Page 38 of Born in Sin

Celi. The click of that door had taken her from Cara to Celi in a heartbeat.

“What do you want, Virat?” she asked briskly, shoving the deluge of memories that threatened to crash through her mental and emotional walls, sweeping her heart along for the ride, back into her mental iron box of discarded memories and sealing it shut.

“You said that there were things about that night that only you knew.” He walked over to where she stood, stopping so close that she had to tip her face back to look up at him. His six-foot, lean muscled frame towered over her own petite five feet and two inches. “Was that how they got you to come out of the dorm at night? By pretending to be me?”

Cara sealed her lips shut. This wasn’t a conversation they needed to have. It was redundant, a slice of life from a lifetime ago.

“They used me, used what we had, what we shared, to get to you, didn’t they?”

His eyes burned, a flame unchecked, as they met hers.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said softly, wanting to bank the flames with logic.

“It matters to me.”

Cara sighed. “Yes. My roommate gave me the message when I got back to my room from dinner with my parents. I thought you wanted to meet. I was surprised because you’d told me that you had plans with Amay and Ishaan to celebrate graduation day. I didn’t understand why you were calling me there.”

“And still, you came.”

“I told you, Vir,” she replied, smiling sadly. “You call and I’ll come. Every single day.”

“I never knew.” The grieving pain in his voice sounded like crushed gravel.

“How would you know?” she asked, her own hurt spilling over. “You left me in that hospital and walked away. We didn’t exactly have many opportunities for long talks dissecting what happened. It’s hard to talk to someone who disappears.”

It was his turn to fall silent, his face pale but set. She waited, her stupid, stupid heart hoping he had an explanation, an excuse that would make so much sense that she could fall into his arms again, weeping happy tears.

But there was nothing. Only silence.

Of course there wasn’t anything, she told her naïve heart. He had no excuse.

“The answer is yes. They used what we had shared to get me to come out of my room. Clearly, we weren’t as good as we thought we were at keeping it a secret.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were a low, guttural, rumble.

“Why?” Genuine surprise flitted over her face. “That wasn’t your fault, Virat. What they did, what they tried to do, that’s entirely on them.”

“They took you to get back at me,” he told her now, anguish seeping through every syllable. “I wouldn’t give them what they want. I wouldn’t submit. So, they came for the only person that held value in my life. The only person who saw value in me. I’m the reason for what happened that night. Your mother was right. You should have stayed away from me.”

“I don’t blame you for what they did, irrespective of their reasons.” Cara swiped at a single tear that escaped her. “I don’t even blame you for leaving me afterwards. Which eighteen-year-old boy would want to be saddled with a broken girlfriend? I don’t blame you. I even understand at some level. But what they broke, Virat…you shattered.”

Another tear escaped her iron control and streaked down her cheek and she swiped at it roughly. A broad hand with a calloused palm lifted to her face, the thumb extending to catch the next one that slipped out.

“I may not blame you for leaving me,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said roughly, his hand cupping her face gently like she was glass on the cusp of shattering. “I will never forgive myself.”

Why, she cried silently, why did you do it? Why did you break every promise we made to each other? Wordlessly, she turned her face into his palm, her lips caressing the ball of his thumb. His sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room. His grip tightened for a heartbeat and then his mouth was crashing down on hers.

Desperate, frantic need exploded inside her as she met him halfway, her hand going to hold the back of his head, fingers slipping through the rough silk of his hair, fisting in it and tugging him closer, impossibly closer. She nipped his lower lip, drawing blood, the metallic tang of it filling her mouth as her tongue tangled with his, a dance as old as time, and one as new to her as a babe in the womb.

Chest heaving, jagged breaths mingling, they fought for a minute, a second, a microsecond more of each other. Pain, anger, lust, grief, clashed in a soundless fury that seemed to consume them. Her hands traced his body, so familiar and yet, so foreign. She saw echoes of the boy she loved lost in the man who kissed her like he was drowning in his need for her.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. Virat and Cara shoved away from each other, wild eyes locked on the other, hearts threatening to burst out of their ribcages.

“Cara?” Kabir’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Are you done?”

NO!

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