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Authors: Nikita Singh

After All This Time (13 page)

BOOK: After All This Time
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‘I did not mean to hurt you the way I did . . . Shourya . . .’ her voice trembled.

‘I know. I know,’ Shourya nodded, moving away. He started pacing the floor. ‘But you did. I know you were only seventeen and you had a lot to deal with. But I was seventeen too! And when I lost you . . . You said we would keep in touch, that we would talk all the time,’ he said, barely able to keep the accusation out of his tone. ‘It took you a week to give me your number! And afterwards you never answered my calls or texts. You cut me off completely. Do you know what I went through? Do you have any idea? You were alone in a foreign country, you knew no one there, and you wouldn’t talk to me or your parents—I was worried sick about you.’

‘But I told you not to worry. I was okay. I took care of myself.’

‘Yes, but
I
didn’t know that! I missed you terribly. All I could think of was finding a way to be with you. Getting into Harvard seemed the best way to do that. I hadn’t taken any entrance exams or anything—I didn’t even know what course I would study. When the engineering entrance results came out, Dad made me join college. That was when I started planning for a master’s at Harvard. It was a misguided plan from the very beginning.’ Shourya looked up and released a long breath. ‘And then I met Deepti. I made the same mistake that I’d made with you; I made her my life. But I wasn’t like you. I could not leave her behind when college ended. She had not planned for her future after graduating, so I gave her a plan.’

Shourya stopped walking and stood in front of Lavanya, who was sobbing softly into her hands, facing away from him.

‘You do not get to make my decisions when it comes to Deepti. You’re no better than her. Both of you did the same thing to me. You could call what she did worse, you could use the words
cheating
and
betraying
and
rejecting
, but it felt the same to me. You chose something else over me too. You betrayed me too. I felt abandoned and rejected by both of you, and it was heart-breaking for me both times, but with her, at least I had some experience.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry . . .’ Lavanya’s arms were wrapped tightly around her body. It was as if she was holding herself together lest she shatter into a million pieces. Her head was bowed, her hair falling around her face, hiding it from view.

Shourya looked away from her. He could not bear knowing he was the reason she was in so much pain. Yet the words came out before he could stop them. ‘At least she came back. At least she loved me back. You . . . you wouldn’t even have talked to me again had I not come to meet you that day at the grocery store. When we met, it was as if nothing had ever gone wrong between us. We picked up right where we had left off. But what happens when this vacation is over? Two more weeks and then you’ll return to your life and I to mine. Will I ever hear from you again? You keep telling me that I should not trust Deepti. Then tell me: Whom to trust? You? You, with your secrets and running away. All you have ever thought about is yourself. At least Deepti realizes what she did. If I can’t trust her, then I should never trust you. You are ten times worse . . . you hurt me ten times more.’

12

Lavanya had nothing to say in her defence. She did not even try to control the sobs that were shaking her body and the tears that dampened her sari. She scratched her face, trying to wipe it with the pallu of her sari, which was heavily embellished with sequins. She gave up and let the tears flow freely down her face.

This was Shourya. She did not need to put up a front for him. If it affected her, she could show him. She did not have to pretend to be strong with him. It was liberating. However, it did not help her feel any less like a monster.

She could feel the anger emanating from Shourya as he sat on the other end of the bed, looking away from her, his back stiff. She was already crying more than she had in years, but something inside of her needed a larger outlet. Tears were not making her feel any better. She wanted to tell him about her disease. She wanted to open up to him and tell him what she was going through. But just when she thought she could not keep it in any more, there was a knock on his door, and Shourya was called out for Shreela’s bidaayi. He left the room without even turning to look at her.

Lavanya got up from the bed and went to the attached bathroom. The water that she splashed on her face was freezing and made her teeth clatter. She took her time with it though, washing away her make-up, letting the chill spread over her face till it was numb and the water ceased to feel cold. The towel she used to wipe her face smelled of Shourya.

