“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to see me. Choose me. Whether it was angering you so you’d notice me, or doing well at school so you’d be proud of me, or building a business separate from my father with your voice in my head driving me to prove I’m not useless—everything’s been for you. I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”
Her jaw tightened, refusing to give credence to his words. His earnestness had no impact on her mistrust of him, and while he understood why, it lodged a knife in his chest. He approached her, pleading, “Is there nothing I can do to make amends?”
“Kneel,” she demanded, watching him with an impenetrable mask upon her features.
“W-what?”
“Get on your knees and use your mouth or get the fuck out,” she slowly repeated. “I’ve never forgotten what you said.”
He blanched, the knife twisting harder.
“Get on your knees and apologise if you’re truly sorry.”
Her indigo eyes were glittering with barely leashed hate, the heat of which was burning his hope to ashes. Done waiting for him, she glanced at the dressing table, turning to pick up her phone.
“It’s fine,” she said, readying herself to leave. “The past is wh—”
He dropped to his knees, looking up at her for mercy. As if he was a sinner and she was the angel delivering his punishment.
“You seem surprised,” he guessed, a sad tilt to his lips when Vera remained speechless. He cocked his head to the left, his eyes red. “Did you think I was too proud to kneel in front of you? I’ll be on my knees every day, Vera, if it means you’ll give me another chance. No price is too high for your forgiveness.”
Her lips trembled, emotions rising between them with the speed of a high tide during the full moon.
“Tell me how to earn you back.” Salty tears scalded his eyes, leaking despite his best efforts.
“I can’t,” she said hoarsely, swiping at her wet cheeks. She shook her head once, walking past him, stopping when he grabbed her hand in both of his.
“Why?” he asked, still kneeling. His gaze was fixed on the cold tile floor, too afraid to look up and see that there was no hope for him. For them.
The gentleness with which she extracted her wrist from his grip did not prepare him for the devastation that ravaged him at her response.
“I don’t hate myself enough to love you again.”
37
Spotlight
Vera
Striding briskly towards thewaiting crew, Vera congratulated herself on having ended the conversation on her terms.
This time, there wouldn’t be any self-recrimination. She would not spend endless hours replaying the same conversation in her head, losing sleep at night as she obsessed over what she could have said to retain her self-respect. Unlike fourteen years ago, she hadn’t fallen weak. Had she perhaps been cruel? Yes. But she’d been unable to take the high road. He’d ripped them apart all over a misunderstanding. She wasn’t kind enough to forgive that so quickly.
The pain Vihaan had inflicted upon her all those years ago—today, she’d finally repaid that debt.
I’ll be on my knees for you everyday. Tell me how to earn you back.
Her breath broke out in a soft shudder when she remembered his words. She had wanted to humble him by commanding him to kneel. She had never expected his submission. Goosebumps washedover her when she recollected his abject capitulation to her demand. He had never before acceded to her so easily. So willingly.
She had walked away today with her pride intact.
I should feel elated,she thought miserably as a crew member pinned a mic to her lapel, preparing her for the interview she was to participate in.Then why don’t I?
She’d spent the weekend in tears, feeling like a fool for getting her hopes up about Vihaan. His sweet words had painted a pretty picture and she’d been swept up in the romance of it, in the possibility of finding happiness and love again. Until he’d brought up forgiving her. And then, he’d mentioned providing material security in return for her loyalty. In that moment, she’d been transported back into his bedroom all those years ago, holding the pieces of her broken heart, having no clue why she was being so cruelly rejected by the boy she’d loved so deeply. Wondering what she’d done for him to have cheapened her love and debased it by offering money for sex.
Sniffling inconspicuously, she blinked away the stinging behind her eyes, knowing that breaking down now would draw too many looks and questions to which she had no answer. She glanced beside her where the director and editor of the series sat, both men chatting affably while the make-up team bounced around, doing touch-ups.
Upper management had determined that an informal, round-couch interview between the team behind the SSI series and the project sponsor who was also the new face of Ethos, would be a good way to generate excitement for the first broadcast. The marketing team had done a tremendous job in advertising today’s shoot. The studio was full, and somewhere within the crowds was the only person who mattered to her.