by Zee Monodee
“Say it,” he whispered.
“You and me, it was right.”
Elation burst in his chest. He yearned to pull her to him, hold her, kiss her, make love to her.
And that wouldn’t be enough. He shouldn’t want more, but he did. Would she say this if ...
His mind ran in confusing directions. Each one seemed right and appropriate, and none appeared like the better, or the wiser, choice. Finally, it came down to the fact he knew one truth, and he needed the final answer that would lift all doubts.
“Would you say this if you were still married?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Would you? If your husband were alive today, would you leave him for me?”
“Of course not!”
His world crashed. A part of him reckoned he must be a right bloody bastard for playing this sick game; yet, another part couldn’t help but claim he was entitled to know.
“Do you love me, Neha?”
“You know I do.”
“The two of us. We were right?”
“Yes.”
She gasped as he bent closer, his face hovering a scant inch from hers.
“You want me back?”
She inhaled sharply. “If you’ll have me.”
“This is what you want, eh.”
She acquiesced with a soft nod.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What would you do if I told you your husband is alive, living under a different identity, having deserted you? If you knew the man you married still lived, would we still be right under those circumstances, Neha?”
“It’s … not true.”
Not the answer I’m looking for, babe. Logan smiled, and the curving of his lips must look anything but happy or joyous. No, it reflected his dark and dangerous thoughts. Neha must’ve sensed it, too, because she took a step back.
“So now, I’m a liar?” he asked softly, still smiling.
“No.” She moaned the word.
“Then answer me.” He brought his hand up again and cradled her jaw, ran the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone.
“I don’t know.”
Inside him, he hurt. Pain tore through him, stinging and burning like acid.
I need you to know!
Instead of saying the words, he crushed his mouth to hers and probed her lips open with his tongue. He delved in, savouring her taste, taking all of her, all he’d craved and been denied and what had made him nearly mad with want and longing.
She moved her lips. Timidly, her tongue touched his.
Fire erupted in his body, and as he deepened the kiss she met with equal passion, he had to let go of her.
He broke away, panting. Her breaths came in laboured puffs, too, and he roamed his gaze over her face. Her eyes dipped hooded, dark with passion, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen. Yet, despite her obvious desire for him, she still hesitated when presented with a possible choice between him and another man.
Fury like he’d never felt before took over him. Throwing caution to the wind, he realized he would soon make a big mistake.
At the same time, he remained powerless to stop himself. Because he wanted her to hurt, to go through the same turmoil and ordeal he was experiencing.
Bloody hell. Love hurt.
His hand still on her face, he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
“Good thing you’re going to Mumbai, Neha, because you’ll find your husband well and alive there.”
Chapter Seventeen
How could he have said those words?
Neha couldn’t believe any of his statements. At the same time, though, something inside her heart screamed she had a right to know. If this was what her life came down to, then, she should find out the truth.
She blanked out the deafening music in the lounge. It was Monday night, and a couple hours since they’d checked into their hotel. Nadine, Angénue’s chief designer, had dragged them to the first of a slew of parties making up this trip.
So she now found herself in Mumbai, in the same city where, apparently, her husband lived under a different identity.
If it hadn’t been Logan telling her this, she wouldn’t have given the information a toss. Logan never lied.
“What are you talking about?” she had asked when the shock had lifted.
He had looked at her for long, intense moments.
“Forget I said it,” he’d said and turned away.
She couldn’t let him go, and she had grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. Her grip had been weak, and she’d struggled to reel him in. With a strength born of desperation, she had managed the feat. “Oh, no, you’re not bailing out on me.”
“Neha, don’t, okay? Forget it.”
“Easy for you to say so, innit? Drop such a bomb on me, and then, you get to walk away.”
“I’ve never walked away from you,” he’d said in a growl.
“You are now.” For once, would they see an argument through, constructively?
“Don’t push me, Neha.”
If the words had been said with menace in them, she wouldn’t have been surprised. But weariness had laced his tone, and this had made her release her grasp on his shirt.
“What?” she’d asked in a croak.
He had looked away. “If we’re ever to be back together, I need to know it’s what you want, Neha.”
“What do you mean? I’m here, innit?”
“And would you be if he were alive?”
“He isn’t. He’s dead.”
“He may not be.”
She’d waited for more, her silence a prompt for him.
“A man by the name of Sandeep Jain is your husband’s body double. No one knows anything about him except that he came on the scene two years ago.”
A soft gasp had escaped her. “What does this change here, Logan?”
He had laughed, a small sound devoid of humour. “Everything.”
How, she’d wanted to ask, but hadn’t. Yet, he must have heard the word, because his gaze had found hers and held it.
“For once, I’d want to know you took a decision on your own, Neha. Not because it’s the right thing to do.”
