to come together again.

No she had never said the words to any man but her father or her brother before. Not even Prithvi. When he had said I love you, she had always replied with a, "me too." Or a casual, "so do I." But never had she looked at him and said, "I love you, too Prithvi."

She was fighting to make sure she didn't say them to Angad without even knowing it.

Other than that, Prithvi never seemed to be in her and Angad's way like she had always wanted him to be. When they were together on the set working on the music, re-shooting things to adjust with the music, he never seemed to bothered. He would smile at her or him and then move on. While she thought he didn't care, Angad saw something in his eyes Kripa either ignored or just didn't see. Angad knew it was love. And, he wondered again and again why Prithvi had taken off to France on the day of his marriage if he really loved Kripa Angad also wondered why he never bothered to interfere in their life if he loved her.

Angad wasn't sure if he wanted to find out.

Angad had finally finished the last track of the C.D. and they were going to change the last scene to a ballroom scene and use the song. The idea had been Kripa's, and for just a second Angad had felt like she had taken a peak into his brain.

They seemed to get along well once they put their mind to it, Angad mused as Kripa sat beside him with Tyler rambling on about re-shooting the last scene. And, he seemed to enjoy his company. She was a smart lady, he knew that, but she acted silly around him made him smile at the most unexpected moments. One moment she would be dubbing with such sorrow in her voice, her eyes, it even left his heart twisted. In the next she would be running around like a kid throwing tantrums. And, she forgot things all the time. Her designers and producers were calling her all the time reminding her she was late. It amused Angad that she so simply just grinned and said sorry and moved on. But when her temper struck? well everyone knew her temper was the worst thing to face.

When Kripa looked at him, he was smiling foolishly. She lifted an eyebrow and caught his chin in her hands and turned his face. His eyes snapped back to reality and the foolish look was wiped of his face.

"What's so funny?" She asked and leaned over to kiss his currently straight lips. The gesture never failed to rock Angad's heart. It wasn't that he was the only person she kissed like that. Everyone she saw was greeted in the same way. A light brush of lips and a smile. He'd seen her kiss her father like that, her brother, her mother, Aaron, Tyler, so many co-stars, so many people. But, when she let those lips brush over his, his heart kicked like a stallion in his chest.

"Nothing." He leaned back in his chair and lit a slim brown cigar. "I was just? thinking."

"Yes you were, honey. And, I asked what you were thinking about." She wished she could just snatch that stupid cigar out of his mouth. But, he looked so damn arrogant, and sexy, with that slim thing clamped in his mouth. Plus, how did she know he wasn't going to mind if she did snatch it out of her mouth?

"Wrong." He tapped his finger in his nose and made her smile. "You asked what was so funny." He strode away to find an ashtray and Kripa went behind him. Tyler sat in his chair with a grin on his face. They were so damn adorable together. While he exchanged all knowing looks with Aaron sitting beside him, Prithvi thrust his hands in his pockets and frowned.

"Angad." She slammed into his back and blew her hair out her eyes. "Can I say something?"

He grinned at her. It was the cockiest grin he'd ever given her. "Honey," he said mimicking her, "you won't keep that pretty mouth of yours shut even if I said no." He tapped his cigarette into the ashtray. Kripa grimaced. It was such a beautiful piece; hand carved in such beautiful designs in pure crystal, and it was used to tap out ashes.

"Can't you stop smoking?" She watched his eyes narrow and continued quickly. "It's just unhealthy Angad. You can't even imagine how many people die because of it every year."

He bit the inside of his cheek. She was so lovely. "Right. Thanks for worrying." To her amusement, he crushed the cigarette out.

When he turned back to her she was standing there with a piece of gum and a lovely simple on he face. He chuckled, shook his head and slipped the gum from her fingers. After popping it into his mouth, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Thank you," he said, almost absently, and walked away to review the music again with Aaron and Tyler into the other room.

Kripa linked her hands together and smiled. It took her all her will power to keep her hands to herself and not reach out to touch her forehead. All his simple, absent, almost mindless gestures made her love him more. Unwillingly. Unknowingly.

"Kripa."

She stiffened and her fingers pressed together tighter. It was perhaps the first time she was going to talk to him alone. Taking a deep calming breathe she turned around to face Prithvi. He stood there, his hands still in the pockets of dark jeans. He wore a shirt she had brought for him; it clogged tears in her throat. She wanted to say something but she knew if she spoke now her voice would squeak.

She thought she had forgotten him. But now, as he took another step towards her and she struggled not to take one back, she realized that the wound he had given her was so much deeper than she had allowed herself to think it was.

When she was sure she could speak, she did. "Prithvi." Too keep herself busy, she brushed past him and went to pick up the file on the desk behind them. "Did you need something?"

"No. Yes. I just?" he trailed off, waited until she turned to look at him again. "I wanted to explain for my rash behavior the day we were going to get married."

"I don't need or want one, Prithvi. If that's all you can leave." She began to turn around again but stopped, stiffened, when he clamped his fingers around her arm and spun her around. "Prithvi, I dismissed you." Her voice was ice cold, her eyes excellently disguised from anything she was feeling at the moment. He stared into them, so beautiful he thought almost absently, until the blank look turned into fury and impatience. He was waiting for the hurt look, the desperate one even.

"I need to explain."

She grabbed his hand, pushed it away from her arm. "I said it doesn't matter." She began to move and this time he caught her by the waist and pushed her against the wall.

Before Kripa could try to even react and defend herself, he had her pinned to the wall, his hands caging her, his body pressed into hers. "It matters, Kripa. I love you."

It did nothing to her. There was no knotting of the stomach. Her heart suddenly didn't beat outrageously in her breast. She stood their calmly, staring back into his eyes as he did the same.

But somewhere really deep the words still brought pain and the feeling of betrayal. She wasn't sure if those would ever go away.

"So?" She lifted her hands to his chest to push him away and realized her hands were actually trembling. "Prithvi." With the first lick of fear fresh in her stomach, her heart did begin to thud. Her voice was breathless. She couldn't understand what the man was going to do to her. And, she wished desperately that Angad was come in.

Her throat was desert dry, yet she spoke. "Prithvi, please just let me go. I haven't done anything to hurt you."

"Haven't you?" He pushed her shoulders back when she tried to slip away. "You couldn't wait for me, Kripa?"

The fear evaporated and the anger snapped like a twig. "Prithvi." The one word came out of her clenched teeth. "If you don't leave me, I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Oh, yeah?" His fingers tightened on her shoulder. "Come on, Kripa." His voice was mocking, teasing. "You know you love me."

Her hands were steady now, she curled them into his shirt and pushed him away. Caught him closer. "Prithvi. I don't love you. I don't think I ever loved you. If I did I would have never stopped you from making love with me the day you asked me to marry you. I never wanted a physical relationship between us. And, if we would have it would have never been love between us. It would have been sex. You know that. I know you can look at me right now and know that I'm not saying that to make you angry. I never loved you and I never realized that until I married Angad." His eyes were so hurt it tore at her heart so unexpectedly. "Let me go now."

Prithvi's eyes heated so quickly it left her shocked. "Oh, yeah? Well since it doesn't seem like it matters to you. So why don't we just take that roll in the sheet? We'll both be-"

Angad's violent shove cut him off. Kripa watched Angad raise a fist and smash it against Prithvi's jaw. Her mouth fell open as she watched Prithvi raise his hand. She couldn't stop the smile when Prithvi's punch was blocked with Angad's hand. Her heart sighed and swelled.

Angad pushed him against the table and without looking back rushed to Kripa. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" His hands were moving frantically over her as if checking for broken bones. She tried not to laugh to see him so frantic.

"Why aren't you speaking, damn it? Are you okay? Kripa." He shook her and watched her eye fill with tears. "Don't cry." He snapped the words and heard her giggle through the tears. His hands had gentled and they were holding her lightly at her waist.

Before she could speak, he was pushed away from her. It happened so quickly, Kripa was left shocked. She watched Prithvi punch his stomach and then his face.

"Prithvi!" Even as she shoved him away to get to Angad, he was grabbing Prithvi again. Kripa gasped when she heard the bone in Prithvi's nose crack, followed by the one in his jaw.

"Angad!" She shirked and watched Prithvi fall on the floor, bleeding. "Oh, God." She kneeled down in front of Angad even as Prithvi groaned in pain. "You are bleeding, Angad. Oh, God."

He touched his lip, and looked at the blood on his hand. "Damn it."

Kripa shoved his hand away as he reached to touch his face again. "Don't touch your face." Huffing a breathe, she looked at Prithvi. And felt sorry for him. "Okay. God! Aaron! Tyler!"

Ten minutes later while a nurse and a doctor worked to clean-up Prithvi before taking him to the hospital, Kripa had Angad sitting on the table while she fixed his face. Her hands wanted to shiver, but she kept them steady.

"It's going to sting." She didn't want to look at his face, so he kept her eyes fixed at the bruise near his lip. "You're a fool. You didn't have to hit him." She forced herself to look up at him. Just as quickly, she looked back at his lip. He hissed when she pressed the cotton dabbed in iodine at the cut. "Sorry." She cleaned it carefully as her stomach continued to churn. She bandaged the cut and then leaned over and pressed her lips to the black-and-blue bruise on his forehead. Let out a long, long sigh.

As the paramedics helped Prithvi out he watched them, his stomach churning.

"I'm okay." Angad said when she finally looked at him for more than five seconds. "The kiss made it better." He tapped his forehead. When she smiled, he tapped his lips. "It still hurts here."

She managed a laugh. "Don't push your luck." And, leaned over to kiss him. "Oh, Angad." She rained kisses over his face. "You're so stupid. You shouldn't have hit him. They're going to be all over you. The press." She groaned.

"Well, Your Highness, right now you're all over me." He caught her into his arms when she began to back away. "I'm perfect." It was his turn now. He kissed her hair, her forehead. When she shuddered against him, swallowed a sob, he sighed. "Okay, fine." He lifted her face to his and kissed her. He forced her lips apart, danced his tongue over hers lightly, coaxing until the shuddering stopped. He tasted her tears on her lips and pressed her closer to him. And, took her deeper without knowing.

It was like a whirlpool of emotions, Kripa thought as she stepped between his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. She knew he kissed her to take her mind off of the fight. But, as she responded and moaned against his mouth, she knew the kiss meant different things to her than it did to him. She let her thoughts skin away and gave her everything in the kiss.

Her mouth went wild against his. Her groans and moans breathy. Her skin hot. Everything in her shifted and changed. She could feel the kiss moving from gentle to passionate. From passionate to completely wild. She felt him, and herself, fight for control.

His hands were kneading gently at her shoulders, moving down to her back, over her hips, bringing her closer there again until they molded as one.

She shuddered again, and this time it was out of pleasure and anticipation than in fear. She loosened his arms around his neck as one thought rang into her mind. No one had touched her like this, kissed her life this. Made her feel like this. Such passion had never erupted inside her as it did now when Angad's hands finally, finally, tugged her silk shirt out of her light pink slacks and slipped under to touch.

She was softer, smoother, silkier than the silk she wore. His shifted his mouth and changed the angle of the kiss. Very slowly his hands slid over her back then down again, skimming her stomach lightly.

Then his hands were in her hair, pulling the band out that was keeping her hair back in a tick tail behind her head.

She groaned as he closed his hands in her hair. Suddenly ruthless, he tore his mouth away from hers and tugged her head back from her hair to brand her throat with his lips.

She gasped, her skin heated until she felt like she was being pushed into a furnace. Her hands in his hair she shoved him away and ran from the room, and ran fast until she was locked in her dressing room. She locked the door and slid down against the door to the floor, her arms around her knees. Her lips were vibrating from his still, her heart was thudding with such strong pangs of love she couldn't understand when it all happened. She had all but heard that wall around her heart fall and crumbled when his hands had touched.

She pressed her lips to her knee to stop the vibrating. She rubbed them to force the taste to wash away. But it wouldn't and she still felt as if his lips were over hers. Coaxing one second, demanding ruthlessly the next.

She carried her limp, yet heavy body to the small sofa and shoved everything aside. The costumes and the papers, and slid down. She curled and forced herself to sleep. But even as she slept she felt him against him, hands and lips. And more. Everything. Everything, until she woke-up hours later needy and aching for the man she truly loved.

Angad's eyes were dark in anger as he lifted weight. He had locked the door of the gym, and had blasted the music loud enough so aliens in outer space could hear it. He didn't give one damn now if the neighbors came to stop it, the police, or the aliens from outer space themselves. He had had it! Fine he'd kissed her, but she had been the one to run off like he'd forced himself on her. Damn it, he'd felt her respond as widely as he had kissed her.

He let the dumbbell drop on the floor and grabbed the ice-cold water bottle. Without thinking he dumped the water over his head and swore. It was below fifty out there and he was pouring ice water on his head. He took three deep breaths because somewhere deep down he knew that if he saw Kripa today or thought about her, he was going to have to kill her. She wasn't the only one with a temper. His rarely erupted, and when it did, well it was bad.

Still cursing and mumbling he grabbed a towel and rubbed it against his soppy hair. It was growing, he mused and rubbed more. He just liked it better when it was longer. Irritated with the loud banging of the guitars in Bon Jovi's latest, Angad switched the music off and listened to the quite.

The lady hadn't spoken to him since two days now. She was too busy to talk to him, she had said when he had asked her. Too busy, my damn left foot!