He was right. She was selfish. She had always been. She had only thought of her own problems and tried to find a way to solve them. And running away was the only solution that had presented itself. After she had left the country, she had gone through hell. She had needed him desperately, and she knew he missed her too, but she did not want to be tied to her past any longer. She needed to move on. As did he. Lavanya had never thought she would return to India, and could not keep hurting him and herself by maintaining a friendship from thousands of miles away. She had cut him off intentionally, so he could have a life without her and the troubles she inevitably brought with her. He did not need all of her baggage bringing him down. She had stopped speaking to him so that he could move on.

And he had. He had found Deepti and he had been happy for a time; he had loved, and been loved back.

Maybe Shourya was right, maybe he should give Deepti another chance. Lavanya’s intense protectiveness towards him should not stop him from having a real chance at happiness . . . with Deepti.

Lavanya wanted to cry. She was crying already, but she . . . wanted to cry. She wanted to let it all out, but she could not help but feel that no amount of tears would be able to quench the intense feeling of helplessness . . . and hopelessness within her.

A deadly disease was on its way to killing her. Shourya might be getting back with his ex. And judging by the things he’d said, he might not even want to talk to her again. This could quite easily be the worst time to realize she was in love.

Of course she loved Shourya. She had always loved him.

Lavanya felt suffocated. She wanted to get out of there. Like always, she wanted to run away from her problems. As she opened the bathroom door to get out, a T-shirt hanging behind it on a hook grazed her face. It was the blue one he had been wearing the day he had come to teach her how to play the guitar. She took it down from the hook, rolled it up and shoved it into her handbag.

There was a crowd gathered at the front gate to see off the bride, so she left through the back exit of the Kapoors’ house. Lavanya had not said her goodbyes to Shreela and Manav, but that was the least of her concerns.

By the time she reached home, half an hour later, her feet had several cuts on them. She had tried to walk on the uneven roads for the first ten minutes, but it had proved impossible to run in five-inch pencil heels. She had given up and taken them off. People were staring at her, but at least it was still very early in the morning and there weren’t many people on the road.

As soon as she opened the front door, Toughy jumped on her excitedly. Lavanya pulled him up to her chest and fell to her knees, weeping into his neck. Toughy whimpered softly and stayed in her arms instead of wriggling away. Lavanya felt an immense sense of thankfulness for the little dog; it had been years since she’d had a shoulder to cry on.

After a while, she stood up with him in her arms and went to her room. She did not want her parents to wake up and find her crying on the floor, clutching the dog. As she climbed the stairs quietly, she got very aware of her bangles jingling.

She found her father standing at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a full-sleeved T-shirt with his pyjamas. Lavanya did not look at him as she walked past him, hoping to avoid a scene.

‘I thought I heard someone downstairs. Is the bidaayi over? Did everything go well?’

Lavanya was walking by him to her room, avoiding a confrontation, but when he spoke to her, she stopped to turn back and glare at him.
He was the reason why. He started all of this.

His eyes were swollen and drowsy, but as she held his gaze, she saw them widen and become more alert. She was tempted to turn away, avoid looking into his direction as much as possible. She didn’t. She had been rightly accused of running away from her problems. For once, she wanted to face it.

In a matter of seconds, the expression on her father’s face changed completely. His eyes got wider and more aware, his lips parted. Maybe in disbelief, Lavanya mused. Disbelief that his own daughter was looking at him. Mr Suryavanshi took a step towards her. ‘Lavi . . .? Are you okay? Have you been crying? Is everything all right?’

‘No.’ Lavanya grit her teeth.

‘What is wrong?’

‘Everything. Every-
freaking
-thing.’ She spat out each word deliberately, venomously. ‘Nothing is right here. And it is all because of you.
You
did this. You made me run away. You made me leave Mom alone, leave Shourya behind, deal with depression and loneliness and start doing . . . things I should not have done . . . It’s been seven years! Yet here I am, still dealing with the consequences of
your
actions.’

Lavanya saw the horrified expression on her father’s face. She did not wait for his response; she had already said more than she should have, more than she had intended to. She rushed to her room and shut the door, leaving her father and Toughy in the hallway. She flung herself on the bed face first and put a pillow over her head, trying to block out the world, and all that was wrong with it.