Upon those words, he had pulled the door open and walked out. She’d remained in her spot, reeling with the impact of this confession.
What have I been doing here by apologizing and admitting I loved you?
The words had never crossed her lips, though, because he’d been right.
Saying all this didn’t mean she was taking a chance on him, with him. It meant she still wished for things to happen on her terms, and a man like Logan could not have that. While she hated him for this inflexibility, at the same time, she respected him even more for it, because he remained true to his mind and bowed to no one.
“Mum, you will not believe this,” Suzanne exclaimed as she appeared by her side.
Neha snapped out of her thoughts and peered up at her daughter. A tall, dark-skinned young woman accompanied Suzanne, and a hulk of a man followed behind at a slow pace.
“Mum, this is Tara.” Suzanne turned to her new friend. “Tara Warrington. And this hunky fella here is Tyler, Logan’s brother. It’s a small world, innit, to meet them here, of all places?”
Small world, indeed, she thought as she watched the young couple. In the dim light, she couldn’t make out their features properly. She however smiled at them.
“And you are Neha,” Tara said. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Same here,” she replied. “You are Logan’s …?” She let the question die open-ended.
“Sister-in-law. Ty’s my husband.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t known Logan’s brother had gotten married.
“Look,” Tara said. “There’s someone there you have to meet, Suzanne.” She turned to Neha and Tyler. “Excuse us for a minute, will you?”
“Sure,” Neha said.
Left alone with Tyler Warrington, she glanced up at the man.
“May I?” he asked as he n
odded towards the booth in which she sat.
“Of course,” she politely replied.
What had Logan told his brother? Had he mentioned the two of them?
Tyler shuffled into his seat and grimaced when he finally sat.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. Ankle’s killing me, but I’ll survive.”
She frowned, and he must’ve noticed.
“The doctors took the cast off yesterday. Tara only managed to drag me out tonight so we could meet you and your daughter.”
“How did you know we’d be here?”
“Tara’s a society reporter, knows all about those parties. And because she’d be attending almost every one of them, Logan asked her to keep an eye on your daughter.”
So Logan had called them. He still cared about Suzanne, even if the relationship between him and Neha had practically been severed.
“I can understand now how he’s fallen for you,” Tyler said.
She blinked at his matter-of-fact words. “I beg your pardon?”
“Logan,” the other man calmly said. “You have that look about you.”
“What look?”
“One a man like him can interpret as a calm and peaceful shore.”
At this, she snorted. “Calm and peace? So not what he’s looking for.”
He had brought nothing but turmoil and upheaval in her life.
Tyler quietly assessed her, and not wanting to show him she squirmed under his gaze, she focused on his features. He’d drawn closer, and she could see him better. A small smile crossed her face; how these two brothers looked alike. No way could anyone deny they were kin.
“Let me guess,” Tyler said. “He brought havoc into your existence, didn’t he?”
She answered with a raised eyebrow. “You got that right.”
He chuckled. “You did the opposite for him.”
The truth. She had to go with the truth.
“Doesn’t seem like it. I hurt him, Tyler.”
What did she have to lose? So she placed all her cards face up on the table.
“And I bet he lashed out in reply,” the other man said.
“Exactly.”
At this, Tyler pitched his head back and laughed. She couldn’t help but note how even their laughter sounded alike. And she was left wondering what had triggered his hilarity.
Leaning forward after placing his forearms on the table, he grew serious. “Neha, when Logan doesn’t care about something, he’s like a rock. Unyielding, unmoving. Yet, with you, he struck back.”
Her mouth went dry. Did he mean what she thought he meant?
“He cares about you, maybe too much, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s how he is, take it or leave it. For my brother, life is easier to go through when he’s like stone. Yet, you take him out of his comfort zone, and if he’s messed up, it should tell you that you shouldn’t let go of him.”
How very true, but they were so far gone past that point of salvation.
“He won’t take me back,” she said softly.
“He will. Trust me.”
If I decide what to do based on what I really want. If I make my choice.
The words Logan had spoken tumbled in her mind, blurring and merging into an incoherent whole.
She had to know, too. It was imperative she untangled that yarn and smoothed her life out. One thing remained for sure—she wanted Logan, and the only way to get him would be by making a choice.
Still, how did one do so without knowing both sides of the deal?
Sandeep Jain. Who was he? A stranger, or Rahul?
She’d have to know, and only then would she be able to move forward.
***
For two days, her heart had hammered in a rhythm threatening to give her an attack. Between parties and events, her body and her attention had been kept busy. All through it, though, her mind had remained on full alert and spun the questions in a choking weave around her consciousness.
So this was how on Thursday afternoon, the first moment she’d really had to herself as Suzanne had gone to a photo shoot, Neha set out through the city on a mission.
It hadn’t been hard to find information about Sandeep Jain. She’d asked around with some of the launch’s organizers and had found out at what building the man worked.
