“What do you think you’re doing? Dance? Really? Are you having fun at my expense?” Her voice wavered, unable to hide how upsetting she found his behaviour.
“No!” He ran a hand over his face, drawing it down to rub his jaw. This was going to be uncomfortable, but he owed Aditi an explanation. He felt helpless when she watched him with such wariness. “I’m not making fun of you. I am trying to correct all the things I did wrong this evening and all I ask is that you give me a little time. If, after you hear me out, you’re still angry, I’ll leave you alone.”
His honesty worked in his favour. Her forehead creased when he stepped closer, but she didn’t stop him from taking her hand in his and bringing her closer, assuming the most common slow-dancing stance known to the world.
One large palm pressed into the low of her back as their feet began to move, matching the gentle tempo of the tune he’d played. Despite the tension between them, Aditi sighed when Rian’s chin settled on her crown. It was ridiculous that this simple gesture made her want to wail. Why could she not resist the comfort of him when it was also him who’d caused her discomfort? How was he both the source of pain and the solution for it?
For what felt like a long time, all they did was sway together in the middle of the kitchen, the music and each other’s touch having a calming effect on them both.
"Growing up, I liked music.” His words were soft and carefully measured. "I was told I had a good voice, but I didn’t like to sing in front of people. Stage fear, perhaps. My parents used to host massive parties at our family home. Even after my father fell ill, my mother continued to throw these galas that were the talk of town for days. She craved the attention she garnered as the hostess. One evening, she forced me on stage, announcing to everyone I would entertain them. I froze. I couldn’t get a sound out.”
His chest rose in a deep breath, and she felt the soft shudder with which he released it.
“She was spitting mad at me for making her look bad.”
His eyes stung, old wounds reopening, Leela’s venomous declaration that night clear despite the passage of time.
You’re a curse to me. Instead of making me proud, you made me look like an idiot for having such a stupid son. Others boast of how accomplished their children are but you've been nothing but a disappointment to me. My image, my happiness, my pride— damaged because of you and your failures! You're a stupid, worthless fool. Everything you touch, you destroy. That is your legacy. I wish I’d never given birth to you.
“She dragged me out onto the grounds beside our house, berating me for embarrassing her in front of her guests. My apologies did not matter. She left me there with a warning not to step back in the house until she forgave me.”
His eyes glazed over, remembering the chill of the night, the wetness of the ground as it drizzled on and off around him. He’d huddled under a tree, beyond afraid of the deep darkness around him, but terrified of his mother’s wrath if he sought safety inside the massive structure that was meant to be his home. Exhausted from crying, he’d eventually fallen asleep in the dirt and had been found in the wee hours of the morning by a security guard patrolling their gardens. His mother, drunk and in her own world, had never bothered to return for him.
“I couldn't stand to talk in public forums, much less sing, after that,” he admitted, his throat hoarse.
Sensing his torment, Aditi’s hand on his chest moved in a soft arc, back and forth, right over his heart. "Thank you for telling me. I understand why you reacted the way you did. I should have known you had a reason."
Her easy acceptance astounded him.
"She was there at the restaurant today. That’s why I had to stay back. And she managed to make me feel like shit again. I wasn’t in my right mind at the club and I took it out on you.” His voice cracked, laced with regret. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it back."
"I know I can be too much. That’s why I said you needed a safe word, too. I should have backed off when you said no once. I won’t do it again."
The understanding that this condemnation of herself was a reflection of his behaviour wounded him far more than she’d ever know. Repentant, he held her a little closer, hoping that he could convince her of his true feelings.
"Too much? Yes, I suppose you are.”
Aditi stilled, nose prickling at his agreement.
“You’re too nice,” he continued. “Too understanding. Too friendly, honest, and forgiving in a world that isn’t any of that. But that’s your strength.”
Aditi drew away from him, clearly unwilling to give credence to his words. Their eyes met, and whatever Rian saw caused him to bridge the gap between them once more. He cupped her cheeks, lifting her face such that she was forced to meet his gaze.
"What happened today was my fault. If anyone should feel shame, it's me. You did nothing wrong.” Some of the hurt receded from her eyes. “Promise me you won’t change the way you are with me. Promise me you won't hold yourself back because of what I did."
She nodded, her hesitation slowly ebbing. She had no armour strong enough to deny Rian what he asked after he’d laid himself bare. She had never realised how much he’d hidden behind his sweet and silent exterior.
“Did I make you cry?” he asked.
“Almost,” she whispered.
Under the soft glow of the lamps around them, it was impossible to hide anything. Her gaze flitted over features that had become so familiar to her in a short time, recognizing now the source of hisunhappiness. The melancholy he’d become proficient at concealing had emerged today, and Aditi was left stunned at the revelation.
"My mother is not a good person, Doc. I hope your paths never cross. I wouldn't want her shadow to touch you."
Her inability to console him appropriately frustrated her. How did one find words to dull the cut left behind on a young child by his mother’s meaningless hatred?
“Did she hit you?” she questioned, her instinct warning her of the possibility.