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ZARAARRIVEDATthe audio release party being held at a sprawling luxury resort, another property that Virat had invested in, her belly full of fluttering butterflies.
Since Virat was flying in at the last minute from God knows where, there hadn’t been a need for them to arrive together. Instead, she happily joined Vikram and Naina, even though the both of them kept stealing glances at her face. That she had fainted the other afternoon was news she couldn’t have kept to herself.
The only mitigating factor had been that Virat had already left. She’d had a reprieve to deal with everything. Before she had to face him again.
She’d seen him on set for the last week of the shoot, and for the impromptu wrap-up party Vikram had arranged for the team. Thanks to their crazy schedules, she and Virat hadn’t had the time or the need to act all lovey-dovey in front of others.
Ten days after their argument, she was less hurt with his impression of her and the past, and more...angry at herself. Not explaining about her marriage and its aftermath, and then running away from what he’d made her feel the last time around was what had caused all this. She’d opened the door to allow in Vandana’s manipulation and lies.
Not that he was without fault. But then, Zara also knew how deep old wounds could run. How they twisted and corrupted everything that was good in life.
She was done running. From him or herself. Especially now.
She was pregnant. With Virat’s child.
Nearly six weeks along. And thanks to the intense cardio regimen and sixteen-hour workdays, she’d been completely unaware of the changes in her own body. At least, the lack of hunger and the exhaustion all made sense now.
Three days later, she still couldn’t manage her emotions at what her blood test had finally confirmed. Elation sent her swinging high one moment, and then the idea of confronting Virat with the truth sending her mood dipping low the next.
Like a coward, she’d even indulged in the idea of skipping this release party in its entirety. She could have claimed she was feeling unwell and it wouldn’t have been a complete lie.
But she also knew she had to face Virat soon. She was wary of his reaction, yes, but this wasn’t something she wanted to hide from him. No more evasions, no more lies between them.
No expectations. She kept whispering that as her mantra. Whatever his reaction, she wasn’t going to be surprised by it.
The last thing she wanted was to force him into a role he wasn’t ready for, to somehow ingratiate herself into his life in this way. But she did want to share it with him first. She wanted to share everything she was feeling, she wanted to...
No, Zara! No expectations, remember?
The audio release was the first in a chain of PR events that were still to come, to build the buzz for the film’s release in three months. While the schedule had overwhelmed her, Zara was glad of the extended leave she’d scheduled for herself at the end of the biopic’s production.
Today’s event also constituted the first look at the stills from the film and a trailer. It had exceeded even the stir that Virat and Vikram had hoped to cause. She couldn’t remember the number of people—both familiar and unfamiliar—that she had smiled at, or shaken hands with, or accepted congratulations from. The movie trailer had spurred such an applause from the audience that it was still ringing in her ears.
Even though she’d been present for the last week of filming as Virat had pushed and pushed both Vikram and her to do better, the trailer was still a shock. Her performance, even in the forty-five seconds she had in the trailer, was breath-stealing.
Her gaze had automatically sought his in the darkened auditorium as if tugged toward him.
There was no smile on his lips as he held her gaze. Not after they’d had to embrace and laugh and kiss each other on stage, to please the crowd. Not when within moments of touching, they’d lost themselves in each other.
Not when the possibility of something real and raw danced into life every time their eyes met. When it was clear that for all their arguments, nothing had changed between them.
And yet everything had changed.
Zara sat back into her chair and closed her eyes. Praying to God for composure for just a little longer.
The lights came back on, and onstage, Vikram talked about how the project was a culmination of years of thought and effort—a homage to his grandfather Vijay Raawal. A continuation of the prestigious Raawal legacy.
Zara felt a sudden flush claim her skin and she laid a hand on her still-flat belly. Her child would now also be a part of that legacy. Her child would be...
When Virat arrived on the stage, there was a feverish anticipation in the crowd. And while he thanked his brother for giving him the opportunity to direct such a masterpiece, and said Vijay Raawal was an inspiration to everyone in the film industry, he didn’t mention the Raawal family or his place in the legacy at all.
Making Zara wonder yet again how he would take her news after all. Reminding her that she’d tangled with a man who’d always forged his own path.
But before he left the stage, Virat thanked each and every technician and staff member for putting up with him.
Zara clapped the hardest, feeling a profound gratitude and a strange pride in him. As if he belonged to her.
Even now, as she circulated among the glitterati who had been fortunate enough to get the first glimpse of the magnum opus of the Raawal House of Cinema, she couldn’t believe what she had seen with her own eyes.
