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Yuvraj knew very well that he could have called his mausi to come and stay with Pratima, but in spite of his doubts and his fears, he couldn't let go of the chance to have Suhani still a part of his life. Even though he kept his distance, plagued by the thought of her with someone else, for now she was still around. He saw her once again bonding with his brothers, including Sharad, he saw her once again feeling affection for his mother and Pratima's joy in having her there. And a part of him equated this with the possibility that she could also once again feel the way she had about himself--not that unthinking devotion so much as love for the flawed person he was.
When Pratima asked Suhani to please stay with her a little longer when they went home to Yuvraj's new house, he knew the countdown had started again. She would leave someday soon. He would be nothing more than a memory, if she ever thought of him. Even if she remembered their past, he now felt that she would just dismiss it, put it behind her. He remembered what Bhavna had said to him, that Suhani had changed. He thought she'd just meant her getting angry more often, as she'd mentioned, but it wasn't just that. She had grown up. And she had put aside some of her conditioning and her extreme niceness, and this he actually quite approved of. She was no longer too good to be true. She was a very real woman, and he loved her to bits, and he was just an option to her, if that.
The evening he brought them to the new house, he went out to thank her again. She looked at him so tenderly, so much like she used to in the old days when he was fifty kinds of fool, that when she reached out to him, he grabbed hold of her, wanting to tell her he loved her, ask her never to leave. She held him, stroking his hair, and he felt his heart would burst. But the ghost of Gautam arose by her side, and he ran away.
But was he going to just bow out? Was he going to be foolish again? He hadn't forgotten what Sharad had said to him: what hadn't Suhani put up with for him? And what had he told Sandip? That if Suhani chose Sandip, he wouldn't make it easy. So why make it easy for Gautam? He knew she met Gautam off and on, that Gautam had a thing about phones (who had a thing about PHONES, he sneered in his head) and rarely called or messaged. He couldn't do anything about her seeing the guy, but for as long as he, Yuvraj, had her around, he would work to make her his. He no longer cared if she was on lovey-dovey terms with someone else. Well, he cared, but it wouldn't make him back down. She felt something for him, too, he felt pretty sure. He would take it from there. Maybe he had grown up too.
The next morning he wanted to meet her before leaving, but she was nowhere in sight. Imagine when she's gone, he thought. It'll be like this every day. How do I go through that again?
When he returned from work that evening, he heard voices from the living room and paused at the door and looked at Suhani, Sharad, and maa playing cards and talking. His family. The lady whom he'd hired to look after his mother, Rachnabai, was sitting in the corner knitting. And, as he went into the room and his mother called Ramesh to make tea (Ramesh had run off from Birla House and insisted on staying here; he too had had to be told about his Suhani didi; the number of people in on this supposed-to-be-a-secret was just increasing), he was drawn into the warmth and thought again of that line about 'every day's most quiet need'. He wasn't a party animal. He was content at home, even left to himself, as long as his loved ones were around.
He went in, kissed his mother, and smiled at Suhani whole-heartedly after ages. She smiled back. "Good mood, today?"
"It's good to have maa home," he said. "It's good to have you here, all of you," he added. He joined them in their game, while Sharad wondered if Guru had fallen into a vat of booze on the way home to suddenly be so mellow. After dinner, and after Pratima had been settled for the night (Rachnabai stayed with her), Yuvraj held out his hand to Suhani and asked her to come for a stroll. Sharad grinned broadly as they went out. Guru had found his brains.
They walked down the avenue, him explaining how to get to the closest shops, where to find conveyance, then he suddenly said, "You should learn driving. I'd teach you, but you'd drive me mad, pun intended, and I love my cars very much and won't risk them." She slapped his arm. "Seriously, d'you want to learn? We can find a school nearby. Okay, I'll teach you. I'll sacrifice one car." At the back of his mind was the idea that maybe the driving lessons could be an excuse to prolong her stay a bit.
She looked at him curiously. "Are you a split personality or something? I know you were worried about your mother, but you've been kind of stand-offish. And you're suddenly your old self. I find it hard to understand you sometimes. What's with you?"
"'I am like that only'," he quoted. "Beware."
Suddenly it was raining buckets. Completely out the blue, without any warning, the skies were streaming water. He pulled her under the most dense of the trees lining the road, pushing her against the trunk, shielding her with his body, while pulling off his jacket. She looked a little alarmed, and he laughed at her expression. "Here, take this. It's thick, not too wet." They huddled there, his arm around her, him feeling it would be okay if the world ended now. On second thoughts, no, not now. There was much more he wanted, and even if it ended badly, he now wanted to take that chance.
When the rain stopped, they headed back home, thinking their own thoughts. As she reached for the door of the house, he stopped her. "Wait, we're wet, our feet are muddy. Let me ask Ramesh to bring out something to clean off with, or we'll track mud in."