She was on her way to meet him and to put her heart and mind to rest. What would she do if he turned out to be him?
Not likely. Coincidences happened. People with a connection to the underworld, like she had found out about the man during her enquiries, often surfaced from out of nowhere, and nobody bothered to know more about them. It was the way of their world, full stop.
The taxi stopped in front of a luxurious building in a posh suburb of the city. Stepping out on the wide pavement, she took a deep breath and started towards the door.
A pretty young receptionist sat behind a marble desk. Neha walked up to her.
“Could I please see Mr. Jain?” she asked.
The girl smiled, though it appeared contrived.
“Do you have an appointment, Madam?”
She hadn’t thought of that. “No, but I need to see him.”
“I’m sorry. Mr. Jain receives only by appointment.”
“Listen, could you just let him know I am here?”
Maybe if he heard her name, he’d agree to see her. If he knew who she was—
“Madam, I’m sorry.”
The exchange went back and forth between them, voices getting shriller and louder. The girl started to panic, and Neha hoped with all her heart she wouldn’t call in security. She needed to see this man, for goodness’ sake.
“Is there a problem?” a man asked behind them.
Neha stopped talking and froze. No, it couldn’t be ... She knew that voice, knew every inflection the soft, at times hardly audible, tone could take.
Slowly, she turned … and parted her lips when she encountered him.
Dressed in a pale linen suit, he could’ve stepped out of her life that very morning so much he still looked the same. The whiff of expensive, sophisticated cologne tickled her nostrils, but it couldn’t hide the hint of acrid cigarette smell always permeating from him.
She let her gaze trail over his face. Small lines feathered out at the corners of his eyes. These hadn’t been there two years ago.
Two years.
All this time, he’d been alive?
He stared at her long and hard, too, and the words of the receptionist cut through the invisible link between them.
“I’m sorry, sir. The lady does not have an appointment—”
“I’ll see her right now,” he said, silencing the girl. “Come with me.”
He stepped towards Neha and placed his hand in the small of her back, like he’d done so many times in the past when he had escorted her. She fell back into the familiar routine, and then, she squirmed. Another touch felt right in the spot. No longer Rahul’s.
Or Sandeep’s.
Wordlessly, they entered into a lift. Silence thrummed between them until they got out and walked into a plush lobby. A woman sat behind a desk, and she stood when they walked by.
“Gauri, please make sure I’m not disturbed for a while,” he said without looking at her.
The secretary nodded. He pushed a door open, gestured for Neha to go in first. She stepped into the glass and steel office, and he closed the door.
He walked over to the desk, where he leaned his hip against the edge.
So much like he always used to stand when he wanted to talk, she recalled.
“Come here,” he said softly, nodding at the chair in front of him.
Neha refused to budge, though. How could he be so quiet and calm about this? That he hadn’t refused to see her meant he knew who she was. And this, in turn, painted him as the man she had married.
“Neha,” he finally said, shattering through the heavy tension in the room.
“Rahul?”
The name had come out as a m
ere whisper.
His eyes grew wide, and a small smile etched on his face. “No one has called me by that name in a long time.”
She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “Two years, to be precise.”
“Neha, I’m sorry.”
The gall of the man! He was sorry?
“For what?” She saw red. “For making us go through Hell when you went missing? For making us think you had died? For abandoning us? Or for getting on with your life without a care for anyone but yourself?” she shouted as anger unfurled inside her and she remained powerless to stop it.
All the frustration of the past couple of years snowballed inside her, and she had to let it all out.
“I’m sorry it happened this way. I didn’t want this—”
“Right. It’s been two years, Rahul. All this time, we thought you were dead.”
He straightened and came towards her. “Neha, you have to understand. Sometimes, things don’t happen the way we plan for them to.”
He really thought they could stay calm and composed about this?
“I don’t bloody have to understand! What the hell did you think you were doing?”
He stopped short a few steps from her. “You realize you just swore?”
“Yes, I bloody did, and I bloody will continue if I have to,” she said, completely incensed now by his whole casual attitude.
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“You’ve changed.”
“That’s what losing your husband does to you, Rahul. And then finding out he was alive all this time is icing on the cake.”
“Come here.” He reached out.
She shrugged his hand off when he touched her arm. “I need some answers, for goodness’ sake. Not your holy patience.”
“And it’s what you’ll get,” he said as he closed his hand on her elbow. “The answers, not the patience.”
Neha couldn’t believe it. Could that be a hint of humour in his tone?
He took her to a couch on the other side of the big room. “Sit down.”
She complied, because she wanted—needed—to hear what he had to say.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
What were they now, the British exchanging pleasantries? What would they speak of next? The weather? He was so not off the hook.
“Fine. Doing just fine without you.”