He hurled the water bottle across the room and watched the mirrors crash and fall down. It felt better. God damn it! A minute later he found himself looking for something to shove against the wall. Making banging his head against the broken mirror would be better. Or getting drunk until his body was numb even.

How did he care? He didn't care, he assured himself, and whistling got out of the gym. He would just have to call and get the damn mirror wall repaired when he felt like it. It was Christmas Eve and Kripa had said, in a text message not to mention, that she was spending the two days at her parents and he was more than welcome to join. Well, he knew she was coming home to pick up her stuff first.

Home. He sat down on the stairs and rubbed a hand through his hair. Her home? She was only going to be here for four more months. And God knew he was glad she'd be gone. He wouldn't have to worry about her. What she did, who she did it with.

Great! It was Christmas Eve and he was about to spend it alone like always. But there were changes in the house this year, he realized as he look at the huge Christmas Tree in front of him. Kripa had forced him to buy it for them, she has used just that word, two weeks ago. Then, she had forced him to help her decorate it. It was nearly eighteen inches in height with so many colored ornaments on it sparking. He never bothered with Christmas Trees. The only time he had seen one where he lived was when he had lived with Prithvi and his mother had been alive. After her unexpected death in a car crash he had never been back there for Christmas. He was never going back now.

Damn it, Prithvi had been his best friend. He'd told him everything about his life. He had in fact trusted Prithvi with his life nearly ten years ago, maybe more. Her mother surely had. And, they had ended-up beating each other senseless. Gingerly, he touched his lip. It was still a little swollen and he found Kripa looking at it often, he wondered if it was the wound or the lips. It made him grin as he got up and walked towards the Christmas Tree.

There were gifts under it, load of them. He bent down and looked through them. He normally placed the ones he was going to give out in his room, this year he had put them under the tree as well next to Kripa's. He'd even bought her one. Well more than just one. But one of them were in his room. He was glad he'd kept it there because for some reason he didn't find the need to give it to her anymore.

He scanned the names. Her parents, her siblings. Friends. Nieces and nephews. He didn't see anything for him. He felt the lightest twinge of disappointment and left it pass. The only person who gave him a gift that meant anything to him was Laura. She normally came by mid-afternoon, brought him lunch because she wanted to and they exchanged a small gift.

Of course there were others. There had been Prithvi. His gifts had meant something always. There were other producers, actors, colleges. But they didn't matter. This year Laura was even gone away. She had said she wouldn't come back and that he should enjoy his first Christmas and New Year with his wife after marriage.

Well, his wife wasn't staying him. He examined the small box in his hand. She had wrapped each and everyone herself in the kitchen while he had stood there cooking. Just the thought bought memories back. Good ones.

Suddenly he realized how much he missed her. She hadn't been in the kitchen with him for dinners for the last two days. She would slip in and out, but she wouldn't help or eat. And, last night she had already been sleeping when he had came into his room. She'd been reading a silly, girly love story. He'd never though of her to be one to love romance. Well that wasn't the only thing that had surprised him recently, she was even trying to cook. Okay, so she burned everything she cooked, or it was too salty or too watery, but still. She tried and he knew how much he enjoyed watching her struggle by the stove. At least she wasn't the type who cut her hand constantly. Nor did she give-up easy.

He replaced the box under the tree and got up smiling. He turned and found Kripa staring at him. Wondering how long she had been standing there, he stuffed his hands in his sweats, shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Kripa was thankful she wasn't drooling. He looked so? hot. It wasn't the right word, she realized and tried a smile. "Hello. You've been working out, I see."

"I don't normally sweat just sitting by the tree in December. Did the dubbing go well?" Just because the shirt felt too sticky suddenly, Angad tugged it over his head and rubbed it against his sweat chest. "Are you leaving?" He asked as he started for the stairs.

"Yes. I'm just going to load the gifts in the car." She couldn't help but stare at him. And, again, she was thanking God that she wasn't drooling and that her mouth was closed, her tongue secure inside her mouth. "Will you come?"

Oh, how he wanted to. "No, I think I'll stay. Have fun."

"Angad." Impatient now, she jogged behind him in her heals and nearly fell of the stairs twice. Damn it, she was trying. The man needed to give her some credit. She hadn't been the only one to ignore him. He'd been worst. He hadn't even slept in his bed the day they'd kissed. Huffing, she walked into the room behind him and snapped the door close.

He turned, bare chest still, it was important not to notice that gleaming body of his, if Kripa wanted to think clearly. Kripa kept her hearty sigh to herself and continued to glare, her arms folded across her breasts. "We need to talk."

"Do we?" Because he knew it would annoy her to death, he stripped out of his sweats as well and walked away in boxers.

Kripa counted till ten in an effort to calm down. She only got to five before she rushed behind him again. Mid-way she took her shoes off and tossed him behind her head. They both heard something fall and crash. Angad grinned.

Fuming, she shoved open the small wooden doors of the laundry room and watched his toss his gym cloths and a few white shirts into the washer and add a generous amount of detergent to it. "The laundry is my job."

Angad snapped the lid shut and turned the water on. "You're leaving for two days. I can't wait until you come back to do the laundry, sweetheart."

"Don't you sweetheart me!" She pushed a button he forgot on the washer. Then walked behind him as he walked out. "And, why aren't you coming with me?"

"I like to be alone for Christmas." He walked into the bathroom and stripped out of his boxers as well. Amused when she waited in the room until the water was running. He didn't know why he left the door open.

Kripa walked in and paced the large bathroom. "You know Mom wants you to come." She said over the running water.

"Tell her I'm sorry. I'll buy her a nice gift later. Flowers even." He grabbed the shampoo and took his time with washing his hair.

She was tempted shove the damn window-stained glass door aside and walk into the stall fully clothed. Instead she put down the toilet cover and sat down over it. She could just say sorry and let it be over with. But, fighting with him was so much fun.

She grinned. "Are you sure you don't want to go?" She asked, wishing he'd change his mind.

"Hmmm." He rinsed himself. "Can you give me my towel?"

"Yeah." She tossed it over the stall and turned around as he walked out with the towel around his hips.

Angad frowned as pulled out a fresh pair of briefs and pulled them on under his towel before tugging it away. She was supposed to continue fight with him. He grabbed a pair of jeans at random and pulled them on, left them unhooked at the waist and walked into the room. She was closing the top of her suitcase. Disappointed she wasn't going to force him to go with her, he walked back into the bathroom to decide if he wanted to shave. He rubbed a testing hand over his cheek and decided not to. She was still quite and still playing with her suitcase when he came back to the room to comb his hair back.

Kripa turned and just looked at him. He was so much at ease, she realized he probably just wanted to stay home. "Okay. Well. Um." She was hoping at least he would turn around and give her a hug, a light kiss. Anything. She carried the small bag downstairs and shoved it into her jeep, then began loading the gifts in the back. When she was done she went to her Ford and took out his gift. She could give it to him now, even if he wasn't going to mention the gifts with her name on it under the tree.

He was looking through a file and talking on the phone. Work on Christmas Eve? God! Determined to be patient she sat down on the edge and watched him. He mumbled and smiled and frowned and laughed.

She loved him.

His jeans were still riding low on his hips, still unsnapped, and he stood so comfortably shirtless, with a few droplets water on his chest from his shower. His hair were still dripping wet. When he turned to find another file, she watched water trickle down his shoulders and back.

She lusted him.

When he turned and their eyes met for a brief second before he looked at the file again, she felt her skin go hot and her heart beat just a little faster. She wished she had the right to talk up to him and ask him to love her until she was content, until she knew that there was nothing more but them.

She wanted this Christmas with him and the next sixty. She wanted this house to be full a few years from now with children. Then year from then coming back with their families.

Oh, God. Without thinking she pressed a unsteady hand to her thundering heart. Children and grandchildren? What was she thinking? When he said his byes and wished the other person Happy Holidays, she let her hand fall and stood.

"Angad." Because she needed something she took his towel and dried his back. Her lips trembled to touch the skin there. Her arms to just hold him once.

"I'm sorry." He said it so unexpectedly she found herself turning him around with shock in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kripa. I didn't realize that my kissing you would offend you so much. Trust me I would have never done it if I knew. You were going to cry and I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Of course. And, I just stood there helpless screaming and pleading while you took advantage of me." All the love that had been swelling in her heart vanished. "You're pathetic." She grabbed his gift and shoved it into his chest. "Here's your gift. Merry Christmas."

"Oh, yeah? Well here is yours!" He opened the drawer and took out her box, shoved it into her hand. "And all the ones down stairs, take them with you." He tossed the box she had given him on the bed and watched the hurt cross her eyes. Felt instantly guilty.

Hurt, angry, miserably in love, she shoved the box into her pocket and took a step forward. Before she could stop herself of he could stop her, she had fisted her hand in his damp hair and pulled his mouth down to hers. There was nothing gentle in the kiss. She scraped her teeth over his lips, her fingers pulled at his hair and her fingers slid down to his shoulders and pressed. Not in passion but in anger.

Angad's arms stayed at his sides while she played and abused his mouth.

Then she was pushing him away and panting. "There! Now we're even. And, I'm sorry I kissed you too, Angad. Have a good Christmas and New Year. I'm not coming back until after that. And, while I know you wouldn't, don't try and find me." She turned and looked at him and then ran out barefoot.

Angad took a deep breath. And, then went to get the box he had thrown on the bed. He carefully unwrapped it and found himself looking at a box of chocolates. He opened the box and looked at the chocolates. In the center on it was a ring. He nearly choked. He lifted it out and looked at the wedding band. He tore the card from the wrapping paper.

For as long as we are married you deserve to have your own ring. Toss the one on your finger out. You deserve better. Merry Christmas? love, Kripa

Kripa stopped the car on the beach and tugged out the box from her pocket and tore it open. She was staring at a wedding band that matched the bracelet she was wearing on her wrist. She looked at the ring on her finger and lifted it to her lips. She slid Angad's ring out of her finger and slid on the wedding band on first, then over it she slid on the small diamond he had put on her when they had gotten married.

She lowered her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Her arms around the wheel she wept until her eyes were too weak to let another tear slid.

She'd only read love to be painful and had cried with the characters in her books. Now, as she felt it for herself, she realized no one could understand what it felt like to be in love and feel the pain unless they experienced it themselves. The pain, how much ever bitter still left the faintest sweet taste behind.

She fixed her make-up and then drove into the freeway and towards her parents house. She couldn't wait to get out of the country after Christmas.

When her mother opened the door Kripa grinned and embraced her.

"Where's Angad?" She asked.

Kripa smiled at her mother. "He got hung-up with some last minute work. He won't make it."