She had to get away. She had to run.

It had already happened. She knew it in her gut; something terrible had happened. Something she could not run from. Her legs betrayed her, they always did. She crawled to the door. She could not remember where she was, but it did not matter. If she could make it outside, she would find someone who could help her find her way back home.

She did not know where her wallet was and she still had not been able to locate her cell phone. Just as her fingers clutched the doorknob, she heard someone call her name. She turned around.

‘Where are you going?’ the man asked. He was standing with his back against another door. She had not noticed there was another door.

‘What did you give me?’

‘It’s mind-blowing, isn’t it? Blows your mind, like phew . . .’ he gestured his mind being blown.

‘What was it?’ she asked, her voice cracking with desperation.

‘Just coke. We snort mostly, but takes time. Smoking is faster. Shooting’s even faster . . .’ He pulled out a glass pipe from his pocket and waved it towards her.

‘No, there was a needle . . .’

‘Yeah, injecting is the fastest. Gets you off in like, three seconds.’

‘I have never done that before.’

‘Really?’ He had already slumped down on the couch.

‘Is coke bad?’

‘Mmm?’

She leaned on the door. She could hear him snore within minutes. The fat guy on the floor had still not moved. Her eyelids kept drooping, she kept forcing them open.

She had to get up. She had to run.

Her hand slipped off the doorknob and she lost her balance, crashing to the floor. Her head hit the cold, hard ground.

The crash brought back some of her senses. She willed her arms to move, to support her as she got up. She begged her legs to not give up on her again. She had to get up. She somehow pushed herself back up. The motion drained her of all her energy, and the drug took over again.

This time she when her head hit the floor, she could not get up.

But somehow she knew . . . she had to run.

Shourya could not sleep for hours after Shreela left with Manav. He had already been distressed after his showdown with Lavanya. When Shreela hugged him and cried, he could not take it any more.

When had life become so complicated? Why did they have to be so far from the people they loved?
Everything was changing. Now that Shreela’s wedding was finally over, Shourya had to think about going back. He had only ten days left in Delhi before he had to return to California. He wondered what he would be going back to.

And what it would be like to come back home.

He had always planned to come back . . . he could easily find a good job in Delhi, or Bangalore or even Mumbai. Be closer to home, visit his family whenever he wanted. True, he still had a student loan to repay, which was easier and faster to do when he earned in dollars. If things went as planned, he would pay it back within two years and come back to India.

That had been
their
plan. He did not know what Deepti’s plan was any more. She had been calling him all day. Shourya had been so focused on Shreela’s wedding arrangements that he hadn’t really thought about what Deepti had proposed. But now that the wedding was over, he had to make a choice. He wished he could talk it over with Lavanya. She had taken over all his actions and decisions regarding Deepti, but he’d driven her away.

When he had returned to his room, there was no trace of her there, except a faint hint of her perfume. He lay down on his bed, feeling dizzy. He should not have said all those horrible things to Lavanya and made her cry. As if she wasn’t going through enough already. It was so tough to see her break down like that. He kicked himself for putting her through that.

When he fell asleep, it was a troubled sleep. He dreamt of Shreela in her beige lehenga and red dupatta, holding Manav’s hand and walking away from him. He saw Lavanya running away from him again, leaving him at the airport without a second glance. And he saw Deepti snuggle into Avik’s arms on the deck of a cruise, sailing away.

The insistent ringing of his phone woke Shourya up. He pulled out the wretched thing from under his pillow and picked up the call to make the shrill noise in his ears stop.

‘Hello,’ he muttered gruffly a moment later.

‘Shourya, beta, is that you?’ a female voice demanded from the other end.

‘Mmm?’

‘Hello? Shourya?’

‘Hmm.’ He managed to open his eyes. The room was dark and quiet. He was completely disoriented about where he was and what time it was. He pulled the phone away from his ear to see who the caller was. He did not recognize the number. He spoke into the phone, ‘Yes, it’s Shourya.’

BOOK: After All This Time
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ads

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