Page 15 of No Other Love

I wore a fitting white ball-gown and Vikrant dazzled in a rented tuxedo.

It had been a magical night.

And I thought, foolishly, Vikrant would do the same. Defend me when I wasn’t around. Tell his parents I was good for him. I was enough for him. But he hadn’t done that. He’d kept quiet and, in doing so, ruined me.

I blinked away unexpected tears as the Jeep jerked to a stop. There was no use rehashing the past. We were who we were. And now we were divorced. This was a play, a charade. And it would end soon enough.

Vikrant touched my thigh, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

***

‘You okay?’ Concern lined his black gaze.

‘I’m fine.’ I carefully took his hand away in a casual gesture, I hoped. ‘Just very tired and sleepy.’

‘Cool. You can crash for a few hours. Aai-Baba won’t be arriving till after lunch anyway.’ Vikrant gave a small, polite smile. ‘And I’ve told them to behave so you have nothing to worry about.’

My lips trembled and one tear streaked out before I could stop it. ‘I don’t need protection from anyone.’ I dashed the tear away angrily. ‘Not even your parents.’

‘I know.’ He closed his eyes, and an expression of insane hurt crossed his face. ‘That wasn’t what I meant. Let’s just grab some sleep, shall we? I’m tired too.’

I nodded shortly, unclipped the seat belt, my belly burning with repressed emotions.

And somehow, Vikrant was there on my side before I could step out of the vehicle. His hands were on my waist, biting into my skin as he plucked me from the seat and slid me length-wise down his legs before I landed on the ground.

I clutched at his forearms, staring at him the whole time. He was so close, one more inch and I’d be in his arms, tight against him.

Hell, I could see it in his eyes. The thing that drove me, drove him too.

Need.

It was devastating.

Vikrant stepped back, taking his hands off my waist, finger by finger. ‘I really didn’t mean to sound defensive, Anika,’ he said softly. ‘Please forgive me.’

He took the bag and trudged up the path to the place he called home, which had no place for me.

***

I was impressed with Vikrant’s home. It was built cottage-style with three floors, a huge, terraced roof with actual trees growing through the ground to the top, and a garden that even had a small vegetable patch. Construction was on for a marbled fountain. I gave a small smile at the sight.

Vikrant had always wanted a marble fountain, ever since he’d seen one in the lobby of a five-star hotel where we’d attended a medical conference as students.

The house was sparsely furnished; with mosquito nets in every window and wide-open doors that gave a stunning view of the garden. The wraparound porch had a hammock tied to one side with a free-standing lamp next to it. A half-open book rested on it.

I went to pick it up.

It was a sappy romance with a cover of a house like the one I was in, done in a teal blue color. I smiled some more. Some things never changed.

In my down time, I played squash or racquetball and wanted to go out. Experience vibrancy and life. Vikrant loved staying home and watching a cricket match, a good book next to him. We were a classic case of opposites attract.

‘That’s not mine,’ Vikrant spoke from behind.

‘I believe you.’ I placed the book back where I found it. Gave the hammock a gentle tug and it swung in the breeze. ‘This must be heaven, sleeping here.’

‘When I’m not dying of mosquito bites,’ he agreed, hands in pocket.

‘I’ll have to try it sometime then.’