CHAPTER FOUR
New Years Eve
Angad tossed the pizza into the oven. It had been too long since he had cooked himself a greasy cheese pizza to go with some nice wine, right from the bottle. He was going to indulge himself and drink senseless.
She hadn't come back. He wanted to hate her because he had never thought she wouldn't. Obviously, he had underestimated. There had been pictures, online, in papers, magazines, T.V. of her in Greece, sun bathing on a beach in an excuse for a bikini. Her parents had even called, but she, the stubborn idiot, hadn't.
Well, I'm no less stubborn he reminded himself.
He wanted her to come back. He wanted her here to welcome the new year with him. He set the bottle of wine on the counter and leaned over to rest his head on the fridge. He'd let her go. If he really wanted, he could have just went and spent Christmas with her family, said he was sorry. And, he knew she would have forgiven him.
Five days without her had been like hell. The house felt empty without her screaming in it. It seemed too tidy when he didn't find her shoes in one place, her notes and appointments scribbled on small papers everywhere. He liked to hear her sing with him, even if she had the ugliest voice ever, while he composed. Her fiddling on the piano. Her screaming at him.
The ting of the oven had his starling. He took the pizza out and set it to cool. When he bell rung he growled and angry as a wolf went to go see who it was.
He opened the door and stared at Kripa. She'd cut her hair. It was the first thing that came to mind. It was just a few inches under her shoulders now. He wanted to tell her how lovely it look. She liked it when he noticed small things like that. Her skin looked like gold dust from the hours she might have spent on the beach.
"Kripa?" He wanted to reach out and touch just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
"Can I come in?" She glanced at his hand and found him wearing the ring she'd left behind. When he stepped aside she stepped inside. "Thanks. I'm sorry I came back unexpected." I couldn't like without you, she wanted to say. I wanted to welcome the New Year with you.
"It's fine." He walked into the kitchen and brought out the food and wine. It surprised him that she hadn't followed. "Just fine." He said. "You can damn well walk in and out when you please. The house is yours as much it is mine till we're married. So did you indulge yourself in a hot, torrid affair in Greece? You always are, it seems like."
"I don't want to fight with you, Angad. And if you really want, I'm ready to give up this marriage." Oh, and she'd been thinking of children and grandchildren. "I'll just get my stuff."
"You know what!" He followed her this time. "I'm sick and tired of having to deal with your insolent moods. I've had it." He took the cloths and threw them on the floor. "You're not going anywhere."
"Let go of me, Angad. Please. We've hurt each other enough. I can't bear it again and I can't hurt you again." She noticed the fire that was burning in the room. She could hear a composition on the piano by him playing down stairs.
"Fine!" He pushed her away and dragged his hand through his hair. He still hadn't cut it. "Just dandy."
"Yup. Just dandy."
She wasn't sure who moved first. But, they were both at it with each other. She found herself caught in his arms, his mouth hot on hers. It was crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy! She nearly went crazy with his mouth was full on hers with just the hint of tongue. It was more tormenting than she realized it was to be so far away from him for so long.
With a groan she forced his lips apart and dragged her hands into his hair. "Angad." She said his name in a whisper. Fingers racing down, she tugged at his shirt, hands slipping under and over him. Soft, smooth skin. Rippling muscle. A sheer male body. Greedy, she tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it away. It fell with a whisper with her cloths that he'd thrown on the floor just moments ago.
"No." He said the word and stopped himself and her as she reached for the snap of his jeans. "We can't do this. It's stupid, insane. It's wrong. We are wrong."
"No it's not. Tell me you don't want me, Angad." She looked into those smoky grey eyes as saw the desire so clear it made her shiver. And she knew what he needed. "Not for love." She said. "I don't love you, Angad. But, I want to be with you tonight."
He looked at her. In her high shoes, their eyes and mouths were almost lined up. "Step out of your shoes."
"What?"
"Your shoes." He took her hands and helped her. "I don't want to make love with you."
"Then you don't have to." She took his hands, pressed them against her. "I told you its not for love. Just be with me," she said and reached up to kiss him again. The kiss on her part was gentle. But, he turned the tables again.
Heat.
No, this wasn't going to be for love Kripa thought, for him. But it was going to be just to be together. It was enough.
His mouth still on hers he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. The minute they were there, Kripa rolled with him and realized he had not made the bed in the morning. The sheets tangled around them at their waist and they both struggled with them.
Then his hands were everywhere, tearing. His lips branding. She didn't mind the speed. It was still love for her. Passions were a true part of love. As was hunger and desire and need. She felt it all here with him. She didn't mind the urgency in his hands as he dragged at her cloths. She found it astonishing that he could want her so much.
But deep inside her there was panic. She'd never been here before. She didn't know what she was to expect or to give. The man with her had been married. And, she was sure he had been with more than just the lady he was married to before. He'd been here while she hadn't.
She wasn't sure if she was going to be in pain after this. Or if she was going to be simply humiliated. She knew she wanted this. And, him. It seemed to be enough.
When she came back they were rolling again, flesh to flesh.
Angad pressed his lips to her mouth again. Left her needing more and moved down to her throat. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't want to know. He couldn't think. All he could do was taste. Taste the woman who he'd wanted for so long. The woman he'd?. He dragged the thought away and tasted her again. And, he felt as if he'd waited for her his entire life.
Her assumptions weren't wrong. There had been too many one night stands in his life. He had been married. But none of it had been what was happening here. He'd been gentle with Sonya, always gentle. With Kripa while he wanted to be gentle with her, he was afraid. He knew he'd let a large part of his heart already slide. By being gentle, but showing her the love she deserved, he was going to open the gates larger and he didn't want that. He wasn't ready to give that up again. He'd promised himself his heart would be his to keep.
So he took and wasn't sure if he gave anything to her. But she moved under him. Her hands searched and soothed. She was soft like he remembered from the kiss they had shared nearly two weeks ago. Her neck was tanned as he skimmed his lips down the slender line of it. Her pulse was jumping there, unrelenting. He felt his heart give a little He pressed kissed up neck, lingered to nibble and taste. To show and to take, now. Then, he took her back down. His lips between her breasts, her skin there was smooth, milk white almost. Tearing his mouth, he slid down to her stomach. Then tracing the path back up, and drove her mad.
Kripa dragged her hands through his hair and forced his mouth to come back to hers. She quivered as he pleased her with his hands, made love to just her mouth.
She moaned, said just his name in a breathy whisper. It seemed to be the only thing she could think of now.
He lifted his face and looked down at her for the first time since they both had been pulled into the whirlwind. She looked so soft, so fragile. Her hair, although shorter now, fanned over his pillow. She closed her mouth as his mouth came back to hers. She arched and offered. He took her deeper.
A little longer, a little faster, a little deeper.
His hands skimmed over her again, cupped her again. Her eyes opened in shock when his mouth gentled on hers. It felt as if her heart was going to burst open. Her breath was backing-up in her lungs again. She thought she screamed his name, but in reality it was a whisper so soft, so low, only she heard it. Rolling to the edge faster again, she let her nails bit into his shoulders, slid down in back, and knew she would leave marks there, as he would on her.
He cursed himself again and again for not giving her the love, then intimacy she needed. He knew she wanted for sure. He was more self-aware that he wouldn't be surprised if he woke-up after this, burning in hell.
She was damp and writhing. And, she was so beautiful. He didn't have to open his eyes to see that. His hands fisted over the sheets and then he felt hers slid under both of his and link. He felt, heard his heart fall and crash.
He felt like he was hurting her. Invading her. He knew he was taking her innocence form her forever.
"Kripa." He whispered her name into her ear. "I don't love you."
She didn't sigh; her heart wept.. "I don't love you, either."
Just dandy, he thought and plunged.
Nearly ten minutes later he was still lying over her, their hands linked, legs tangled, his face buried into her hair. And, he wished, desperately, for her to say something. Anything. The woman hadn't made one noise in ten minutes. With as much dignity as he could find, he rolled off of her. It tore him apart when she went with him and her arms curved around him and her head nuzzled at his chest.
"Kripa." Hands wanting to shiver, he stroked her silk like hair. He knew he was definitely going to burn in hell for wanting her all over again already.
"Hmmm?" She rubbed her cheek over his chest and felt the light indent. When she found more energy she was going to take a look at what it was. Now, she felt like she was floating in the aftermath of love.
Oh it had been love, she knew that. Sighing, completely content, she tightened her arms around him.
"How are you?" Oh, how lame, Khanna.
"I'm prefect. I've never felt better before." She heard fireworks from far away and her lips curved. "Happy New Year."
"Hmmm. Kripa, look." He lifted her face and found her blushing. God! Leaning down he kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her for the first time. "I?"
"Don't say sorry, Angad. Please. I'm not sorry and we didn't drag each other here. We did what we did because we wanted to."
"Okay. I didn't hurt you?" He stroked with gentle hands. "Are you sure you don't want a bath or anything? I'll get you something to eat. Are you cold? The fire's dying." He loosened his arms around her to get up.
"Angad!" She laughed. He was such an expert at over-worrying. "No. I'm fine. I'm not hungry or cold. I'm definitely not hurt."
He kissed her hair again. He had been damn sure her and Prithvi had shared this before. He turned her to her back and looked down at her. The fire was playing on her face lightly, her eyes were sleepy. Leaning down he kissed them. Then her mouth, still heavy from his.
"Did I disappoint you?" She wondered out loud and made him laugh. "Seriously." She lifted his face to look at him and didn't feel awkward or humiliated. She felt fresh and in love.
"No, love." He kissed her forehead again. "You didn't. I know I should have been more gentle. Specially since you read those silly romance novels, I'm sure you had a image in your mind of how you wanted to be made love to."
"I don't know." She framed his face, finger lightly touching the side of his face. "You make me happy, Angad. I've been more happy in the last few months than I have been in a very long time." She touched his lips with her very lightly. "I hope you don't hate me for all those fights. I don't want to make you sad. I don't want to fight with you."
He sighed. "You're supposed to be weepy and teary eyed for your first time. Or trembling or in shock for the ruthlessness."
"I see." She combed his hair back, fisted her hand lightly so they wouldn't fall back against his forehead. "Well, since I didn't get all that right, we should try again. Next time I'll be teary eyed and then I'll bawl, followed by trembling in shock. You'll have to show me again, Angad, so I can get it right this time."


Much later, while she slept curled against him, Angad lay beside her, his arms around her to keep her warm, he wondered what she really felt. He wondered if she felt any of the love he did for her. Hadn't she made it clear that she just wanted to be with him. It wasn't love. Just sex. He slid out of bed and found a pair of sweats to tug on and went to add wood to the fire that was dying again. When he turned around he just watched Kripa sleep. He'd done it so many times before, just watched her sleep. Now, she slept on his side of the bed, in his shirt, her body still warm from his, he wasn't sure if he could ever let go of her. But, she knew nothing of his past, he realized as he searched for a cigarette. She knew nothing of who her husband was before he had stepped into the world of glitz and glamour.
He gave up on finding the cigarette. When she stirred he turned towards her. Her arms reached out for him and he felt his heart fill with warm love.
"Angad" She patted the bed for him and didn't find him.
"Yes, love." He slid in beside her and held her against him. She was like a child, he thought with a smile. Angry one second, content the next.
"Don't go anywhere. Okay?" She shifted and laid her head on his heart.
"Okay." He smoothed her hair out and rubbed her back. "Go to sleep."
"Hmmm. Angad."
"Yeah?" He looked down at her and she was sleeping.

?

Kripa shifted and because she was cold, she reached for Angad. The bed was empty. She tried not to frown and at the same time wondered if he had slept beside her at all the night before. Although they had shared the bed, she wasn't sure if he had wanted to share the sweet intimacy of just sleeping beside her after making love with her. She'd sensed a reserve from his last night she wish he didn't keep.
She shifted deeper under the blankets and groaned. Love? She wasn't sure what it had been for him in the end. Being gentle, and he hadn't been very gentle throughout the night, he stole a moment to for a light touch, but again, being gentle didn't mean love. It could have simply meant sympathy. And, although she had wanted to be with him, now she felt like that it had meant nothing for him. Or things so different than her. He hadn't been in bed when she had woken up in the middle of the night. He wasn't here now.
She wondered where he was.
Defeated yet determined to make the best out of everything, she rolled out of bed in that extra large t-shirt of his she had borrowed the night before. Standing in the open window she stretched out her arms and looked at the waves crashing on the bed in front of her. Just a beautiful view. With her hands still stretched over her head, she lowered them slowly and rested them on top of her head, hands linked, as she watched Angad jog at the shore.
She glanced at the watch. Eight. She looked back at him. He ignored everyone who greeted him, who smiled at him. Then, she noticed the headphones in his ears and grinned. She laughed and spun in a happy circle at the window.
She made the bed, their bed, for the first time in her life, singing like a sixteen-year old madly in love. She showered with the windows of the bathroom open and the music blasting from the room. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so happy.
After dressing into a pair of shorts, which skimmed her knees and a plain black t-shirt and went into the garden barefooted, still singing, and slammed right into that hard muscled chest of his.
She beamed at him. "Good morning, Angad. Did you enjoy you jog?"
A little cautious, he narrowed his eyes. "Good morning. I though you'd sleep more." He evaded her before she could reach up and kissed him. He wasn't sure if he could handle any physical contact with her yet.
"No." She frowned and then followed him back into the house. "If you're making breakfast, I could help you."
"It's okay, I could do that myself. I'm sure you have things to do." He tossed the I-Pod on the table and pulled of the sweatshirt. His plain white shirt under it was streaked with sweat in a long line in the centre of the front and the back of his shirt. She could all but see his muscles ripple under his shirt.
"No, actually I don't. I normally go home for New Years." She linked her hands together as he turned on the pot to brew coffee. "I understand if you don't want to come, but I'd like you to come."
"I don't know if I can." He dumped the grounded coffee into the water. "You can go."
She huffed now. If the damn man wasn't going to give an inch, well then nor was she. She was done trying now. "You know what Khanna." She grabbed him from the neck of his shirt from the back and turned him forcefully. "Here's the deal, you freak, you can sit in this den of yours and brood all day. Then you can go all the way to hell and back, without worrying I'll give a damn. But, you have no right to be so aloof and? aloof," she decided, "with me. Specially not after we spent an entire night together. Now you can go to hell or stay here. I'm leaving."
"Kripa." He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the floor. She squeaked in shock as he set her on the counter. "If you don't learn to control your temper, I swear I'll kill you. Now, listen. Last night was just sex. S-E-X." It hurt so much, but Kripa's used her talents to keep her eyes blank. "Our marriage is going to be over in a little less than four months now. I don't want to, I don't need to, know your family and spend time with them, okay? I know I'm not sorry for what happened last night. But I still hope it had never happened. I had no right to touch you."
They stared at each other for a few seconds before Kripa shocked them both by raising her hand and wiping it against his face. "I was so wrong about you, Angad." She jumped down from the counter and walked away calm and cool.
Angad slammed his hand against the wall and swore until he ran out of breathe.
Kripa spent about fifteen minutes in her bedroom. The music was lasting as she tore the room apart and swore. When she stopped, the entire room was upside down.
She found her keys and sunglasses and left the house. She dropped the wedding band Angad had given her on the floor and never noticed.
When Angad came into his room he stood at the door with his eyes wide in shock. The mattress on the bed was lying in the floor. The mirror was cracked behind it, the sheets tore in another world. His cloths all spread on the floor. She had broken all the little pots and bottles of perfumes that had been sitting on the dresser as well. The room smelled of a million different scents.
He found himself some cloths from the floor and as he walked back he found her ring lying on the floor and cursed her. The lady needed a lesson and he was going to give it to her very soon.

