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He heard the laughter and shouts before he entered the makeshift tent that had been erected for the crew to rest during outdoor shoots on hot days. Bending his head to get through the low arch, he walked in to find a center table decorated with cake and candles and balloons. There were almost fifty crew members circulating with drinks in hand.
Simon was about to ask Vikram—he and the older Raawal had made peace of sorts—when he saw the flash of a smile and an elegant hand with a leather strip in it that he knew was Anya.
She was standing with a young, brawny actor—the same so-called stud that Meera had talked about before. Simon knew because he’d gone on set the next day to find out. The man clenched his arm so that his muscled bicep was on glorious display while Anya was checking the leather thong on the arm straps that were part of the costume.
Every time he flexed his bicep—and he did it a few times—the strap loosened and Anya tried to buckle it up again. With a laugh, the actor pointed to the same kind of bands he wore on his wrists, ankles and even thighs.
It was the first time in his life that Simon felt the taste of possessiveness and jealousy curl on his tongue.
“She’s not as fragile as she looks.”
He’d been so immersed in watching Anya that he hadn’t even realized that Virat had walked up to him. “I know that.”
“Then why do you look at her with such wariness in your eyes?”
Simon stayed silent for a beat too long to deny it.
Apparently, Virat was more discreet than his brother for he didn’t push Simon. “I’ve never seen Anya this happy. This...excited about life in general. Her work has reached a new level of brilliance. I never did believe in the whole ‘suffering creates better art’ nonsense.”
Simon swallowed his token protest and waited. He hadn’t even realized he needed to hear this. Hadn’t realized how deep and raw a wound Rani’s silence and her unhappiness and her retreat had carved in him.
As if sensing this, Virat continued. “I can’t tell you the number of years Vikram and I spent trying to get her to celebrate her birthday in a big way, to coax her out of her shell. And yet, this year, she ordered the cake and balloons for herself, and she invited the crew. She’s even invited our parents when she usually tries her best to avoid them. I think my sister’s finally celebrating who she’s become.”
Simon could see the joy written plainly over Anya’s face. Something that made his own chest expansive and full. “That could have been to do with finding Meera again.”
Virat turned to face him and Simon was forced to do so too. As much as he liked to keep the Raawal brothers at a distance—the reason being how protective he felt about not only Meera but Anya too—he’d discovered in the last fortnight that he genuinely liked both men. For all they’d been born with silver spoons and a legacy, they had also borne a lot of burdens along the way and had hearts of gold. Their choice in wives spoke most volubly for both of them.
“You and I both know that’s only half the reason, Simon. Neither Vikram nor I can overlook the fact that you made the hardest thing in her life easier for her to face. That you’ve been supportive and kind during every step of the way for Anya. I can’t tell you how grateful we are to see her this happy, and to see Meera flourish.”
His heart felt as if it might explode out of his heart. “I only want Meera’s happiness. And... Anya’s.”
“And yet you still doubt that it lies with you?”
Simon said the words that had been sitting on his chest like a bag of rocks for days now. Even weeks. “Anya has been through a lot already. She’s told me about her anxiety and I’ve seen her panic attacks. She’s still so young and—”
“And you think that somehow makes her less of a person?” Virat bit out, jaw tight. “Did I mistake you for a better man, Simon?”
“Of course it doesn’t make her any less. She has so much to give despite everything, such fire and courage...don’t think for one second I don’t see her as she really is, Virat.” Simon searched for the right words. “But you have to understand that I... The thought of having her happiness in my hands, the thought of hurting her in any way...the very thought of being the reason Anya loses out on something she truly deserves...” Simon hated speaking the words aloud but he did it anyway. He needed the reminder these days. “I hate to agree that Vikram’s right, but I am older than her and there are some things that my life experience has taught me to be wary of. Some things that I’m incapable of giving at this point in my life. I’m jaded and at the risk of sounding like a quitter, I’m not sure I’m the right person to deal with...fragile things. That young show-off, as much as I hate him pawing at your sister, is probably a better man for her than I am.”
“No wonder my brother likes you so much beneath all the bluster he aims at you... You’re both cut from the same overprotective, overthinking cloth.” Virat looked at Anya, who’d clearly noticed them chatting and was heading their way. He bent forward and gripped Simon’s shoulder hard. “Don’t undercut her like that. Not when she’s just found her wings. There’s nothing more arrogant than assuming you’re responsible for someone’s happiness. Especially when it’s the woman you just admitted to seeing and admiring. Don’t coat your cowardice, your fears with her imagined flaws, Simon. Believe me, I did that once, and I almost lost Zara.”
Simon stared at Virat’s retreating back, his words reverberating through him.
Was it arrogant to believe he would become responsible for Anya’s happiness if he took this any further? Was he doing her an injustice thinking he knew better for her than she herself did? Was he wrong about the state of his marriage to Rani there at the end too?
He scrubbed a hand down his face just as Anya tapped him on the arm. “Hey. Is everything okay? Did Virat say something he shouldn’t?”
Simon faced her and shook his head. “No. I think I got a dose of why the critics call him a blunt but brilliant filmmaker.”
She didn’t look convinced but she nodded. “What are you doing here? Meera’s spending the night with Zara’s sister who’s visiting. I checked on them again before I came down.”
“I came to find my errant girlfriend.”
The bright shine in her gaze went straight to his head. “Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you invite me to the celebration?” he said, waving an arm in the direction of the cake and the balloons.
“I know how much you dislike hanging out with the movie crew. I didn’t want to force you to do it after-hours too.”
