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Chapter 16: Part I
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The early-morning sun peeked
through the fluttering curtains. The chirping of birds and movement in the home
could be heard in the silent bedroom. His moves economical, Maan put on his cream-colored
vest and pulled a dark tie over his head. Tightening the knot, he gave one
final glance in the mirror, ensuring that all was impeccable before striding
out of the room. He was already on his phone, barking orders at Adi before he
had stepped through the doorway. "No, Adi. I want you to schedule an
appointment with the Saxenas in the afternoon, and Mr. Khanna in the
evening." Entering the empty dining room, he sat down at the head of the
table. Eyeing the spread laid out before him, he grabbed a piece of toast, biting
it, before turning back to the voice on the other end of the line. "No,
not the prints. We need to work on-"
The phone was pulled from
his hand abruptly. Maan turned to glare at the person who had dared to take the
cell, ready to rain thunder on the individual. His eyes widened in disbelief
when he saw the woman standing in front of him.
"Maan! Not at the
dining table. This is family time! Even if there isn't much of your family
around yet," she finished ruefully, glancing up the stairs. She cupped her
hands around her mouth. "Oi! Hello up there! Why aren't you down here
yet?"
"Coming!" came the
reply from his missing son.
Maan stared at the fragile hand
still clenched around his cell phone, jumping slightly when she shouted. "What?
Geet?" Or he tried to speak, but he seemed to have lost his voice. His eyes
narrowed, trying to understand what was going on. How could Geet be ...?
She pulled back a little bit
and flashed him another happy smile. She posed for him and looked down at
herself before looking at him enquiringly once more.
He shook his head in
confusion. "What?" he finally asked, leaning back and folding his
arms over his chest. "What are you talking about Miss Handa?" he barked
at her, his confusion growing by the minute.
"Miss Handa, huh?"
she murmured teasingly, crossing her
arms over her chest, as well. "Aren't we being formal today? Well, Mr.
Khurana," she murmured, moving closer, "you know that I haven't been
Ms. Handa for a very long time," she finished, by now whispering into his
ear. "Not since you made me your Mrs."
"My Mrs. what?!"
he demanded, flinching slightly as her moist breath touched his ear. He
stiffened when he felt her hands moving up his arms. He then felt her arms wrap
around his neck gently, enclosing him in her warmth. He choked, attempting to
pull away, but he couldn't seem to move. His lids fell slightly, as he fell
under the spell of her touch. Her cheek, her silky skin, came to rest against
his. He inhaled deeply, taking in that sweet scent that was uniquely Geet's,
allowing himself to rest for just a moment in her arms.
"Mrs. Khurana, there's
a phone call for you," an embarrassed male voice intruded from the side,
distracting Maan before he could fall further under her spell.
'What
the hell are you doing?!!' The mental shout pulled him back from
the precipice. Jerking away from Geet, he looked around frantically for Dadi
Ma. But no, that had been his own voice . . . his own conscience berating him.
Dadi Ma wasn't here. If his Dadi Ma had been here, how would he explain this
scene to her?
"Ranjeev, I've told you
to call me Geet Ma'am. The way everyone does around here. No one calls us Mrs.
Khurana in this household," she admonished lightly, before taking the
phone from the servant. She waved him away before beginning to talk on the
phone.
Maan's jaw dropped when he
realized that the man was calling Geet Mrs. Khurana. He looked around, trying
to figure out what was going on. Was this some sort of prank that Geet was
playing on him with Dadi Ma? Were the two, along with all the servants,
colluding together to make a fool out of him?
"Hi, Pari. Yes. Really?
Okay. I'll see you in an hour," she said before hanging up.
Maan stared down at the food
on his plate, glaring at the now congealed eggs. Just what was going on? Where
was Dadi Ma? Was she laughing at him from some corner. He glanced around once
more, growing more irritated at his own confusion.
"Maan! Look at me!"
Geet demanded.
"Since when has she
started to leave off the Sir?" he muttered near silently to himself, still
searching for his elusive grandmother.