Kripa took the longest route to her parents house. What the hell did the man think of himself? Fine, it had been sex. So what? People who shared just sex were still close. They didn't ignore each other in the morning. They didn't slap each other with words or hands. She frowned behind her sunglasses as the yellow light turned into red. She wasn't going to talk to him or give him one second of her time. He could brood all he wanted and she wasn't going to care.
What the hell had she been thinking when she had ran into love with him in the matter of two months? She rubbed her hand over her heart. She knew that wall had fallen a long time ago and there was no point in building it up again. If she knew anything about Angad, she knew he would be saying sorry soon enough. She frowned and turned towards the freeway and picked up speed. Very quickly, taking the risk, she clipped her hair back and then let the hood of her car down. The wind cut through her so sharply, it left her satisfied.
God, what had gotten into her when she had slapped him? She knew she shouldn't have done that. Or torn the damn room apart. She had to go live in that room again.
Well there were like six more rooms she could live in. In fact, she was going to do just that. No way in hell she was leaving him four months early. The house was just so beautiful. She was going to live in a separate room and never come in his way. She had about five scripts she had to read and chose from. If she wanted, she would sign all of them and just to keep herself busy enough. And, if none of them appealed to her, she could just go on another vacation. She hadn't shopped for sometime and Paris would be just the perfect place to waste a few thousand dollars. She could even travel to London and Rome, Milan, she mused and turned the music on louder over the wind.
Who was she kidding?
Then she sighed as Angad's latest, Wounded Love poured through her speakers. Who the hell was she kidding? She laughed out loud; she had the hardest time staying away from him for two weeks and had come back four days early. She was sure she'd die if she had to stay away from him for months. For life.
She wanted to know what was bothering him. Maybe she could get them drunk on whiskey and then make him talk to her. He'd been married. Maybe he was scared to be tied down forever because of it. Maybe if he could share his life with her, he would be more comfortable around her.
That's it! Her stomach growled and she remember she hadn't had a bite in more than twenty-four hours. She had planned to the night before until Angad had ravished her. She let out a long dreamy sigh, that could have qualified on the positive side of a purr. She took off the freeway and towards her parents lane. She knew the marriage couldn't have failed because of him. He was so sweet and caring and? yeah right! She shook her head. He was so damn aloof and selfish and self-absorbed. The man didn't care anyone but himself. I, me and myself!
But had he always been like that?
She left her hood down and stepped out of her car and noticed she wasn't wearing her shoes again. She chuckled. One day she was going to end up at a lovely event without her shoes.
She rang the bell and waited for her parents to open the door.
"Kripa!" Kajal wrapped her arms around her daughter. She was dressed in a robe and her hair was rumpled. "How are you?"
Kripa looked at her mother and kissed her. "Did I disturb something?" She wiggled her eyebrows and made her mother wince.
"I don't know what I was thinking when you were born." She shoved hands through her hair. "You don't even try to be discreet. Anyways, we were still sleeping."
"We!" She giggled when her mother shook her head. "Oh, Mom." She wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. "I'm so happy."
"I can see that." She turned around and reached up to kiss her forehead. "You're in love."
"Yes." She sighed and knew it wasn't a question, but a statement. A very true one.
Kajal looked at her daughter. She hadn't seen Kripa this happy since she had held her first Oscar. Not this happy. She added tea to the water. "And Angad?"
She frowned then and rummaged through the cabinets until she found her favourite box of cereal. She opened it and began eating right out of it. Kajal didn't bother to stop her. She knew it would be useless. "He cares about me one minute and the next he's so distant. One second I feel like he cares about me so much, the next he doesn't care if his words hurt me." She thought about what he had said this morning.
"That's how your father was. Not Veer." She said and sighed. "Ajay. He was one of the separated men from the world. I loved that about him."
Kripa shook her head. "Angad isn't like that, Mom. He likes to be around people, he's in a profession which demands that. He's so warm with so many people. But with me, he keeps going back and forth. I can't stand it, Mom. It hurts." She set the box down and her eyes filled so quickly.
"Oh, baby." Kajal went and wrapped her arms around Kripa. "Love hurts, honey. You'll have to learn that."
"What's all this about?" Veer demanded from the door. "Why are you guys crying?" He went to kissed both his wife and his daughter and then took Kripa's shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sniffed. "I love you, Daddy."
He looked at Kajal and a message passed between them that no one else could understand, but them. "I love you, too, love." He kissed the top of her head. "What's wrong?"
"Why couldn't everyone be like you?" She wiped her cheeks. "You're so nice."
"Not always. Come on, lets go take a walk and your mother can fuss with her cooking till them." He offered his arm and Kripa took it.
Kripa rested her head on his shoulder as they walked across the beach. "So How did you spend your New Year's Eve?"
She thought about Angad. The way he'd loved her. "Nothing special. I was just at home."
"That's not like you. Was Angad with you?" He stopped and sat down on the sand with her. "Has he hurt you?"
"No. I've hurt myself. What did you and Mom do?"
She looked at him and he grinned. "Nothing special." He winked at her and when she laughed he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Now tell me what's bothering you."
"Angad and I married to teach Prithvi a lesson and we were going to separate in six months. I messed it up and fell in love with him."
"You continue to shock me, Kripa. What about Prithvi?"
"I don't think I ever loved him. I was mad that he betrayed me. But, it's different with Angad." She sighed.
"He was married before," Veer pointed out.
"Yes, he was. But, he doesn't even talk to me about it. I tried once and he simply brushed it off. I don't want to push because I'm scared that he will get angry."
"Then you have to give him time. When I met your mother it was? wired. I was determined I'd never marry again. Then you and Nikki were becoming best friends and we kept meeting. It took us almost four years to finally tell each other we couldn't live without the other." He laughed. "I've made her cry and I've made her laugh since. But, I haven't let her go. We made it work and we shared everything with each other. You'll have to do that same. The only way he'll come closer to you is when he decides to share his past life with you, and the reason why he left his first wife."
She looked at her father. All those sharp features had softened. She leaned over and hugged him. "I can't wait for years," she said.
"Then you won't have to. My daughter Kripa gets what she wants. Is he planning to come to dinner today?"
"I asked and he said no."
"Don't push him into it. Once you stop paying attention he'll come to you wondering."
She groaned. "I can't believe you're telling me this."
He chuckled. "I think I've mastered the art of love after living with your mother, for almost twenty years."
Angad managed to replace the mattress back on the bed and clean the broken glass before he gave up and just went to go take a shower. The woman had wished him to hell, well now he was wishing her the same. How could she just tear everything to pieces like that in fifteen minutes? He shuddered as he pulled on his jeans. And, she'd slapped him! She had been the one to say she just wanted to be there with him, well that's why he had? he shook his head and found himself a shirt from the pile on the floor. She was a spoiled brat who really knew how to throw a temper tantrum. But, she was sweet at heart. And, whatever she had wanted, he knew what they had shared between them was more than what he had made it seem.
He knew he had hurt her.
He had cut his hand twice already from the glass and has sworn and cursed her over it.
When he found the ring on the floor, he rolled her ring in his finger and frowned. Why did she just throw it here? He slipped it into his pocket. Maybe he could take her flowers and say sorry and make-up with her.
He looked at the room and winced. If she forgave him, he was going to make her clean this mess. He grabbed his keys, ready to leave then stopped. What if she didn't want to see him there? Maybe he could just call her and see if she didn't mind if he came.
Well, he thought as he locked the house, if she wanted she could just throw him out of the house again. When he arrived at her childhood house he could hear the music inside. From the window as tall as the ceiling, he could see the large Christmas tree which hadn't come down yet. He had taken his down two days after Christmas. The cheery lights had made him think of Kripa. Every corner of the house was filled with her. He could link every room in the house to her. Her laughter and her tears. Her quite voice she used to sooth and the raging voice she used to fight.
Now he had four months left with her. She had never said she loved him. Or that she wanted to stay. And, he wasn't nave enough to believe that because she had slept with him she loved him. There had been so many women in his life that he had slept with but hadn't loved.
Angad scrubbed a hand over his face. What had been the point of that? He demanded. It had just been a way to convince himself he didn't need love in his life. Well how wrong had he been. He wanted that love in his life. He wanted it with Kripa.
Oh, hell! He lowered his head on the wheel in front of her house. She probably didn't even what to be with him for a lifetime. She was a nice young lady, who deserved someone better than him. Anyways, he fought with her half the time they were together. His grin came so unexpectedly as he realized he found reasons to fight with her.
He took the roses sitting on the seat beside him and stepped out of the car. If four months was all he had, he was going to make the best of them. And, in that time if destiny decided that he deserved better at least this once in his life, he would keep it.
One deep breath, the two, and he pressed the door bell. He heard the noses inside. Laughing and arguing. Someone crying. Something yelling. He heard Kripa laugh and his stomach twisted into tight knots.
Kripa's mother answered the door, laughing about something. "Angad?"
"Hi. I.. Kripa said that?" Feeling absolutely ridiculous, he shuffled on his feet. "These are for you." He handed her the flowers and smiled. "I wanted to say sorry, I couldn't make it to the Christmas dinner. Kripa said you wanted me to come."
"Yes." Kajal smiled and took the pink roses from him. She knew he had brought them for Kripa.
"I'll go." He said when she didn't invite him in.
"No." Kajal gave up and laughed. The boy needed love. "Come in. We were just about to lay dinner."
"Thank you." He walked in behind her through the small hallway and looked at pictures as he passed them. He saw a happy family in them.
"I'm glad you could make it. This way."
Love. It was the first word that slammed into his mind followed by chaos. He saw a long dinner table piled with food. He saw Kripa's father laughing with his grandchildren. Nikki was fighting with Dev, with little Priti in her arms. Raj was outrageously flirting with Kripa and it made Angad smile.
She was beautiful. Until now he'd called her sexy, hot. Now he called her beautiful. She hadn't fussed with her face. Her outfit was simply in jeans shorts and a plain black shirt. Her hair half clipped back so messily, falling across her forehead, brushing her cheeks. Then she was throwing her head back and laughing. It was the only thing he could hear and see. Later, he noticed the easy way she placed her hands on her fathers shoulders. Angad smiled when Veer said something and Kripa leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving him a loving shake.
"We need another plate." Kajal announced as she walked into the room, the roses in a lovely vase now. "Take a seat, Angad. Kripa leave your father alone and eat. Dev and Nikki stop fighting. No one cares about football at the moment. Raj, have some shame and stop flirting with you sister-in-law in front of your wife." Three orders and everyone was in place and eating. He frowned when Kripa didn't even bother to look as him. "Angad, sit. No one eats standing in my house." Kajal nudged him into a chair. "Kripa serve."
"Why can't he do that himself?" Her words came so close to a bark. She gave him a hateful look across the table.
"Kripa-"
"It's okay." He began to reach for the serving spoon when Kripa was snatching it and his plate. He pressed his lips together to hold the smile. Over their heads, Kajal and Veer exchanged smiles. "Thanks."
"Whatever." She went back to her dinner and tried to not be annoyed when he didn't talk to her and got busy in a conversation with Nikki, Dev, and Raj about his work. While he listened and spoke when he wanted to, she took the time to look at him. He hadn't shaved, it was just like him. His hair was windblown and he kept shoving his hand though it to keep it off his forehead. He laughed and it made her smile. He didn't laugh enough. When he shoved his right hand though his hair she noticed the bandage and tried not to reach over and demanded what he had done to himself.
"Oh, honey." It was Kajal who was reaching for his hand. "What did you do to your hand? Did you see a doctor?"
"Ah. No. It's nothing big, actually. Just glass." He tried not to take his hand back. "Mrs. Kapoor, its fine." Kripa frowned that he called her Mrs. Kapoor.
"Let's go clean it and bandage it again, honey. I would hate to find out you had to get your hand amputated."
He laughed and shocked himself more than anyone else. "Okay." Kripa frowned into her food as they walked away.
Angad was looking at Kajal, while she nursed his hand. Kripa had her eyes, he noticed. They were big and brown like her daughter's. Warm like they were now, and sharp when she ordered someone. He could imagine her in court as an attorney or a judge. He suddenly hissed when his hand tingled with pain.
"Sorry. What did you do?" She asked and wrapped a white bandage around it. "Too tight?" She looked at him. He had such intense eyes, she thought. There was something behind them he tried too hard to conceal.
"A little. Kripa broke the mirror in our room, I was cleaning it up." He sighed and took his hand away from Kajal's. "Thanks."
"Angad." She touched his arm to stop him. "Kripa is a little over dramatic. I think I spoiled her all the years she was without her father. And, then Veer spoiled her more later. She's not bad at heart."
"I know that." He stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Veer? he?"
"He isn't Kripa's real father. Her real father died when Kripa was two. Car crash," she explained. "She never got to know him. She'll tell you the story if you ask her." She reached up and touched his cheek. "Tell her yours, Angad." She watched his eyes flash. "Angad." She took the hands he had slipped out of his pockets. "A marriage isn't meant to be anything but a lifetime thing, Angad. I don't understand why you even listened to her and married her." She smiled when he narrowed his eyes. "She can't keep secrets," she explained.
"Mrs. Kapoor?"
"You call me by my first name, Angad. Give yourself and Kripa a chance. Okay?"
"Aunty." He gave in and leaned down to kiss her forehead. He wanted, so badly, to hold her and take the comfort she was silently offering. "I can't call you by your first name, I think Kripa would skin me."
Kajal laughed. "You're good for her. Much better than who is was going to marry. Come on. We'll get a cup of coffee for you and we can tease Kripa together. I'm sure she's fuming right now."
"I was wondering if you could just keep her here. I'm a little scared to go home with her alone." They both stepped into the living room laughing. Kripa looked at them and smiled. She knew she would never get used to that easy sound coming from him. When he came and sat down on the floor behind her, she straightened. She wasn't going to give him a single inch. Not until he said sorry for what he had done in the morning anyways.
"Thank you." She heard him say when Kajal handed him the cup.
"Angad, your new song is a heartbreaker." It came from Nikki.
"In a good way I hope," he said and with his free hand grabbed Kripa's. "It's part of Kripa's latest ventures soundtrack." Kripa finally gave up and turned her hand over under his, he linked figures and shifted close until their bodies brushed. While he though no one noticed both Kajal and Veer did. "We spent hours on it."
"It was the same day Angad broke Prithvi's nose and jaw." He winced behind her and make Veer laugh. "I loved it."
"I knew there was something to like about you." Veer grinned at his son-in-law. "He deserved more than just a broken nose and a jaw. But I agree, it's a good song."
"Thank you." When Kajal slid in beside him, Angad noticed how easily Veer's arm went around her shoulder. The way he brush his figures through her hair. Angad tore his eyes away. He wondered if he could share the same thing with Kripa twenty years from now. Then Kripa was leaning back into him comfortably as she shared a conversation with her sister. Angad looked at Nikki. Her three children were sitting around her. And, she was sitting, curved in her husbands arm. They all shared something here he had hardly seen. No, he realized later, he had never seen.
At his house, Angad had spent an hour behind his piano. But music couldn't come out of him. Constantly, Kajal's words came into his mind. He should tell Kripa everything. He pushed away from the piano and blew the smoke from his cigar.
She was lying in bed under black silk sheets. Where the hell had they come from? There were candles lit on high metal stands. His extremely manly room had been transformed into a princesses beauty-sleeping room, and smelled a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. He frowned when he noticed she had cleaned the rest of the room on her own.
"No need to leave, Angad." She shifted and turned the page of her book. He hadn't though she would notice. "If you want us to live in separate rooms I'll go from here. This room is yours." She closed the book and set it aside.
"No. It's cold in here." The window was open and he could hear the waves crashing. He looked at her and found her staring back at him. He sighed and crossed the room to sit down beside her on the bed. "Where did these silly black silk things comes from?"
"I brought them." Eyes narrowed she searched his face. He was being wired. "You don't like them?"
"I normally don't sleep with silk," he explained. "You've given the room a really romantic look." He swept a gaze around again. "Anything special?"
"No. I just felt romantic. Specially with this romance novel." She waved the book in front of his face and he looked at a couple wrapped in a intimately tight embrace. "And, I plan to finish it tonight. I would hate to disturb you. I'll just go down and watch some T.V. as I read the book."
"Soniya and I divorced five years ago today." He saw the shock and pain cross on her face so fast, he had to laugh. She had a heart as soft as her anger was torrid. "I met her on New Year's day almost seven years ago, and we ended it on New Years day as well. I was barely twenty-five when I met her."
"Angad." She tossed the book away and leaned over to take her face. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have bothered you." She shifted to her knees to hug him but he walked away. Was he still in love with her? She wondered. And wondering hurt. She wasn't sure if she could share him with someone else.
"Not now, Kripa. I can't let you comfort me yet. I wanted to tell you everything the day you came in the piano room and I was upset. You asked me and I realized I could tell you everything." He turned and the candles were glowing behind him. He looked lost, she realized. And, he needed love. "Will you listen, Kripa?" He needed to tell her.
"Yes, I'll listen." She linked her hands together and prepared herself for the worst.

