“I am,” she wailed, unable to stop, tears trailing down her cheeks. She sniffled, blowing noisily into the sheet of tissue that was handed to her.
“Then what is it?” Nanamma asked, using the edge of her saree’s pallu to dry one cheek, her efforts wasted when the deluge of tears did not abate.
“I . . . Nanamma. . .I. . .” She hiccuped, allowing the concerned older lady to hold both her hands.
“I love him,” she croaked, her nose burning anew as a fresh wave of anxiety swelled within her. Giving up, she slumped into Nanamma’s lap, burying her face in the soft folds of her cotton saree and succumbed to the dismay that had come with the acceptance of this fact.
She loved Rian Shetty.
She had thought she was so smart, that she could separate the part of her that lusted after him from the part that desired more than a short-term fling. She’d believed that her mind negating impractical dreams of a relationship with him would stop her heart from doing so as well.
She’d told herself over and over again that she could not fall in love with him because Rian did not want marriage. He had made it clear that he didn’t want to fall in love or give any space to it.
Even now, despite proposing to her, he had not promised anything other than a partnership. One that Aditi was certain would be filled with camaraderie, support, mind-blowing sex, and a very real chance of a happy life together.
She had refused to ask for more because this was already more than she had expected.
She had refused to want more because she was afraid to lose even this.
With Leela's unannounced visit however, Aditi’s old misgivings had come to the fore.
Once more, she was with someone whose mother disapproved of her. Once again, she was deeply in love with a man without any clarity on whether or not he’d love her too.
And that would have been okay.
She’d reconciled herself with the idea of marrying someone on the basis of friendship and basic compatibility. After all, many marriages boasted far less.
With Rian though, she didn’t know when her practical side stopped being quite so practical.
Every dream, every wish, and each day held a hope of him and his love, and she’d been powerless to stop that love from growing in her.
She had lied to herself. She’d pretended that fulfilling her desire to make a memory that held Rian’s essence before she married elsewhere was possible.
Her life would have continued, she was sure. But today, she understood something critical.
Rian would have owned not just her memories— he would have owned her entirely.
She was the best version of herself with him. She would have missed him every day for the rest of her life because she would have missed the version of Aditi she most loved also. The version that Rian, with his unshakeable belief and unwavering support, brought out.
Imagining a life with someone other than him felt wrong now. No, it felt impossible.
He was supposed to have been a once-in-a-lifetime experience that she could look back on with fondness, but he’d somehow morphed into something else altogether.
A once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.
“Kanna, get up, please,” Chitra pleaded. “Talk to me. Why is loving Rian so upsetting for you?”
“I’m scared.”
“Does he know?”
“No.” She turned to face Nanamma, anguish colouring her tone. “He told me he doesn’t want to love anyone. He wants to marry me, but that’s not the same as love.”
Chitra sighed tiredly.
“Some people are simply better at asking for what they need. Rian is not one of them, but never doubt that that boy wants to love and be loved in return more than anything else.”
“Of course you’d say that. He is your grandson, after all.”