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“Because I want to understand you, Simon. Because... I see the grief and guilt in your eyes and I wonder if you’ll ever let it go. I see you retreat from this, from us every time you think of her or your marriage. Because I’m starting to feel resentment for a woman I didn’t even know.”
Simon stared down at her. But his mouth gave away his shock. “Rani wasn’t a bad person, Anya. She wasn’t the sole reason our marriage fell apart. I was the one who let her down.”
His defense of his late wife felt like a slap to Anya’s emotions. “You keep saying that but not explaining it to me. You keep punishing yourself for whatever it is you think you did and now it feels like you’re punishing me too.”
Now it was his turn to look as if she’d dealt him a punch. “Hurting you is the last thing I want. I... I couldn’t live with myself if I did, Angel. That’s the entire reason...” A curse flew from his mouth.
“Then tell me what it is that you denied her. What...did she want, Simon, that you couldn’t give?”
“She wanted us to try for another baby. She wanted to go through IVF, even though it failed the first time and left her body a mess, even though this time she was a decade older and was already unwell. She wanted to have my child and I said no. I refused to even indulge in a discussion. After that, she retreated from me completely. Just put up a wall I couldn’t break through no matter what I said or did. And that only sent her into a spiral.
The evening before her accident, she asked me one last time and I... I got so angry I let the resentment of two years rip through. She died an hour later.”
Anya stared at him, her heart aching. He was clearly submerged in guilt, in thinking himself responsible for Rani’s lack of happiness. How could she ever hope to break through that? How could she continue with him in the present when he was still so caught up in the past?
“Why did you...?” Her question hovered on her lips, unformed, her throat full of a sadness. “I’m so sorry, Simon.”
He only stared at her, his mouth set into an uncompromising line. “Now tell me the truth, Anya.”
She nodded.
“Tell me that the fact that you might not be here when I get back was just an impulse talking.”
“It wasn’t.”
His mouth tightened. “Tell me that you weren’t going to simply withdraw from me without even giving me a reason.”
“I can’t.”
His question when it came was soft and quiet. As if it was wrenched from the depths of him. “Whatdoyou want from me, Anya?”
Anya stared at him, his face as familiar to her now as her own. At the rugged terrain of his face, his square chin, his broad chest...
“I want—” she rubbed her chest with her hand, feeling as if the ache there might never go away “—I want you to see yourself as I see you—a kind, decent man who’s punishing himself for something he didn’t do. I want you to include me in your plans—even the smallest ones—because you can’t bear to part with me even for a few days. I want you to take this chance on a future with me, even if there are no guarantees. I want...you to let me love you, Simon, because I do...so much.”
Simon simply stared at her, his eyes glittering, his nostrils flaring, his entire body radiating such tension that she thought she should feel it in the air around her like hisses and sparks. Then he glanced away and her heart broke.
And still, she couldn’t stop her words.
She pressed a hand to her head, the headache she’d worried about suddenly materializing with a hard pounding behind her temples. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. Especially when Meera needs you more right now.” Her mouth curved into an inane smile as if she hadn’t already acted completely bonkers in front of him. “You know the astrology app did say something about endings being new beginnings or some such nonsense. Guess now we both know what I’ve been so worried about.”
“Anya—”
“No, please, Simon. Let me keep some dignity intact.” Collecting her portfolio and her watch, this time she shied her gaze away from him. “I’m late for a meeting.”
The week after Simon and Meera left, Anya called Zara and begged her to acquire a pregnancy test for her without anyone else being the wiser.
Her period was late.
In the thirteen years since she’d given birth to Meera, it had always been unpredictable and late. But this was different in a way she couldn’t verbalize. Of course, there was the fact that she’d gained weight in the last few weeks.
The very day they had left, Simon—half asleep and completely wiped out—had wrapped his big palm over her lower belly and whispered, “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve lost the waif look, sweetheart.” His palm had possessively cupped her hip, fingers spreading over the small curve of her belly as if to highlight the fact. Then those long fingers moved up her body and did the same to her breasts before rubbing against her ultrasensitive nipples. “And these, these were my favorite even before they became a little bigger.”
The fact that her bras had started becoming uncomfortable should have told her. But she had attributed her increased appetite and weight gain to the fact that her therapist had reduced the dosage of her anxiety medication.
But now, now she couldn’t bury her head in the sand anymore. Now, it was sheer stupidity to not face the fact that was staring her in the mirror.
Thankfully, Zara didn’t ask her a single question and Anya also knew she wouldn’t whisper a word to Virat unless Anya said it was okay to share. And that Virat, unlike Vikram, would simply let her chew through it all first before he made a big fuss. Not that she could go on for a lot longer without everyone knowing.