CHAPTER FIVE
He started the fire and walked to the window. "I lost my mom when I was ten and I never even knew who my father was. I asked and she never told me. But I was happy with her. She gave me an average life. I was so young Kripa, but I knew everything she went through to give me what I wanted. So many hard hours working, I stopped asking." He turned around and looked at her. She looked so perfect sitting in the middle of his bed, surrounded with silk sheets. He wasn't willing to give it up. He wasn't sure if he could survive after giving her up. "She died in a bus accident."
"I'm sorry." She had lost a parent herself, but she still couldn't relate. She didn't know what else she could say. She slid out of bed and crossed to him. He smiled. She was wearing her skimpy silk shorts in a pearl colour and a loose pink top in silk as well.
"I was too." He turned to look at the water with her. "I was shoved into a forester home, one after another. I kept running away they kept catching me. I didn't want to live with people who didn't love me, Kripa. By the time I was sixteen they couldn't catch me anymore. I was too fast to be caught, to smart for it. I was in New York and I worked in bars, cleaned, served.. It sounds like a movie."
"It was your life." She countered and tipped her head back to look at him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she knew she had to wait.
"Yeah. I was working at a bar, singing now, on Friday nights, when Prithvi first met me. We fought the first time we met. He was a year older than me, and there with a fake ID, and he was very drunk. He shoved me for being in his way and I took a swing back. He was drunk, but still stronger than me. I landed in the hospital with a few broken ribs on the right side."
"Ouch. He deserved that broken jaw and nose then." She slid her arms around his stomach then, for herself, fingers brushing ribs that were once broken.
"His mom actually really loved me. It was Illegal to be working in a bar at sixteen to begin with. They turned me into the authorities, and I was set to be given to another couple. It ended up being Prithvi's parents. His mom loved me so much, Kripa. I couldn't understand when I became brothers with Prithvi. A few years later we moved here. I went to school, got a degree in music. My second year of college Prithvi's mom died. It left me heart broken. I was so upset. She was the only woman in my life I'd loved since my mother and I blamed her for just leaving me like that. Then I was out of college and Prithvi was nagging me about trying music in Hollywood. I listened."
"So maybe he was good," she mumbled.
"He was. I was finishing my first album and I met Sonya at the grocery store on New Years day. Prithvi wanted beer and he send me in. She was a cashier. She was asking for my autograph and I found myself asking her to coffee. We went out for almost a year before I realized I was in love with her. She was quite, a little shy. She would make a perfect wife. Someone I could spend my life with. She was alone, so was I. She started living with me, but we weren't physical yet. She had dinner on the table before I came back, even when we weren't married. She cared."
Kripa realized she was none of that. Quite or shy, she couldn't put dinner of the table. "So you married her."
"Yup. It was the stupidest thing I could have done. I loved her, but it wasn't passionate like love should be in a marriage. I made love to her maybe five times in the one year we were married. We didn't love each other, Kripa. We had become pals because we could relate to each other. We never fought. We had such a cold relationship. I couldn't have imagined to yank her into a kiss like I did with you yesterday. We were cold. And I realized for the first time that just because you don't fight with someone, doesn't mean you love them. Fighting is important, I think. We always listened to each other, never fought if we disagreed. It was a cold relationship."
"Everyone said you were cheating on your wife."
"I wasn't." He turned to her and took her shoulders. "You would have to believe me, Kripa, I wasn't. I would have never. She said she believed me, but I knew she didn't. She was pregnant, she carried to a five month term, then she miscarried. I had been so excited, Kripa. I though it might work. But, it didn't."
"I'm sorry." She rubbed her hand over his arm. "I don't know what else I could say."
"Hell, I don't even know why I'm telling you all this, Kripa. Anyways. We stayed together for about four months. We were mourning and we didn't turn to each other. Not once. She filed for the divorce. I had only began to thought about it. Six months later, she was married again. She has two children now. It left me wounded. I feel like it was my fault. That I didn't try hard enough to keep our marriage. I mean she's happy with her husband now. She has children."
And, what do you have, Angad? She though. Why don't you let yourself have something, someone? "It's very normal for women to miscarriage the first time, Angad. Mom miscarried twice before she finally had Dev. She had already had me. It didn't break my parents apart. Dev is nineteen and my parents are still together."
"They loved, no they still love each other." He shoved his hands thought his hair, frustrated. "Have you ever noticed how your parents are together?" She looked at him confused. "You take it for granted. They way they sit together and your dad puts his arm around her shoulder. Or how she leans on you dad. They way he touches her hair. And, she knows it, Kripa. Your mom knows he's doing that and it's so natural. Not just them, even your sister. Her and Raj, they share so much love. I sound like a desperate girl."
She laughed and taking his face reached up to kiss his forehead. "Honey, you're anything but a girl. I mean your face is so dangerous. And, God, your body?"
"Alright." He chuckled and dragged her against him and locked her arms around her. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you in four months."
She rested her cheek over his heart. You won't have to, she promised. I won't let you. "Angad." She tilted her head back and brushed her lips over his jaw.
"Yeah?" He brushed her hair off her face.
"I'm sorry I hit you. It was? impulsive." She smiled at him apologetically. "I was upset about what you said. It was harsh."
"I know. I was mad. Tell me something." He unclipped her hair. His hand buried in it. They both heard the clip fall. "Will you kill me if I kissed you again?"
"Never."
"I want to make love to you, with you, this time. Will you let me?" He slid his hands down her neck and up again to cup her face. She offered and her eyes closed before he touched anywhere else. Here was the gentleness that she had always wanted from him, Kripa realized as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was just looking at her. "Angad." It was only a whisper as she closed the distance herself and pressed her lips against his.
He laughed. "You're always so eager. I told your mom to keep you with her tonight. I was sure you were going to kill me once we got home."
She pressed her lips against the skin that was exposed under the shirt buttons she had just opened. His flesh was warm, just like him. With one hand, she traced the indent over his heart, kissed it as well, still wondering why it was there. "I'm glad she didn't listen." She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, half the shirt open, and pressed her lips to his heart, over the scar a second time, lingered, flicked her tongue over the skin as if soothing the pain. The indent looked almost like a bullet had passed him.
"You remind me of a warrior." Smiling, she tipped her head up, her fingers still undoing the rest of his buttons one by one. She took her time to open them, to touch him. She had been desperate for him last night. Now, she knew he was desperate for love. She wanted to give it to him in any way she could. This was just as good a start.
"A warrior?" He lowered his mouth to her forehead. Lips brushing her temple, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth. Here was the gentleness she deserved, he thought. The gentleness he had always wanted to show her. He slid his hands away from her hair and skimmed them down the silk of her shirt.
"Hmmm." She stepped forward pressed herself against him. Silk against flesh. "You have a body made of steel. A face ready for war." Still looking at him she skimmed her fingers over his cheekbones. "You're beautiful."
He laughed and swept her up. "Beautiful?"
"Beautiful." She wrapped his arms around his neck and brought him down with him as he laid her down over the silk. "You're beautiful and I-" She groaned when his fingers slid under her shirt and brushed her skin. Dipped over and roamed to her back.
"You what?" He asked as he flipped open a button from the back of her shirt.
"Nothing." She couldn't tell him she loved him now. Not yet. She tilted her face to give him access to the side of her throat. His fingers were rubbing over the delicate skin of her forearm. His lips travelled down her neck, over her shoulder and down her arm to the hand that was fisted over the pillow. He brushed the inside of her elbow again, the centre of her forearm. Then her wrist. Her pulse was beating there like a drum. He rubbed his lips over the soft skin before sliding over to kiss the heel of her palm. He eased the fingers open and pressed his lips to the slightly damp palm, moved up to her fingers, kissed each finger one by one. Then he turned her hand around and worked his way back to her neck.
"I won't hurt you this time." He played with the strap of her top, nudged it aside, kissed her shoulder again.
She lifted her limp arms and framed his face with her hands. "You could never hurt me. You never did," she whispered. "Kiss me again, Angad. I feel like I've waited for you all my life." Finally, he lowered his mouth to hers and took. He rolled so she lay over him and undid the buttons on the back of her top. When he could run his hand over her back without barriers, he turned again so she was pinned under him again, and slid the silk away.
She gasped and floated as his hand slid down and he toyed with the waistband of her shorts. Kripa opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. It glowed from the candle light. He was so patient, so gentle she began to think it would be days before he finished making love with her.
Then, still taking his time he kissed her stomach and up with devastatingly slow kisses. It was like last time but different. So much more to offer here, to give. To find and to lose. She wanted to give and take, find and lose with him. Him and no one else.
Hands fisted over the black silk sheets she looked into his eyes. They'd gone smoky like an early morning fog after a rainy night. There was danger in them. There was romance in them.
"You're killing me, Angad."
His smile came slowly and small. His lips barely curved, the slightest lift at the corner of his mouth, as he slid into her like silk. Kripa arched against him and her eyes closed.

