“You broke your bike that same week. Coincidence?”
Vihaan’s silence was enough to confirm her suspicion. How far back did his interest in her go? She’d always assumed that, like her, the year they’d dated was the year his feelings had changed. He’d made a flippant remark once that he’d liked her for much longer than that, but she’d never given credence to it. “You started walking behind me to school everyday.”
“I can’t tell if you’re looking for confirmation or accusing me,” Vihaan muttered, sliding her a suspicious glance.
“Just asking.”
He shrugged, a single shoulder lifting and dropping. “You wouldn’t let me walk with you.”
“I thought you were doing it to annoy me.”
That got him to crack a small smile. “Annoying you was simply a bonus. I felt bad and I didn’t want you to have to walk alone.”
With a short nod, Vera turned away, going back to observing the moon, as if it held answers to the rest of her questions. Under the moonlight, with the wind rustling the leaves in the trees that surrounded them, making their garden their own little sanctuary, she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.
It was the first time in the month since their wedding that she felt at peace. Like this marriage, irrespective of the circumstances it had taken place under, was life’s way of giving her something she hadn’t known she needed. She felt his stare and turned, catching the look of longing on his face before he pretended to gaze at the moon instead.
“I saw you.”
He tilted his head curiously, a silent question.
“With Nanu,” Vera explained. “I saw what you did earlier this evening in his room.”
Vihaan dragged a tired hand down his face, looking haggard. “You were finally resting. I promise you, I didn’t hurt him. You’ve been wearing yourself out between work and caring for him and I. . .” He sighed loudly. “Honestly, I only wanted to help. That’s it. I’m allowed to do that. He means something to me, too.”
“You think I. . .” Vera stopped, shocked that he’d concluded that she was annoyed with him. The vulnerability that flickered in Vihaan’s eyes shook her. How had she not seen his sadness? Or if she had, how had she ignored it? She’d been so caught up in her anger and need to protect herself, that she’d repeatedly wounded a man who’d made a mistake at eighteen.
Eighteen. That’s it.
They’d been children who’d had big feelings, and an equally big fall-out. At eighteen, their communication skills had fallen short, and their misplaced egos led them to fail a life test. How was it fair that only Vihaan made reparations, then?
With this new outlook, yet another piece of the calm she’d been missing since she’d left Nagpur slipped into place, instilling a strength that wasn’t laced with doubt and censure.
“I’ve insisted on seeing the worst in you over the last few months, haven’t I?” she finally conceded, ashamed of herself.
“You had good reason to.”
“You excuse my behaviour but not your own. Why?”
It was impossible not to notice the shadows under his eyes when she asked him this, or the way his muscles went taut, the vein in his throat jutting out as he struggled to swallow his feelings.
“Because I’m the one who messed up,” he said, his voice roughened with emotions. “You think you’re the only one who can’t forgive me? I can’t forgive myself either. Knowing what I said, what I did to you. Where we could have been today if only—”
He broke off, his regret palpable. His pain wove itself through the air, sinking into her consciousness, eroding her rapidly weakening defence.
“Can we move ahead without forgiveness?” she asked, her voice low, almost afraid of his answer.
Vihaan let out a soft huff, a sound that was a mixture of acceptance and understanding. “Forgiveness isn’t in one moment. It can take years, and if it is time you want from me, I’ll give you every second of my life.”
How he remained so patient in the face of her defiance was as much an enigma to her as the source of his feelings.
“Why do you love me? I’ve not made it easy for you, then why?”
“Has anyone in the history of lovers ever been able to answer that correctly?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’ve only ever cared to ask one man that question.”
Vihaan’s sharp intake of breath was one she didn’t miss.