So?" Geet asked again, coming
back to stand in front of him. She grabbed him by the chin, pinching the flesh
lightly, and turned his eyes back to her. "Well?"
Maan gazed at her intently,
but could only be mesmerized by her radiant beauty. It was enough of a
distraction that he couldn't formulate a thought to save himself. "I don't see anything," Maan finally
muttered in reply. 'Besides how beautiful
you are,' he begrudgingly thought to himself. "What am I supposed to
be seeing?"
"Maan, you are such a
man!" Geet murmured in vexation. "Look at me!"
"I've done nothing but
look since you came to our home!" he growled back. 'What the hell did you just say?!" he shouted at himself,
mortified by his outburst.
"At what I'm wearing,"
she replied, unfazed by his temper or his admission.
His eyes moved over her body,
finally taking in for the first time that she was wearing a sari. He'd never
seen her in sari. A silvery-white piece of art that molded to her body lovingly,
accentuating her beauty even more. Her arms and shoulders bare. Flashes of her
belly. Her upper back, as she turned to throw a glance up the stairs. Geet had
always been beautiful. It was a beauty he had found hard to ignore.
But now . . . she was
ethereal. A goddess in human form.
His body tightened as he
fought the surge of emotions welling up inside of him.
The jewelry around her neck
caught his eye, and he was unwillingly fascinated by the intricacy of the
necklace. Her hand came up to touch it nervously before falling away.
She smiled at him. "It
matches my ring," she said softly. "Thank you," she whispered.
She walked over to him and leaned down. Maan's eyes wandered up her body to land
on her face, which now seemed to be too close. His eyes widened at the emotion
he saw in her eyes, He felt her breath against his lips, her sweet scent
wrapping around him once more. And just like that, he fell under her spell once
more. She leaned in a little more and planted a soft kiss against his lips.
"You look
beautiful," he muttered, watching her move to the other side of the table.
"Absolutely beautiful." He cleared his throat, disconcerted by the
compliment that had escaped.
He glanced around once more.
His eyes going to the window through which the sun peeked. The picture on the
wall had his eyes widening again. He heard the shrieks of the children from the
floor above. He gazed at the woman sitting across from him, his heart clenching
at the love in her eyes. It scared him how much he wanted that to be true. Dadi
Ma wasn't here. She was still on her pilgrimage. Sitting back in his chair, he
closed his eyes.
A dream. It was all a dream.
He exhaled silently.
"Thank you," she
said, her voice distracting him from his disappointment. Geet sat down and pulled
a plate of apples toward her. She began to peel them.
"But you know . .
.," he burst out.
She gazed at him
questioningly.
"You are never wearing
that sari in public," he said sternly. "This beauty is-"
"Only for my
eyes," Geet finished with a roll of her eyes. "Maan stop being so
selfish. The world-"
"Deserves to see my
beauty," he finished drily for her. He froze for a moment. 'Now, how did I know what she would say?'
He felt himself falling deeper into this oddly compelling dream. And he didn't
want to fight it.
She laughed delightedly and
reached out to pinch his cheek.
There was joyous laughter
coming from upstairs. The two glanced up and then smiled at each other.
"The kids are having
fun," he commented, watching her push the apples toward him.
"Eat," she
commanded. "Well, it's not often they have a chance to play with their
cousins. So, I'll let them be a little late for breakfast."
Cousins? He sat back,
wondering at that. Which cousins? Who were the parents?
"And of course our three,"
she murmured. "Soon to be . . . four," she whispered, placing a hand
over her womb.
He choked on a bite of
apple. "Four?" he gasped, once he was able to get the words out.
"Four," she
confirmed. "I just hope it's a girl this ti-"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Ooph," he
muttered, as something landed on his bed, shaking the world around him. It was
enough to pull him from his sleep.
"Daddy! Wake up!"
Rahul grumbled, shaking him.
"Rahul," a voice
whispered fiercely from the other side of the room. Maan assumed that it was
coming from the doorway to Rahul's room. "I told you not to bother your
father."
"But, Geet Didi,"
Rahul whined. "You said ..."