Angad opened his eyes when he felt Kripa trembled beneath him. He shifted his face away from her neck and lifted his face to look at her. "Kripa? Are you crying?"
"No." She shoved him away and turned to pressed her face into the pillow. "No."
"Yes you are." Appalled, unsure what he had done wrong, sure he had hurt her, he turned her and made her look at him. Oh, yes. She was crying. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, Angad." She sniffed and thumbed the tears away. "I'll be right back."
"Not you wont." He grabbed her face and made her look at him. "Did I do something wrong? Are you hurt." he looked at her and searched for bruises and making her hoot with laughter.
"No. No" She pulled him down and wrapped his arms around him. "I just? I feel loved."
"Damn woman." He lifted her face. "Next time I'll trash you a few times. Hit you head against the wall. Would that be better?"
"Angad!"
"I'm not going to fight with you right now." He rubbed his lips over her forehead and made her sigh. "Now tell me seriously why were you crying."
"I told you. I felt loved and I felt like I would be cherished." She brushed her fingers through his hair. God, she loved that head of hair. She could spend hours and hours just playing with it. "No one could have made me feel what you did." He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to her.
"Are you hungry?" He glanced at the clock. "It's after midnight. We had dinner around seven."
She frowned as she watched him roll out of bed and tug on his pants. What that all he could say? If she was hungry? Frowning, she sat up and tugged the sheets around her. She was about to grab his shirt when she decided against it. She got up and with the sheets still around her, she blew the candles out, and she walked down to the living room and started a fire under the mantle. From the bar she picked two long flutes and from the small fridge got out champagne. Angad was setting up a plate of crackers and cheese when she walked in with the flutes. He cocked a brow at her attire of black silk. She looked sinuous. She made him crave for more than just what was under that silk. She made him crave for who was under that silk, for the heart that was hidden under the silk. He wanted to have that heart, he thought and forced himself not to feel what he was. They weren't meant to be together. It was sex, just sex and nothing more. And, he knew he was lying to himself. He'd said that he wanted to make love with her. To her. If that was the only way he could have her, he'd take it. For now. If later things changed, he knew he would be more than happy to keep her. Forever.
"What exactly are you wearing under that?" He lifted the cracker to her lips.
"I don't know." She gave him the flute. "Maybe you can find out later on."
"A woman after my own heart." But he set the flute and the plate aside and wrapped his arms around her, pressed his face into her shoulder. "I don't regret a single minute of this marriage, Kripa."
She rolled her eyes, why couldn't he just say the three simple words? "Good for us." She pursed her lips, trailed a nail down his spine. Maybe if she kept reminding him that it was going to be over in four months he'd get scared and tell her he loved her. "No one regrets a minute with me." She slanted her head to look at him, wiggled her eyebrows. "I started a fire in the living room. Why don't we sit there and eat?"
He drained his glass of champagne. "Are you really that hungry?" When she nodded he grinned. "Darn, so I am." He yanked her against him. "For you."
"Oh, my." She said and let herself be savaged a second time.

Kripa shifted with the sun slanting on her face through the slightly open curtains of the living room. She groaned, shifted, and pressed her face against the side of Angad's chest. There was no way she could have woken up when she had gone to sleep at five in the morning after having a full meal in front of the fire with Angad. No one had ever cooked for her five in the morning. Well, Angad had. Eyes closed, sleep vanished, she smiled. Angad had done so much she couldn't have imagined for herself before.
Knowing she couldn't sleep again, she opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at Angad. It was the first time she had woken-up to find him still sleeping beside her. Content with the feeling of waking up beside him, she rested her head on his shoulder. Well, she'd never slept on the rug, in the living room either after hours of love making.
And she had thought she had done everything in her life.
Realizing for the first time there was more to life than adventures, she looked at the fireplace. There was so much more to life than having money and luxuries. So much more love than that just of your parents and siblings and friends. The love that mattered the most was of the man who you were destined to spend you life with. She believed it was Angad for her. She sat up and looked around the living room for her cloths. She had been wearing her sheets since she had walked down from the bedroom she realized. Grinning, she looked at Angad. She had two choices, she decided. Either she could walk into her room with the sheets or leave Angad sleeping here with the sheets. She was sure he wasn't going to appreciate the first one. She pressed her hand to her chest to secure the sheets when Angad shifted to his stomach.
Well, there was no choice. Sighing, she got up and with the silk around her and giggled like a foolish girl as she watched Angad sleep so peacefully. She dashed upstairs and came back with a pillow and a blanket. Sliding the blanket under his head, she covered his naked body with the quilt. Feeling too much in love, she shifted her head on the pillow so it was opposite Angad, she kissed him while he slept. When he made a sound in his sleep, she smiled and realized he hadn't slept this peacefully in a very, very long time. She could see it on his face.
"I love you," she said and kissing his forehead before she went to take a shower.
She showered thinking about Angad. Then she dressed still thinking of him and everything they had talked about the night before. The quite and quick dinner he had cooked her. It was almost a pre-morning snack. He was so fascinating when he opened up. When he decided to share who and what he was. All the encounter he had to face, the funny ones and then sad ones. It surprised her when he told her that he had went to Princeton University to get an MBA before he changed his mind and changed his major to music. A smile tugged at her face as she thought about again. She could imagine him sitting behind a large oak desk, in a large leather chair, a cigar in his mouth, working senseless over contracts and deals. She could imagine a pair of horn rim glasses on his nose. It was scholarly sexy. Then again, Angad Khanna could be anything he wanted. She sighed and creamed her legs from the pot that she hadn't succeeded in breaking during her tantrum the night before.
He hadn't mentioned Sonya or his past life again all night. He had seemed happy and she had been exuberated to watch him grin time and again, laugh with her, frown with her, love with her. They had argued like they always did. Kripa knew she would be worried the day her and Angad stopped arguing, it was so essential to their lives.
Other than that, she also knew he loved her. She saw it in his eyes. She felt it in the way he had absently kissed her hair even once in a while they had lain awake at night not able to sleep, in each others arms. She sensed it when they sat across each other at the small table in the kitchen and he reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear. Or just brush his lips over her hand, play with her fingers. But she knew he wouldn't tell her. He was afraid to love again. He thought if he loved and attached himself it would end up in a disastrous state. It had started from his mother's death, followed by Prithvi's mothers death. Then he had lost his baby and then his wife. She wasn't sure what the love was that he had shared with Sonya. But losing her had left a mark on his heart and soul that said, it had been his fault. He was sure it was his fault because now Sonya was happy and with two children. She wanted to tell him it wasn't. That he wasn't meant for Sonya. That had been nothing more than a trial. What he was afraid to share with Kripa was for life.
Sighing, Kripa tugged on her cloths and went downstairs again. He had seemed to like the fact that Sonya could cook for him. With a frown she placed her hands on the polished wood of the stairs. Maybe it was time she learned and tossed that gift of burning away for good. Nikki would help her, so would her mother. Hell, even her father could cook. Of course if she let Angad know that she wanted to cook he would definitely oblige him. Maybe she could start with just cooking a simple breakfast. How hard could it be to do it alone? She didn't mind eating burnt eggs and toast, she told herself. He probably would when he was used to decent cooking. Heck, excellent cooking.
Determined, she found the plain white apron and to add an affect she plopped on the chief's hat. Later, she knew she would go look up some nice culinary schools and enrol herself.

Angad shifted to his back again and blinked against strong rays of sun that were washing through the high windows of his house. Thinking Kripa would still be sleeping beside him he reached for her. When he found himself patting his hand on the deep run, and then the cold tiles of the floor, he opened his eyes and found himself alone on the rug. She had waken up before him? Amused at himself and her, he looked at the clock and saved himself from a heart attack. One? How could it possible be one in the afternoon. He sat up and rubbed his face before he grabbed his jeans.
He followed the smell of food, a little burnt he thought, into the kitchen. Kripa was standing behind the stove with her stupid silk shirts and a fitted sand-coloured shirt. And the apron made her look? homely. Almost wifely.
His wife.
The chief's hat gave her a little dramatic look. He watched her struggled to flip the eggs in the pan, her lower lips caught between her teeth. Such concentration, he thought with a grin. But why was she cooking? Probably because he had slept too long and she was hungry.
Whatever the reason, Angad thought, it brought him such wired, such unknown pleasure to see her standing in his kitchen, cooking.
When she had finished cooking the eggs, just a little burnt at the ends, she transferred it into the plate and found him standing in the doorway, just watching her. He was standing in just jeans, snug at his hips, unbuttoned like always. It made her smile.
She turned the burner off and smiled at him, wiped her hands on the apron. "Hi. I was just going to come and wake you up." She crossed to him and reaching up brushed her lips over his. "It's kind of late for breakfast." She wrinkled her nose. "But I guess we could skip lunch and just have a very late breakfast. Why don't you go up and shower? I start the coffee if you want. I could do that without screwing it up."
She stopped smiling when she noticed the perplexed look on his face. "Hello? Anyone home?"
"You made breakfast for me?"
"Hmmm. Yeah. Don't you want any?" Disappointment hit first, she waited for the anger to come but it never did. "If you don't, it's okay. I was just wasting time."
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her long, slow, deep. So warm. It was a kiss that could steer a dead soul. She lifted her hands to his shoulder for balance because her world had titled before spinning. When he drew away, she was still too dazed to open her eyes. She made a sound and neither one of them was sure what it was. "I'll make sure I cook every morning," she managed after a while.
"Kripa." He lowered his forehead on hers and yearned to say the words to her. They could be so simple, but he was afraid that he wouldn't hear them back. He knew, like she did, he sensed, like she did, that she loved him. But deep in him, he was scared. Scared that one mistake could spoil everything. He knew he had spoiled it with Sonya and now he was glad. He would have never found her if he hadn't. He kissed her forehead. "I'll go shower and then we'll eat."
"Angad." She caught his hands before he could leave. She was just as terrified as he was. "I? I should start the coffee, you want some right?"
"Sure." He gave her hands a quick squeeze and left her in the kitchen.


As days turned into weeks, their love grew and they knew it when they looked at each other. Kripa knew he needed love so she made sure they had dinner with her parents a few time. She invited them over a few times. She could see that Angad was very comfortable with both her father and her brother, but with her mother he kept his distance. It was almost like he was scared to express his love to Kajal, as he was to express his love for Kripa. His love for Kajal and Kripa was so different. Two boat in two different oceans. He stayed at the shore of both the relationships. He laughed with Kajal and talked to her. But the second he remembered that she wasn't his mother but Kripa's, he backed off. She felt it, Kripa had witnessed and she wished she could tell him Kajal wasn't going to hurt him or leave him. No one was anymore.
Kripa felt incredibly sad for the boy who he had been and the man he had forced himself to become. He only gave himself the things that he could see, nothing he could feel. Never anything he could keep for good. He ran from emotions, unless it was anger. She felt it when they were together. He would get so comfortable when they made love and he'd talk to her, just hold her, hour after hour. All night sometimes. But then in the next moment she would find him pulling away.
And, God it stung to watch him pull away suddenly. But, Kripa wasn't ready to give up. She let him have his way when he pulled away suddenly. For now. She was determined that one day he would never pull away from her.
Kripa sighed, as she heard the piano bleed from the room downstairs to her room. It was choppy right now. She heard him stop and then start again. Wondering why he was struggling, Kripa tugged the hair brush through her hair one last time and then went downstairs.
She watched him scribble out notes from the sheet and add some, then play them out and modify them. He was dedicated when it came to work. In fact, he was dedicated in anything he did in anything he did. She slid into the bench beside him and looked at the notes, then at him. He was so engrossed with his work, it was almost as if she wasn't sitting there. Glancing at the clock across the room, Kripa sighed. The man has been working non-stop for almost four hours, it was time he stopped.
To gain his attention, Kripa brushed her fingers along the side of his hair.
"Hmmm?" He didn't look at her and starched the notes on the sheet.
A little annoyed, Kripa snatched the pencil from his fingers. "You're done for tonight."
"Kripa!" When he looked at her she was beaming at him with her eyelashes fluttering expertly. Angad groaned and set the music sheets away and turned to her. "What do you want?"
"You to be sleeping." She shifted closer and wrapped her arms around him. "You've been sitting in here forever now."
"Hmmm." He stood up and then scooped her up. "I have to finish the song by Friday."
"And, Friday is three days away, Slick." She kissed his forehead. "Three days is a lot of time," she informed as he set her down on the bed. "Angad!" She grabbed his shirt when he began to leave again. "You are not leaving to work anymore. You are done. Finished for today." Still tugging she pulled him down over her. "Sleep."
He chuckled and kissed her. "Okay. If I can to change I'd sleep easier. Should I go change?"
"Fine." She turned as he walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open behind him. "Angad I was thinking about a little get together at home before the release next Friday. The crew, a few friends."
"If you want to." He tugged on a white shirt over his sweats and walked back into the room. He didn't want to tell her how wired he felt to know she would arranging a get together at his home. It all seemed so intimate. Every time he saw her struggle in the kitchen. When she invited her parents over. When they cooked together and ate right out of the dish they had cooked in together. Or the times when he came home after a long day and she was there to hold on to, to make love to, to talk to. Every time he went to talk a shower and she fiddled around the bathroom and spoke with him. It all felt so normal. He couldn't remember the last time he had spent a month so peaceful and so normal.
He slid in beside her and smiled when she turned to rest her head on his chest. Oh, yes, he hadn't had a month so normal in a very long time. "Why don't you start by making a guest list. We'll take care of the menu and stuff together." He turned so their faces were parallel to each other. "Kripa?"
"Yeah?" She was already calculating the menu and guests in her head. It would be her first get together. And, very exciting.
"Nothing." He pulled her against him and held her tight and kissed her hair. I love you, he thought as he closed his eyes. "Good night."
"Good night. Angad." She tipped her head back and looked at him. "We have two months of out marriage left."
"I know."
"I don't want it to be two more months." Panic tightened in his stomach as he looked at her.
"But-"
She pressed her finger to his lips. "I want it to be forever. I don't want to wake-up one day and know that it's my last day with you." Baffled with herself, the things she had just said, she sat up. She turned to him and framed his face with her hands. "I love you, Angad. I want to grow old with you and I want to watch all our children grow up. I love you." She said again.
He was too shocked, too scared to say anything to her. He knew she was waiting for him to saw something. "I?"
"You don't have to tell me." She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulders. "I thought I should let you know."
"Give me time." He whispered.
"All the time you need." They laid down again and Kripa wrapped her arms around him again. "Just know you're stuck with me for life." Amazed that she had told him, she pressed her hand to his heart. She laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist, clung like child and laughed. "I never thought I'd tell you so soon."
He sighed with her and skimmed his hands over her silk boxers, down her thighs. "I've been meaning to ask you something, Kripa." When she only made a sound it made him laugh. "Why do you were silk boxers."
"Oh. It's one of those luxury things." She looked up at him. "Do you mind?"
"Oh, no. By all means, continue to wear all the silk you want. I love to take them off you." Leaning over he nuzzled her neck. "Kripa, I'm scared to tell you what I feel."
"I know you are." She pressed her lips against his neck. "I know, don't worry about it. One of these days you're going to have to tell me you love me." Heaving a sigh, Kripa slid her arms up to his shoulders to kneed the tension away. "And when you do I won't leave you. I'll never leave you, Angad. I love you, and it's not going to disappear if I leave you. It's not what I had with Prithvi. God knows what that was, but I know what I feel for you is stronger."
"Good." He brushed his lips over her brow and then over her mouth. "That's very good."
"Isn't it?" Excited she pressed an absent kiss against their linked hands. "Oh, and I think it's time we went on that honeymoon every married couple goes on."
"Jeez, Kripa. You just had a vacation in Greece."
"Yeah, without you. Now, it's time we have one together. And, just in case you wanted to know I want children."
A little amused with her, he rolled so she was pinned under him. "How many?"
"Two." She brought his face down and kissed his forehead. "I love you," she repeated. "I love you, I love you." And, sighing, her arms tight around him, she slept. And, while she slept, Angad spend a long night thinking about what had just happened.

