"I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Tell the world I'm coming home
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Tell the world I'm coming...home"
~Diddy-Dirty Money Ft. Skylar Grey
He held her as though no one was watching. As tightly as though he'd never let her go. At this point he didn't care and neither did she. Because they'd both been hiding their love for each other for too long...from each other. So, no one should doubt it now, least of all, themselves.
They shook on it, on their agreement, in complete partnership. Because that was who they were. Partners in life, partners in love. Memories hit them, in shades of grey. Of their fights, their petty arguments and misunderstandings. Their obstinacy and their pride. And their mistakes.
He remembered catching her as she slipped in the bathroom, drenching her in water. Remembering with a wave of reminiscence, their honeymoon, how he'd pulled her into the shower and wondering whether that relived moment was some sort of sign to tell her...to show her all over again how much he really loved her. He hadn't let go, although his anger at her still was telling him to. Because he was just looking at her, and in her eyes, he could see the pain, the love and the hope in them. They mirrored his. And he wanted her. In fact, his gaze at drifted downward at her already parted lips, before the sound of Beeji's voice diverted them from whatever desires he'd been courting in his imagination. And perhaps, it had been best that way, he thought, as he let the water rush over his face to clear his mind, because there had been no telling what he might have done if allowed to remain. Now, that he thought about it, he dearly wished no one had stopped him...because they'd wasted too much time avoiding their real feelings and embracing their hurts instead.
She remembered him tying her dori for her, even though he was clearly still upset with her. His fingers had been so gentle, grazing across her skin, unintentionally provoking wayward thoughts in her. It had been so long since he so willingly, consciously touched her and she ached for him. When he pulled on the dori, she'd caught her breath sharply, as the material tightened because where there was flimsy fabric, all she could imagine was his hands instead. Such a simple, innocent gesture, tying her dori for her...and yet, it sparked something wild within her. He let his hands run down her shoulders to her arms and she turned slowly to face him, unsure of what she or he would do next. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, his mouth opened as though to say something. And she desperately needed him to say something...anything...in order to break this excruciating tension. She wanted him to forgive her, she wanted to forgive him. But, now they had, finally and she could only feel uncontrollably, irresistibly happy.
She realized then that he was still holding her hand, she started to pull it away, but then he grinned and tugged her towards him, closer, closer, before lifting her onto his lap. "I missed you," he whispered into her neck.
"I missed you too," she leaned her head on his, "I should never have left."
"I should have stopped you...I should have never said such hurtful things to you..."
" I said some hurtful things too."
"But, it was my fault, for not trying to understand the situation you were coming from."
"You love your family. That's one of your traits that made me fall in love with you." She bit her lip; rarely was she this open with him, when it came to her feelings for him.
"But, you're my family too. How could I forget that? I almost lost you in the Karan incident and look how close I came to losing you again..." he replied with brutal honesty.
Her guilt went deeper, "And look how close you came to losing one of the closest members in your family because of me."
"She provoked you into telling her the truth. And even I, originally, had thought to tell her. You were the first to tell me to say nothing of it."
"I still should have said nothing...I shouldn't have let her words hurt me," she whispered, sounding agonized.
He looked at her directly, "What exactly did she say to you?"
She looked away, but he brought her face back to his with his hand. He could clearly see the pain in her eyes. "Please, tell me," he pleaded.
Her voice was shaky, "She insulted my parents."
And in that instant, he had not another doubt left in his mind that Jeevika had been innocent in the matter. Her parents meant everything to her. Wasn't that the quality he'd admired most about her when they first met? Her loyalty and love for her family? His aunt had thrown it in her face. And so had he, by not taking the time to understand the situation. He prided himself on being a good lawyer, but he'd thrown logic and reason straight out of the window when he heard Jeevika had told Swamini the truth.
"I'm so sorry-"
"No!" she shook her head fervently, "I should have ignored her."
"If you hadn't, she would have made your life utterly miserable. I think...in a way...it was healthy for her, to know the truth, instead of being stuck in limbo. Because she would have made herself miserable by feeling deceived and uncertain."
"And now she'll be forever miserable anyway, by knowing the truth," she got up, tears running down her cheeks.
"Shhh..." he got up and held her closely, "She won't. Because in truth, was Karan ever really her son? Only by birth. He'd been taken from her and he'd been brought up in darkness and hate. The only thing she can mourn was the man she thought him to be."
Jeevika calmed and he took the moment to hesitantly say, "The nurse was never good to her. She was lazy...and I blamed you for her...that day when she said you had been bothering Badi Maa...that wasn't true."