She looked at him open-mouthed. "You really are sick, Yuvraj, get help. We're wet. I need to dry off, like NOW, not stand here in the wind indulging your madness. Mud can be cleaned, y'know." She opened the door and walked in, throwing him a look over her shoulder. He muttered to himself as he followed her in that it was not madness to want things orderly. He fetched extra towels, then he went to her room, deliberately knocking and walking in almost simultaneously. She squealed in embarrassment, about to take off her kurti. "You should WAIT after knocking!"
"Sorry," he lied blithely. "Brought you more towels. Here, let me dry your hair."
"Dry yourself, idiot. Have you forgotten you're wet too?"
He said, "Oh, right," and pulled off his T-shirt, feeling very devilish. Maybe he would give her ideas. He rubbed his head, wiped his torso, maintaining eye contact, excited and, for some reason, elated. Then he went to her and rubbed her head. She had been standing clutching the towel to her chest (a very nice chest too, he thought naughtily), staring at him, and suddenly snapped out of it. "Out. Go and do a striptease in your room," she ordered, pushing him out and locking her door.
Oh God, she thought. What was happening here? If she had any sense, she should get far away from Yuvraj Birla, because she certainly shouldn't be nursing the kind of feelings he evoked in her. He just turned on the charm when he pleased and screwed things up. She had tolerated his off-hand behavior by making excuses for him, but she had missed this Yuvraj. And it was this Yuvraj who was dangerous, sexy, irresistible--but resist him she must.
He went to his room grinning and took a hot shower to warm up, though he was plenty warm, he thought, tongue-in-cheek. It would be another of those nights when he tossed and turned, wondering, imagining, thinking of just going to her room, telling her the whole truth, and letting the pieces fall where they may. Why was there so much hiding in his relationship with her? For months he had hidden the truth about their marriage. For months he had protected her from the knowledge of her best friend's icky pursuit of him. He had hidden his feelings, not only from her, but from himself, too. Now it was this uncomfortable circumstance where he had every right to her, but he had to take his chances along with the others who wanted her too. Sandip was by no means forgotten. He had been around while maa was in hospital, and Yuvraj had to admit that he was actually a decent guy. Or maybe he felt more kindly towards him because they shared a common rival.
I want her so bound to me, he thought, that she won't even think of anyone else. How do I make that happen?
Yuvraj knew very well that he could have called his mausi to come and stay with Pratima, but in spite of his doubts and his fears, he couldn't let go of the chance to have Suhani still a part of his life. Even though he kept his distance, plagued by the thought of her with someone else, for now she was still around. He saw her once again bonding with his brothers, including Sharad, he saw her once again feeling affection for his mother and Pratima's joy in having her there. And a part of him equated this with the possibility that she could also once again feel the way she had about himself--not that unthinking devotion so much as love for the flawed person he was.
When Pratima asked Suhani to please stay with her a little longer when they went home to Yuvraj's new house, he knew the countdown had started again. She would leave someday soon. He would be nothing more than a memory, if she ever thought of him. Even if she remembered their past, he now felt that she would just dismiss it, put it behind her. He remembered what Bhavna had said to him, that Suhani had changed. He thought she'd just meant her getting angry more often, as she'd mentioned, but it wasn't just that. She had grown up. And she had put aside some of her conditioning and her extreme niceness, and this he actually quite approved of. She was no longer too good to be true. She was a very real woman, and he loved her to bits, and he was just an option to her, if that.
The evening he brought them to the new house, he went out to thank her again. She looked at him so tenderly, so much like she used to in the old days when he was fifty kinds of fool, that when she reached out to him, he grabbed hold of her, wanting to tell her he loved her, ask her never to leave. She held him, stroking his hair, and he felt his heart would burst. But the ghost of Gautam arose by her side, and he ran away.
But was he going to just bow out? Was he going to be foolish again? He hadn't forgotten what Sharad had said to him: what hadn't Suhani put up with for him? And what had he told Sandip? That if Suhani chose Sandip, he wouldn't make it easy. So why make it easy for Gautam? He knew she met Gautam off and on, that Gautam had a thing about phones (who had a thing about PHONES, he sneered in his head) and rarely called or messaged. He couldn't do anything about her seeing the guy, but for as long as he, Yuvraj, had her around, he would work to make her his. He no longer cared if she was on lovey-dovey terms with someone else. Well, he cared, but it wouldn't make him back down. She felt something for him, too, he felt pretty sure. He would take it from there. Maybe he had grown up too.
The next morning he wanted to meet her before leaving, but she was nowhere in sight. Imagine when she's gone, he thought. It'll be like this every day. How do I go through that again?
