Page 59 of Born in Grief

“That was one time! And only because you stole my bookmark, you little thief.” He was still defending himself when she reached up and kissed him.

Soft, tentative, and hopelessly fearful, the kiss was over before his brain could catch up with what happened. She stared up at him, eyes wide, anxiety writ large over them.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t know why-“

He kissed her, hand sliding through the soft silk of her hair, cupping her head and tilting her back to deepen it.

“I know why,” he whispered against her lips before he finally allowed himself a taste of the heaven he’d only ever dreamed of until then.

Chapter Thirty-Five

DHRITHI

Dhrithi moaned, a needy gasp of sound that echoed in the quiet of the bedroom. It had been forever….forever since she’d been touched with care, with gentleness, with affection. Her body opened to his caress like a flower unfurling at the first drop of rain.

His lips left hers to trail gentle kisses along her jaw and down her neck, reaching the sensitive skin near her collarbone. Her hands clenched in his hair, holding him closer to her even as her body arched in silent invitation. He accepted with alacrity, his hot mouth coming back to hers, plundering, savaging, and taking until she felt like she’d have nothing left to give. All she had was his, had always been his. She was finally able to offer it to him.

“Amay,” she panted, her hands stroking him in frantic motions, her body demanding more from the moment.

He caught one fluttering hand with his and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. He bent to press his forehead to hers, his eyes closed, a shuddering breath sawing out of him.

“Amay, I-“

But whatever she was going to say, it was lost in the jarring sound of her phone ringing. They stared at each other, the enormity of their lapse in judgement seeming to balloon with each ring of her phone.

He squeezed his eyes tight before pushing away from her. “You should take that,” he said, unable to, it seemed, look at her.

Dhrithi glanced at the phone and saw it was her father-in-law calling. Ex-father-in-law she reminded herself. She tossed the phone aside and reached for Amay. Her hand only grasped air as he stood in one lithe movement. Before she could say anything, he was gone, striding out of the bedroom door without a backward glance.

Her fingers went to her still tingling lips. What had she done? What the hell had she done? Had she lost the only man who still cared about her with that one impulsive act? The thought filled her with dread.

The phone went silent before starting up again. Frustrated, confused and lost, she picked it up and answered.

“Namaste Papa.” No matter how cold her rage, she was still unable to completely shrug off the etiquette drilled into her since she was a child.

“We are having a puja for Varun’s soul tomorrow. Come at ten thirty in the morning.”

Shock rendered her speechless for a moment. They hadn’t waited for her to get well enough to attend the funeral but this they wanted her to attend?

“Papa-“

“Don’t argue Dhrithi.” He cut her off. “Ma said to tell you to dress appropriately.”

“I always dress appropriately,” she defended automatically, her mind scrambling to keep up.

“You know what I mean. The white saree and all.”

“Oh!” Defiance rose like a tidal wave in her chest. “So, no red lipstick then?”

She could almost feel the frost seeping down the airwaves as Varun’s father allowed his silence to speak for him.

“I never understood why he wanted to marry you. But we indulged his whim like we always did. We thought, hopefully, the second time round he would choose better or allow us to choose a wife for him. But no. First, you couldn’t give our family an heir and then you took the only heir we already had.”

She fell silent, her emotions battling each other, raging but unvoiced. So, they had known, just as she’d suspected.

“We will have the puja at Varun’s home.”

Varun’s home.

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