CHAPTER SIX
February
Kripa stared at the one-touch pregnancy test machine. It had the little pink line again. She'd already tested three times in one hour. The first time she had thought it had been a mistake. The second time, she still didn't believe it. Now, as she stared at the little pink line on the small machine she thought she was going to go crazy. She couldn't be pregnant. She had been using birth control. She couldn't be pregnant.
Oh, but she was.
Exhilarated, she threw the machine in the trash and jumped in the air. Oh, God, she thought as she ran out of the bathroom, I'm pregnant. She had to tell her parents and Nikki. She had to tell Angad before anyone else. He would be thrilled to find out she was carrying his baby. Their baby. Letting out a cry of excitement she went to call him. He'd go crazy and come back home from New York right now. With a sheen layer of mist in her eyes she picked up her phone and began dialling his number. She stopped mid-way. She should see a doctor first. Nikki, she would be able to tell her of Kripa was or wasn't pregnant.
Terrified, amused, ecstatic she pressed both her hands to her stomach and laughed. Her stomach was so flat as she ran her hands down her she wondered how would anyone know that she was carrying a baby right now? She cursed Angad for being gone to New York instead of being here with her right now. How would have he felt? How would have he treated her, she wondered as she sat down right there in the middle of the room and lowered her head in her hands wept from delirium.
When she was done, she found herself curled on the cool tile floor, her tears long dried on her cheeks, she let out a long sigh. She blamed the sudden outburst on changing hormones in her body. Thrilled with her reasoning, she let out a long laugh and pressed her cheek against the warming marble tile under her. She had to go see Nikki. She was the only person she could trust right now and know that the press won't know the news before she let Angad know.
How would he react? She wondered again as she went down to her car. He loved children, and she knew that by seeing him with Nikki's children. But, pampering other peoples children and having your own was different. A different feeling, responsibility. A different everything.
She drove slower than she normally did on the freeway, but her music blasted louder than ever. She wasn't sure how she was going to tell Angad. Probably with lots of flowers, candlelight, a romantic dinner, his favourite music. And, then when he would make love to her, slow and lovingly like always, she'd tell him she loved him, she'd also tell him that she was pregnant. She could see the look on his, shocked at first and then going crazy with excitement. In front of Nikki's house, Kripa rested her forehead on the wheel. "Oh, Angad, what have you left me alone with? You moron. How am supposed to know what to do while I'm pregnant?"
Getting out of the car she pounded the side of her fist on the door impatiently. When Nikki didn't open the door she swore and kicked the door with her heels and swore again. Huffing, she turned back to her car and decided that she would have to kill Nikki the next time she saw her. She thought of her mother and drove there. If no one was there, she was going to either hurt of self or the first person who she saw. She pretty much ran on the door, her fist already lifted to pound.
She was scared to death, she realized as Kajal opened the door.
"Mom! Thank Jesus." She threw her arms around her and clung.
"Kripa, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Drawing her away, Kajal looked at her daughter, as frantic as Kripa she searched for bruises.
"No, Mom." She pressed her hands to her mouth and held back a sob. "I think I'm pregnant. No, I am pregnant. The pregnancy test thing said so."
Kajal let out a long breathe. "Okay, love. Come on and sit down first. Veer!"
A moment later, she found herself sitting on the jade settee between her parents, a cold glass of water in her hands she had barely touched. "Now," Kajal wrapped her arms around Kripa. "You're pregnant?"
Frustrated, she blew her bangs out of her eyes. "The little pregnancy thing said I was. It was pink." Kripa said moving her hands in the air.
Veer chuckled to see his daughter so confused. But he was as thrilled to know that she was pregnant. He's felt wired when Nikki had gotten pregnant for the first time. Now his youngest daughter was pregnant for the first time. To know he'd be a grandfather for the fourth time made him want to jump in joy. When Kripa shot him a mean look, he snapped his lips into a firm line. "Sorry. Are you happy about it?"
"Happy? I'm scared and I'm confused. I'm angry at Angad for being gone right now. And, I'm on cloud nine." She let her eyes fill again and turned to hug her mother. "I don't even know if Angad wants a baby right now."
"Oh, baby." Kajal kissed her hair. "Why don't you get yourself an appointment with the doctor to make sure everything is okay. Then, call Angad and tell him to come back."
"He can't until tomorrow night. I don't want him to come back frantic, leaving his work behind." More at ease, she pressed her lips to her mothers cheek. "Thank you."
"It's okay."
Kripa closed her eyes when she felt her father press his lips against her hair. "Can I stay over? I'd be terrified if I had to live in that house alone."
"Sure."
Drawing back, Kripa looked at her mother, beamed at her. "Can I cook dinner tonight?"
Horror crossed Kajal's face while Veer groaned in disgust behind her. "Her pregnancy is definitely affecting her." Kajal assured Veer. "Why don't you just rest honey. I'll be more than glad to cook. All your favourite things, too. Let's go Veer." She linked hands with her husband and walked away.
Kripa frowned sitting on the settee and sighed. Maybe cooking was never meant to be her cup of tea. She took off her shoes and curled up on the settee, turning the TV on. Well, she thought with a deep, content sigh, now I can just be lazy. She patted her belly and closing her eyes, fell asleep.


Angad sat in his suite in New York and stared out of the his window on the twenty-fifth floor. Despite the chilly night, he left the window open and didn't mind the distant bustling of the crowd on the streets. Finding himself a cigar, he clamped it between his teeth and lit it. He had been bitterly disappointed when his secretary had told him that he needed to fly to New York for four days. The last three days had been so cruel on him. He had sat in meetings, rehearsals, dinners, and pubs thinking of Kripa. Thinking about the millions of times she had told him that she loved him.
She loved him hearing it again and again changed his life. The more she told him, the more he believed. The more he heard it from her mouth, the more quite it came to his lips. Yet he held it back. He trusted Kripa, but he didn't trust himself. He pressed the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray and let it lying there. Absently, he rubbed the scar on his heart. He hadn't told her everything, he mused. And, she had never asked him about the scar. Countless times she had pressed her thumb against it, tracing the indent, but she never asked him why it was there. Perhaps she was waiting for him to tell him.
Restless, he found another cigarette and lit it. He should have called her a few times already in the last few days. He hadn't called once. And, he couldn't understand why. She was probably waiting for him to call. When he had come back she had left him a message saying she was at her parents house. He wondered why she had suddenly decided to go see and live with her parents? She hadn't said when she would come back, why she had gone there. Her words, her scent, they were all clouding his mind. It was impossible to love someone so much. Yet, everyday he loved her more. And, worried what if she walked away one day? What if he messed up?
Panic rose in his mind quicker than he would have liked. He paced to the window. What if she had realized he wasn't worth her? After all she had grown-up in a secure home. She'd had parents, siblings; he had grown-up on the streets, stealing, running from cops. Working at bars, cleaning tables.
What if his career gave way one day and he ended up where he had begun? Where would he keep her then? What if they had children later on and he wasn't able to support them?
Calling himself a fool he scrubbed his hands over his face. She loved him, but they hadn't spoken about what would happen in two months from now, had they? Maybe she wanted to go back and live in her own house rather than his. Maybe she had realized she didn't want him anymore.
His heart sped-up, thudding dangerously fast against his chest. He tossed the cigarette out the window and grabbed his cell phone. From memory, he dialled her mobile. When she didn't pick-up he swore and dialled her parents house. The bell rang three times before someone picked it up.
"Hello." It was Dev and annoyed Angad. He would have to make small talk first. "Hello?"
"Dev. It's Angad." He dragged his hand through his hair. He had finally cut it yesterday, but it was still longer than usual. Kripa seemed to like his hair longer.
"Angad! Dude, you haven't called for days. Now that your wife is here and p-"
"Dev!" Annoyed, she grabbed the phone from him and shoved him away. "Would you learn to just mind your own business dude? Now go away."
"Yeah, I don't want to hear you talking lovey-dovey anyways."
Angad rolled his eyes on the other side of the phone. "Scram!" Kripa shouted and watched him stroll out of the kitchen. Kripa grinned at the phone and hauled herself up on the counter. "Hey, Slick."
"Kripa." He bit back a sigh and sat down on the bed. "Hi."
"Hi. So you finally got the time to call me?" She sighed and frowned. "I miss you." Subconsciously, she laid her hand on her stomach. She couldn't wait until he did the same with their hands were linked. They were a team, Kripa thought. A team that would never break and always grow stronger.
"I miss you, too. What are you doing at your parents house?"
"Hmmm. Nothing. The house was too big for me to stay in alone. Too empty with you," she said wistfully. "Come back."
"I am tomorrow. Don't be sad and don't kill someone because your mood is foul. Take care of yourself and don't try experiments in the kitchen alone. I'd hate to come back to a burnt house."
"You're so encouraging," she replied dryly. "Don't worry, love. When you come back you're not going to let me do anything for at least eight months."
"What?" He knit his brows together in confusion. "I don't get it. What's going to happen in eight months?"
"Idiot," she mumbled. "Nothing. I'm planning to go on a long vacation. Want to come with me?" She asked and wiggled her eyebrows.
"I'd love to." He sounded a kiss on the speaker and made her giggle. "I'll call you again."
"Don't forget. Angad, I love you."
He hesitated and made Kripa's heart weep. "Me, too. Come see me at the airport tomorrow. I'd love nothing more than seeing you first thing tomorrow."
"I'll come. I love you, and you better bring me back a nice expensive gift. I'll give you something in return."
"Kripa, you're starting to worry me. Tell me what's on your mind?"
"Remember I broke your sun glasses? I have a new pair." She heaved a sigh, pushed her bang away. "Look, Slick, you better come back soon. I'm going to go crazy without you."
"Well, I leave that impact behind, honey. Go to sleep and think of me."
She chuckled. "You too. Oh! Olivia is supposed to be due tomorrow," she said. "Aaron is ready to fly through the roof."
"I would be too," he mumbled and grabbed another cigar since no one was there to stop him. "I'll see you tomorrow, love."
"Me too. Don't work to late."
"Yes ma'am."
"And, don't smoke!" When he coughed on the other side, she laughed. "I'm crazy about you, Angad. Good night. I love you."
"Good night," he said softly. When she clicked the phone on the other side he said, "I love you, too." It was the first time he had dared to speak the words aloud even to himself.
The knock on his door had him grumbling. Hadn't he told everyone he didn't want to be disturbed? He hadn't called for room service either. When he yanked the door open, he had to force himself to look calm.
"Sonya?"
"Hi, Angad." She pressed her lips together. As nervous and shy as always. She had cut her hair to a short cap and the colour was lighter too. Angad wasn't sure why he was noticing all that. "Can I come in?"
"Yes." He moved away and allowed her in, wondering why he had to face her again.

