Changing Shades - 22

Chapter 22

Arnav parked his car, and walked into the meadow overlooking the block of flats, where he had first talked to her.

He saw her almost at once. She was sitting near a tree some way off, her knees drawn up, and her head resting on them. Her feet were bare, her sandals kicked off and lying near her on the grass. Her beautiful eyes looked unseeingly into the distance. 

She didn't notice him until he was just a couple of feet away. He came up to her, looking at her steadily, his gaze never leaving hers. She met it unflinchingly, but her expression was impossible to read.

He sat down, not too close. She looked at him, but didn't say anything. He looked steadily back at her, his eyes warm. She looked away after a while, and spoke, so softly, that he had to strain to catch her words.

“You knew I would be here, didn’t you?”

Arnav nodded. His fingers played idly with a blade of grass.

“Deja vu, isn't it, Khushi? It was a meadow very much like this one, where I asked you to marry me the first time, what was it, four? five years ago? Where I asked you if you were happy. If you knew what you wanted.”

Khushi nodded. She was silent for a while, then she spoke again. Her fingers twisted the dupatta of her salwar suit, crushing the flimsy material between them, but that was the only outward sign of her turmoil. Her voice was even softer when she spoke again.

“I didn't know what I wanted then,” she said slowly, hesitantly. “Not till you forced me to face myself. And then, too, I couldn't follow my own feelings. I had to choose between duty and love. I had to make that choice, Arnav.”

She turned then to look at him. Her tone was pleading, as though she was asking for his understanding.

"I had to choose, Arnav," she repeated. "And I really didn't have a choice." 

He put his hands over hers, stilling their nervous movements. His eyes were warm, reassuring.

“I know that, Khushi,” he said softly. “I know that, now, and I understand why you did what you did. It’s all right.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head ... wanting him to understand, to know. “You don’t understand, Arnav. I did try. The day after … the picnic, I … I knew I loved you, and I couldn’t go through with it, with marrying Manish. I thought I’d tell mummy … she’d always been so close to me, I knew she would understand. But when I went to the house to tell her, baba’s doctor had come. I heard him tell mummy that baba’s BP was so much better – that the marriage was helping him, keeping him going – he was taking his medicines on time, doing his exercise, diet, everything … waiting, and hoping that our marriage would be the making of Manish … and the doctor said, now don’t postpone this marriage even by a single day … it will kill him …”

She stopped, swallowed and looked at Arnav again.

“What could I have done?” she asked him softly. “Arnav, what could I have done?”

Nothing, he thought regretfully ... nothing, except what she had eventually done. Knowing her the way he did, knowing the whole story of her relationship with Manish and his parents, she had really had no choice. Between duty and love, love hadn’t stood a chance. And if she had tried, and that stroke had happened five years ago to Manish’s father, their – Arnav and Khushi’s - relationship wouldn’t have stood a chance. Today, having seen with his own eyes, the relationship between her and Manish’s parents, he understood - more clearly than he ever had.

“I wish you’d told me,” he said softly, sadly. “I wish I’d known, wish I’d listened. Khushi, can’t we put it all behind us? It’s been a nightmare, but it’s over now. I never forgot you, Khushi, however much I tried, but I couldn’t. That’s why I was so bitter with you, so angry. Seeing you again …one look at you and I knew … I’d never gotten over you and never would. And still thinking you were with Manish …”

He came close and held her hand tightly and she felt the pain he had gone through, knowing he still loved her, but thinking she was still married, thinking his feelings illicit, impossible … his own impotence and frustrations had made him lash out at her. She looked up at him, now so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Khushi, from now on, it will be whatever you say. Tell me what you want. Five years ago, you made a decision …one you had to make. Today, you have to make another decision. But this time, you decide - what you want, what will make you happy. This time no one else matters, Khushi, only you. But all I want to tell you, is that this time, if you turn me down, I'm not going to walk out of your life. I'm going to stay around and wait, all my life, if necessary, for you. I’ll be here for you – in whatever way you want, for however long you want. I've waited too long for you, and lost you once. Now that I've found you, I won’t lose you again.”

Khushi's eyes filled. She stood up and faced him, her hands clenched in front of her, in an unconsciously pleading gesture.

“I chose duty once, Arnav. Haven't I earned some happiness now?”

He stood too, and came close to her, not touching her.

“What do you think?” he asked, softly. “What do you want, Khushi? Where is your happiness? If you're happier on your own, so be it. If your happiness is with me, for God's sake, Khushi, say yes. Say yes this time. Just … follow your heart.”

Tears were in her eyes, and on her cheeks as she gazed at him, and he took her hands in his.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I love you and always will. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, travel life’s journey with you next to me, with me always, standing beside me, matching me step to step. I want to hold your hand every step of the way. I want to grow old with you, till we sit on our rocking chairs on our porch, watching the sunset and grumbling about our scamp of a son, so like his father, marvelling at our daughter, beautiful like her mother …”

She gave a little laugh which broke in the middle.

“Why are you calling my son a scamp?” she protested softly, in a voice that was not quite steady. “He’ll be strong and handsome and loving … like his father. Arnav …”

And then she was in his arms, clinging to him, his arms were around her crushing her to him as though he would never let her go, her face buried in his shoulder. He held her tightly, fiercely, as a tidal wave of relief and sheer love swept through him, as she filled his arms … and his heart.

After a long time he raised his head and his eyes were suspiciously bright. They moved apart and he held her hands in his tightly.

“Marry me?” he said, his voice husky, urgent. “Please? I don’t want to live without you any longer.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh yes. I can’t live without you any more either, Arnav” she confessed, her tears slipping down her cheeks, and he let out a long sigh and took her into his arms again. He raised her face to his, gently wiping away her tears, and kissed her, a kiss of promise, of hope and of love … for the rest of their lives.