"The nurse had left her to take a call or something...she was being careless, so I scolded her for it. And I didn't want to enter the room, against your orders, but I was worried for Bua. But, she told you, it was me."
He winced. No matter how much guilt Jeevika was in, he couldn't imagine it could surpass his. Because Jeevika had been emotionally blackmailed. He had been ignorant and despicable for treating her so badly. He'd taken the word of a stranger over hers!
"It's not your fault," she reached up to hold his face. She knew what was going through his mind. "You were terrified and you needed someone to blame. And that was me. I deserved it."
He shook his head. They couldn't keep blaming themselves. They'd forgiven each other...they needed to forgive themselves. And he needed to prove to her exactly how much he loved her.
So he covered her mouth with his hand and said, "I love you. When I'm happy, I love you. When I'm angry, I love you. When I'm with you, I love you. And when we're apart, I love you. And over time, our love has only strengthened. All this has only proved that misunderstandings can't keep us apart ultimately. Because I will always love you."
"I love you too, Virenji." His heart soared.
He kissed her softly, sweetly, his fingers idly playing with the curls in her hair, before he felt her hands wrap around his neck. And that simple movement, that tender acquiescence on her part, was what made him bold. And he no longer cared that they were in her childhood home, that the walls were thin and interruptions were common because he surprised them both by pressing her to the wall from the force of his kisses, dropping the clip that held her hair to the floor and entangling his fingers in its silken feel.
She wasn't quite sure how she'd got there. At one moment, she had been kissing him gently in the middle of the room, the next she was against the wall and it was all unrestrained passion and ardency. And she hadn't been aware of the fact until he'd somehow managed to lift her off of her feet to bring her face level with his. Her hips slid against his in devastatingly slow motion, creating exquisite friction. His warm hands on her heated skin rose from her bare waist, upwards. And then she was back on her feet, but it seemed as though they were no longer acquainted with solid ground and her knees staggered, but he thought nothing of it; picking her up, still kissing her, until the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell, with her atop him.
She couldn't help it, she laughed. He paused, smiling against her lips, "Is kissing me somehow amusing?"
"No," she blushed, "I laughed because I never thought I'd be here now, with you, like this...and I'm happy." She was happy, giddily so. He kissed her again.
"I'm happy too, but I don't laugh when you kiss me," he broke away and raised his eyebrow at her teasingly.
"Well that's good because if you ever did, I would never kiss you again-oh!" He had pulled on her dupatta sharply and she'd felt the coolness of the air on her bare stomach, before it was swiftly replaced by the heat of his lips.
"Virenji!" she managed to gasp out.
"Hmm?" he kissed her hipbone and she nearly let him continue.
"Virenji," she pushed him gently off of her, "Anybody could walk in."
"It's the night!" he protested.
"And they can hear," she reminded him.
"Well...I won't be the one making noise," he pointed out with a teasing grin.
She hit his shoulder, blushing, "Virenji! This is my childhood home."
"I wasn't aware there was a law against being romantic in one's childhood home," he looked saddened, "I suppose that means that we can't continue this in Chandigargh..."
Jeevika buried her face in her hands.
"I'm only teasing," he told her, removing her hands and kissing her forehead, "Come, let's get ready for bed."
She couldn't help a small smile from peeking out.
She felt absolved. Cleansed. By him. All her pain washed away.
She didn't think she could feel any happier when Swamini had asked her to feed her. She'd forgiven her and she loved her still. And she was coming home.
Viren caught her hand in his, as they walked into their home. But, once they had approached their bedroom, he took a swift glance around before making sure no one was there, before scooping her up into his arms in one fluid motion.
"Virenji!" she said, surprised.
He only smiled, kicking the door open, "You left this home without me, now you've entered it with me."
"You didn't have to pick me up," she pointed out, as he carried her into their room.
"True," he lifted her up, so she could lock the door, before approaching the bed, "But, you see, this is how I should have carried you to our room, when we first got married."
"What has that got to do with now?"
He dropped her on the bed and she squealed, as he braced his arms beside her, so not to crush her. "Because I feel like marrying you again. And again. And again. And again."
"You can do that in our next lifetimes together," she teased.
"I will," he replied with confidence, "But, seeing Dabboo getting married made me want to get married again."
"To me, I hope."
He growled, tickling her ribs, "Who else?"
She gasped between laughter, "If I remember correctly, you left me on our wedding night for a case. Shouldn't you be leaving now?"
He smirked, "I'm fixing my mistakes, Mrs. Vadhera."
And he proceeded to make her utterly absolved of fear, guilt, pain. With love.
And she was finally home.