Angad saw her standing in the middle of the crown with a bottle of water in one hand and her cell phone in the other. Unlike her usual style, she was dressed in a loose sweatshirt that said Pepperdine, white on black, with a snug pair of jeans under it. With sneakers. He couldn't remember when she had worn sneakers before. With a scowl on her face, she looked at her phone. Angad noticed, as he stood across the airport watching her, that she was much taller than the people around her. Her hair was left down like most of the times. And, even from so far away he could see the diamond in her finger flash. He wondered how long she would take before lifting her head and looking out to find him.
She could have sworn that she felt his eyes on her. So intense it made the back of her neck itch. She finished send another text to Aaron, telling him to calm down and then looked up. Oh, yeah, she thought as their eyes locked across the room, those eyes were intense and hot on her.
She grinned at him, sharply and tucked her phone into her back pocket. She walked two steps before she found herself running across the airport and launching herself into her arms. He caught her around the waist with a laugh and lifted her about four feet off the ground while she wrapped her arms tight around him. He allowed himself to be kissed lavishly by her and every worry, every insecurity that had been in his mind yesterday drained out as she pressed her face against her neck and took a deep, deep breathe.
"I missed you," she said and drew her head back to look at him. Her eyes were wet.
"I can see." He pressed his lips to her forehead and keeping his arm around her shoulder walked out of the airport.
"And you cut your hair." She ran her fingers through it with a grin. "It looks good."
"Thank you." He kissed her forehead and reached for her hand.
She drew out her buzzing phone from her back pocket. "Olivia went into labour about six hours ago," she explained. "I left Aaron alone with Nikki and Mom and he's frantic."
"Is she fine?"
"Yeah. The doctors are positive. Nikki is taking care of her personally." She smiled at him as he opened the door for her. Reaching over she touched her lips gently to her.
"Kripa."
"Hmmm." She closed the door and went into his arms in the parking lot deserted of people and full of cars.
"I missed you, too. I was going crazy at night sleeping on that huge bed alone. It was so uncomfortable to sleep without you kicking your arms and legs around the bed. Around me." Holding tight, he pressed his lips to her hair. "You're coming with me next time."
"Okay." She ran her hands down the muscles of his face and then up against and wondered if he could feel anything different about her. Maybe it was just her, but she felt different. A part of her told her that it was like a phobia. You thought you felt something or didn't feel something. She wondered he would notices small changes in her body the next time they were together. When she drew away she noticed the small signs of tiredness around his face and drew the keys out of his fingers. "I'll drive." She kissed his cheeks.
"Sure?"
"It's the least I could do." When they were settled in the car, Kripa turned the blasting music off knowing he needed peace. And, she wanted to talk to him. "Did everything go fine?" She asked backing out of the parking lot.
"Yes, everything was fine." He reached over and linked fingers with the hands she wasn't using for a moment and pressed his lips against her hand.
She looked at him and realized something was wrong. That the lines of fatigue around his face had to do more than just a long flight and long hours of work.
"Why don't I leave you home, Angad." She said softly. "You look really tired."
"I'll go with you." He wasn't sure what he would have done if he had to stay away for again.
"Sure?"
"Very. We'll go home together whenever we can."
Five hours later, after Olivia had given birth to two little boys, Kripa got back home more tired than she had been in a very long time. There was something odd about Angad. She'd noticed it all night. Noticed the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Or when she suddenly looked his way. Wishing he'd tell her what's wrong himself, without her having to ask, Kripa closed the house door behind her and caught Angad's shirt in her hand and embraced him from the back. She felt his resistance, the stiffening on the muscles in his back. Ignoring it, she pressed a kiss between his shoulders.
"Angad, what's wrong?" She turned him around and looked up at him.
"Nothing. Just tired." He dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead and walked away. She passed a hand down her stomach. How was she going to tell him? What had happened that he was so aloof?
"Why don't I get you something to eat?" She walked in behind him into the bedroom. Trying desperately.
He shook his head. "No burnt down houses," he answered lightly. "Definitely not any burned food." He stripped out of his cloths. She felt his words stab at his heart as he walked into the kitchen.
"I have some left over pizza from yesterday morning." She explained.
"No." He heard the hurt in her voice. Cursing himself he turned around and took her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Kripa. I met Soniya in New York."
"Oh." She slipped her hands into her pockets. "Well. How is she?" She asked lamely.
"Kripa." He brought her into his arms and wrapped his arms tight around her. "She's happy. And, she made me believe that it wasn't my fault."
"Good." She ran her hands down his back. "I missed you, Angad." Shifting her head back she pressed her mouth to his. "I love you," she said, knowing she wasn't to expect anything back.
He ran his hands down her back, over her hips. "I love you, too."
She jerked against him, then her hands, suddenly damp, slid down his back. She stepped away and just stared at him. She looked at him and thought she had only imagined the words. But she'd felt the quite flutter on his breathe against her neck. "I love you." She said again, believing he'd say it back again.
He smiled and cupped her face in his hands, rubbed his thumb over her cheek. Leaning towards her, he skimmed his lips over her eye lids. "I love you, too."
"I've got to be dreaming." She said. Then, reaching over she pinched his arm instead of hers. When he flinched and hissed she laughed. Hooted with it and threw her arms around him. "Tell me again and again. And then again."
He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs easily around his waist. "I love you. I love you. I love you. And, I love you. Now leave me."
"Never." She pressed her lips dead centre of his forehead. "Make love with me, Angad. I waited so long to hear it from you."
He let out a long breath. "You're heavy," he complained and carried her to bed. Wait until I'm blown like a balloon she thought and chuckled at the private thought. He lifted her chin and kissed it. "What?"
"Nothing." Even as he began to undress her, she wondered if he'd noticed anything. No one could yet. She wondered if it would feel any different now that they were linked together with something so special. "What do you think about children?"
"They're cute." He looked at her. "Why?"
She frowned and traced the scar on his chest. "I want one. I want a few actually. When can I have one?"
"Kripa." He kissed her hair, rolled off her and drew her to his side. "Not yet. I want to know you and what we have before we take that next step. Okay?"
Her heart clutched in her chest. "Yeah." She had time yet, to convince him. "Why don't you go to sleep?"
"Well." He looked at her and toyed with the thin white gold chain she was wearing around her neck. "What happen to you, I missed you, I love you, and I want you to make love to me part? The last one anyways."
It was perhaps the first time she'd seen him so free, joking. She laid herself over him and kissed his soundly. "We can do that."
He ran his hands down her back and drew her closer. "Valentines Day in two days."
"Very nice." She said and freed the snap of his jeans. "Do you have special plans?"
"Will you promise you'll leave it to me?"
"Yes. I'll leave it to you." Leaning down she kissed him and tried her best not to think about what he'd said about having kids.
Later, while Angad slept with Kripa's back pressed again his chest, arms around her she felt the exhaustion leave his body slowly. His hand was resting on her stomach. She placed her hand over it and pressed closer. Was it coincidence that his hands had ended there or was it meant to be? Kripa lifted the hand and pressed her lips against his palm. It felt like forever since he had slept so close to him.
He'd met Sonya and it had him saying the three words she'd been dying to hear. He shifted against her and turned away. She sighed and turning herself kissed his shoulder. She saw the faint lines of her own nails there and sighed. There had been a desperation in him. Speed he'd tried to control and had a hard time lashing. He'd meant it when he said he loved her. Angad was the kind of man who didn't use words frivolously. They meant something. Something important. He understood the worth of them. And, she wondered again what Sonya had told him. What must they had spoken about?
Restless, she slid out of bed and dressed in the cloths that were piled in a heap, mixed with Angad's on the floor. Her stomach growled quietly and made her chuckle. If she continued eating like this, very soon she would be fat as a buffalo. She finished buttoning her shirt and opened the fridge. She saw a few uncooked eggs, a small block of cheese, an almost empty carton of milk, some juice. Bread. She sighed.
She turned the lights on and because she knew she wouldn't go back to bed for a few hours, she turned the music on lightly. It was almost like humming. She took out the two eggs and cheese. She could eat a cheese omelette. She cracked the eggs open moments later and poured them into the pan and sprinkled the cheese she had grated quickly. Well, she was becoming good at something she thought as she put the unburned omelette on her plate. She toasted the bread and added butter to it. It was like eating breakfast, just hours before time. She bit into the toast and sighed in pleasure. It had been too long since she had indulged herself like this. Rising, she went to open the fridge and automatically took out the wine. Then stopped. She couldn't have wine anymore, she reminded herself. She was four weeks pregnant and she knew she had to do everything to be healthy for her baby. She eyed the almost empty gallon of milk and found added just a hint of chocolate in it.
Pampering. Hadn't she read something about that from the million books she had bought and left at her mothers house. With a grin, she stabbed her fork into her eggs, took another large gulp of milk, then bit into her toast.
She sighed, ate, and patted her belly. "I'll make sure you pay later." Then she laughed and polished off her first toast and began finishing her eggs.
Angad saw her sitting on the small breakfast bar. He winced as he eyed the over-buttered toast she was biting into. He looked at her face. She must have been starving. He eyed the eggs and noticed they were unburned. Progress. He grinned and slid into the stool beside her.
"Hi." She finished her toast and brushed the crumbs off her mouth. It made him smile. Could she be the same woman he'd just made love to a few hours ago? She looked like a eighteen year old girl with any maybe on, her hair pulled back. Pure pleasure of eating on her face like a baby's.
"Hi, yourself. You're eating at this time?" He tugged the band out of her hair. It looked better down he decided.
"I was hungry. Hey!" She reached to get her cup back and giggled when he made a face.
"Why are you drinking milk? Chocolate milk." He rose and turned on the coffee maker. "Do we have more eggs?"
"No. I have to go shopping. There is left over pizza." She finished the last of her eggs, drained her milk and sighed. "That was excellent." She looked at him and noticed for the first time he wore nothing more than a pair of boxers. Very sexy.
"Hmmm. Do you want a cup?" He asked as he measured the water.
She twisted her lips. Could she had caffeine? She'd read something about limiting intakes. "No." She said finally. "I'm giving up caffeine. For a few months," she added a moment later.
He lifted an eyebrow as he added a small amount of sugar. "Why?"
"Hmm. Just like that." When he slid in beside her she just looked at him. "Do you want something to eat, Angad?"
"No. I'm fine." He sipped and set the cup down cool.
"Okay."
"Are you still doing the little get together? I'll help you with it if you want to. Oh, have you singed anything new?"
"No." She didn't want to. She had enough money in her back account to allow her to live a luxurious life for at least the next two years. She had a house she could put on sale and it would give her enough money just because she had lived in it. More importantly, Angad would be there for her and their baby.
"Are you going to?" He asked and picked up her half eaten toast.
"Are you trying to get rid of me, Slick?" Because her stomach was twisting uneasily, she stood up and went to get herself a glass of water. Set it down and walked away.
"Damn it, you got me." He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. "We'll do that get together for the movie before the release and the night it releases I'm taking you away."
"Are you?" She combed her fingers through his hair. "Where?"
"To our very late honeymoon." He kissed her temple and dropped his head on her shoulder after he kissed her shoulder.
"Okay." She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his neck. Wondering why things seemed so out of place.

EPILOGUE
One year later
Kripa groaned and shifted back into Angad's arms. She didn't want to wake up right now and go see her little son sleeping in his crib. But he was hungry again and she needed to go feed him. But he wasn't crying, she mused. Normally he wept at night when he was hungry.
Content, just a little, she slipped her leg between Angad's and smiled. It was perfect to wake-up at night like this and find him sleeping right there. When she heard her son in the monitor she opened her eyes. And looked at Angad sleeping so peacefully. Well maybe he could wake-up for a change and go see his son.
"Angad!" She brushed her lips over his and made him moan. "Wake-up and go see your son."
"You go." He shifted and turned away from her and earned a slap on his rump. "God damn it, Kripa!" He sat up and scrubbed his face. "Aryan isn't even crying."
"Go see him anyways. He is stirring. Go bring him here so I can feed him. Don't you have some respect for the wife who went through twenty-five hours of labour?" It was all she needed to say to get him moving.
"Damn it!" He stood and went out mumbling. He came back carried their son and cooing at him, with a grin on his face. Kripa smiled at the picture. It always warmed her heart. "He was fully awake and waiting." He sat down in bed and gave him to Kripa. They both watched him turned his mouth to find Kripa's breast.
"He's hungry and he didn't cry this time." She sighed and began unbuttoning her shirt. She didn't know when she would get used to the different ways of him letting her know he was hungry.
"He was awake." Angad lowered his head to Kripa's shoulder, slipped his arms around her while she lifted Aryan. "I can't believe I'm a father."
Once Aryan was busy suckling she turned her head and kissed the top of his head. "I can't believe it either. I love you, Angad."
"I love you, too." He flicked his finger down his sons cheek, then over Kripa's breast. "I love you both."
Kripa smiled and looked down at her son. His eyes were wide open and he was just watching her, his hands lifted in the air in little fists. When he drew his mouth away and nuzzled against Kripa's stomach, she laughed. "Now go back to sleep, love." She shifted him on her shoulder and rubbed her back. It was still thrilling to feel him rub his cheek over her shoulder. It was still amazing to know that this was the baby little child who had been in her stomach for nine months.
"I'll go put him back in bed."
"I'll go with you." Angad said with a grin. "Here." He took his son so Kripa could button her blouse. They both put him in bed together and watched him turn to his stomach to fall asleep.
"He's beautiful." Kripa said leaning her head on Angad's shoulder. She turned into Angad's arms when they were both outside the room and lifted her mouth to his. "He's going to look just like you, one day."
"Hmm." He scooped her up and made her laugh. "When was the last time we made love?"
"Almost nine months." God had it been that long? "Yeah. About that long."

"Since we're awake why don't we make use of it?" He laid her down and kissed her neck.
"That's a great idea, Angad. You're so creative." She grinned at him and rubbed her hand over his cheek. "Now show me how creative you are."
"Trust me, honey. I have a lot planned for you." He winked and lowered his mouth.
"I love you, Slick."
"Hmmm. I love you, too. Let me show you," he said and rolled on the bed with her and made her laugh.