"Rahul, come here,
please," Geet whispered back. "Your father was up all night working
on his projects with Adi Jeeja Ji and Pari. You know this was the second night
they have done this. Don't you remember Pinky Didi was here the night before
last? We even played games until you fell asleep. Last night they went to sleep
at 4:00 AM. He needs more sleep!"
There was a moment of
silence. "How did you know that Geet Didi?" Rahul asked
inquisitively. "Were you spying on them while I was sleeping? Weren't you
bored?"
"Never mind how I
know," Geet shot back. "Now come over here and stop bothering your
daddy. You think I don't know that you're hoping that he will wake up with you
talking over his head?"
"Well, he should get up
by now," Rahul muttered, getting off the bed. He stomped over to Geet, his
arms crossed over his chest. "Why should he get to sleep when I'm
awake?"
Maan watched the two of them
walk through the door, his eyes lingering on Geet's figure, looking angelic in
white. He nestled deeper into the pillow, and sleepily smiled at Geet when she took
one final peek in his direction.
She gasped lightly when
their eyes met and flushed a rosy red. Turning around, she scampered through
the door and snapped it shut behind her.
Maan closed his eyes, tempted
to go back to sleep and dream a little more. It had been a dream. A good dream. A wonderful dream. And seeing Geet first
thing in the morning had been the icing on the cake. He closed his eyes,
wondering when he had fallen so deeply. He opened them once more to gaze at the
door that they had walked through.
"Can't she be my mommy?" Rahul's words,
when he asked him that question two nights ago, still rang in his ears. He'd
seen the trepidation his son had felt in asking. He had also seen the hope. The
last two nights he had worked hard and kept himself distracted. Maan had fought
the truth, but he didn't want to anymore. It wouldn't work anyways. She was in
his mind . . . she'd claimed a part of his soul.
He wanted to love without fear. He wanted to give someone his trust and know
that he wouldn't receive betrayal in return. He wanted to go to sleep every
night with her in his arms. He wanted to meet her in his dreams. He wanted to
see her every morning. He wanted . . .
"I want Geet," he softly admitted to himself.
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"Maan beta, there you
are," Dadi Ma said, leaning up to plant a kiss against his cheek. "It
feels like I haven't seen in you forever," she commented, hugging him
tightly before stepping back. "Let's eat breakfast. Geet beta and Rahul
are already at the table. You came down a little late this morning?" she
asked questioningly, as they walked toward the dining table.
His phone rang, and he
automatically reached for it. But then . . . staring at the people waiting at
the table for him, he pulled the phone out and turned it off.
This was family time.
"I just decided to have
a lie in," he answered quickly, intent on asking the questions that he
needed answered. "Dadi Ma, when did you come back home?" Maan demanded,
gazing down at his smiling grandmother. "Weren't you supposed to come back
this evening? If you had said something, I could have come to pick you up from
the airport."
"You didn't need to do
that, Maan beta," Dadi Ma assured him. "As for why I came home early
. . . let's just say that I got the answers I needed," Dadi Ma replied
gently. "I thought it was time to come home." She stared around the
dining room, her eyes moving over the cream-colored walls and the flowers that
cheered up the room. "I see that Geet has taken good care of the house and
both of you while I was gone. I knew that I could trust her to keep my home
safe."
Maan's eyes went to Geet
before flitting away.
"Maan, I was thinking
that we should have a party," his grandmother said suddenly.
"Party? Why?" Maan
asked, gazing quizzically at his grandmother.
"Since when have the
Khuranas needed a reason to have a party?" Dadi Ma replied with a smile.
"I just think we need to have this party. A reason to celebrate. It's
important," she stressed the words.
"Why is it so
important, Dadi Ma?" he asked quietly, leaning in to hear his
grandmother's answer.
"I had a dream."
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. As always, I will finish this fanfic, but
expect long delays in between the updates. I update when my
availability, inspiration and motivation all align.
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Chapter 17: Kurbaan Hua, Part II
Edited by darkice7_12 - 10 years ago
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