When he returned from work that evening, he heard voices from the living room and paused at the door and looked at Suhani, Sharad, and maa playing cards and talking. His family. The lady whom he'd hired to look after his mother, Rachnabai, was sitting in the corner knitting. And, as he went into the room and his mother called Ramesh to make tea (Ramesh had run off from Birla House and insisted on staying here; he too had had to be told about his Suhani didi; the number of people in on this supposed-to-be-a-secret was just increasing), he was drawn into the warmth and thought again of that line about 'every day's most quiet need'. He wasn't a party animal. He was content at home, even left to himself, as long as his loved ones were around.
He went in, kissed his mother, and smiled at Suhani whole-heartedly after ages. She smiled back. "Good mood, today?"
"It's good to have maa home," he said. "It's good to have you here, all of you," he added. He joined them in their game, while Sharad wondered if Guru had fallen into a vat of booze on the way home to suddenly be so mellow. After dinner, and after Pratima had been settled for the night (Rachnabai stayed with her), Yuvraj held out his hand to Suhani and asked her to come for a stroll. Sharad grinned broadly as they went out. Guru had found his brains.
They walked down the avenue, him explaining how to get to the closest shops, where to find conveyance, then he suddenly said, "You should learn driving. I'd teach you, but you'd drive me mad, pun intended, and I love my cars very much and won't risk them." She slapped his arm. "Seriously, d'you want to learn? We can find a school nearby. Okay, I'll teach you. I'll sacrifice one car." At the back of his mind was the idea that maybe the driving lessons could be an excuse to prolong her stay a bit.
She looked at him curiously. "Are you a split personality or something? I know you were worried about your mother, but you've been kind of stand-offish. And you're suddenly your old self. I find it hard to understand you sometimes. What's with you?"
"'I am like that only'," he quoted. "Beware."
Suddenly it was raining buckets. Completely out the blue, without any warning, the skies were streaming water. He pulled her under the most dense of the trees lining the road, pushing her against the trunk, shielding her with his body, while pulling off his jacket. She looked a little alarmed, and he laughed at her expression. "Here, take this. It's thick, not too wet." They huddled there, his arm around her, him feeling it would be okay if the world ended now. On second thoughts, no, not now. There was much more he wanted, and even if it ended badly, he now wanted to take that chance.
When the rain stopped, they headed back home, thinking their own thoughts. As she reached for the door of the house, he stopped her. "Wait, we're wet, our feet are muddy. Let me ask Ramesh to bring out something to clean off with, or we'll track mud in."
She looked at him open-mouthed. "You really are sick, Yuvraj, get help. We're wet. I need to dry off, like NOW, not stand here in the wind indulging your madness. Mud can be cleaned, y'know." She opened the door and walked in, throwing him a look over her shoulder. He muttered to himself as he followed her in that it was not madness to want things orderly. He fetched extra towels, then he went to her room, deliberately knocking and walking in almost simultaneously. She squealed in embarrassment, about to take off her kurti. "You should WAIT after knocking!"
"Sorry," he lied blithely. "Brought you more towels. Here, let me dry your hair."
"Dry yourself, idiot. Have you forgotten you're wet too?"
He said, "Oh, right," and pulled off his T-shirt, feeling very devilish. Maybe he would give her ideas. He rubbed his head, wiped his torso, maintaining eye contact, excited and, for some reason, elated. Then he went to her and rubbed her head. She had been standing clutching the towel to her chest (a very nice chest too, he thought naughtily), staring at him, and suddenly snapped out of it. "Out. Go and do a striptease in your room," she ordered, pushing him out and locking her door.
Oh God, she thought. What was happening here? If she had any sense, she should get far away from Yuvraj Birla, because she certainly shouldn't be nursing the kind of feelings he evoked in her. He just turned on the charm when he pleased and screwed things up. She had tolerated his off-hand behavior by making excuses for him, but she had missed this Yuvraj. And it was this Yuvraj who was dangerous, sexy, irresistible--but resist him she must.
He went to his room grinning and took a hot shower to warm up, though he was plenty warm, he thought, tongue-in-cheek. It would be another of those nights when he tossed and turned, wondering, imagining, thinking of just going to her room, telling her the whole truth, and letting the pieces fall where they may. Why was there so much hiding in his relationship with her? For months he had hidden the truth about their marriage. For months he had protected her from the knowledge of her best friend's icky pursuit of him. He had hidden his feelings, not only from her, but from himself, too. Now it was this uncomfortable circumstance where he had every right to her, but he had to take his chances along with the others who wanted her too. Sandip was by no means forgotten. He had been around while maa was in hospital, and Yuvraj had to admit that he was actually a decent guy. Or maybe he felt more kindly towards him because they shared a common rival.
I want her so bound to me, he thought, that she won't even think of anyone else. How do I make that happen?
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