Page 95 of The Surviving Sky
“You have an explanation for everything,” Ahilya said quietly. “But you don’t see how inadequate it all is.”
“It is thetruth—”
“Is it? Oam was an accident, and Bharavi’s death was forarchitectreasons. You’ve already cleared your conscience of any misconduct by claiming you saved my life while interfering with my expedition. I can’t wait to hear what your explanation is for what you did to Dhruv.”
Iravan’s expression changed. A muscle in his jaw twitched. Without seeming to know it, he took an aggressive step forward.
“Dhruv?” he asked coldly. “Dhruv broke the law. And Istillheld mysilence—”
“Or maybe you designed this somehow from the very start. He told me it wasyouwho pushed Kiana into exchanging sungineers the next time the ashrams met,youwho forced the battery. Did you want him to get transferred? Surely as a councilor, you were aware of a sungineer’s limitations, and I know you never liked him.”
Iravan’s eyes glinted in fury. He stood a handbreadth away. She could hear his agitated breathing. “It washewho never liked me, but it seems you’re willing to listen to everyone’s version of the truth except for mine. To every other account except myown—”
“You haven’t shown yourself worthy oftrust—”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t have brought any of this up,” he snarled, speaking over her, “if I had fully acquiesced to you. If I had pretended all along that you were the only important thing in my life, the ashram and the rest of my obligations bedamned—”
“Acquiesced tome?” Ahilya shouted, incredulous. “This has always been about you and your reputation, your career as an architect, your materialbonds—”
“Maybe it would have been better had I openly lied to you,” he continued, his eyes flashing. “Agreed with everything you ever said, even if it went against my own principles, against my own logic. But there have been enough deceits in my life without that, and you’ll forgive me, Ahilya, if I didn’t want to add our marriage to the list.”
Ahilya stepped forward, inches away from Iravan, glaring up at him.
“You want the truth, Iravan?” she spat. “This, then, is the truth. All of this with Bharavi and Dhruv and Oam only spared me from keeping the farce of our marriage going. Your manipulations and power tactics, your arrogance as an architect, your secrets and your games, were all indications that you’re a terrible husband and will make an even worse father. I’d have decided to leave you even if none of this had happened.” She removed his rudra bead bracelet and flung it at his chest. It slid down, and he caught it in his hands.
Iravan flinched once, then stilled.
His eyebrows drew together, but as he stared at her, Ahilya got the impression he was really staring at himself. He remained unmoving for an eternal second, his head dipped down to her, his breathing erratic. Ahilya didn’t move, either; she couldn’t have even if she’d wanted. They stood there, a few inches apart, their chests rising and falling, their home becoming smaller, more oppressive. A dozen thoughts chased each other in Ahilya’s mind. Iravan weeping. The contempt in his eyes in the solar lab. His kiss and the taste of him, how full and empty he’d seemed at the same time.
Finally, Iravan nodded as though in understanding of something.
His voice, when he spoke, was emotionless. “I needed this clarity, Ahilya. Thank you for giving it to me. The house is yours. I’ll send someone to collect my things and guide you through our separation.”
The bark closed behind him. Ahilya clutched the shelf with a dry sob, her heart pounding in her chest.
32
AHILYA
Ahilya slept poorly that night. In her restless dreams, Iravan came to her, dressed in his spotless white kurta and tapered trousers, his dark skin a shining contrast. He tipped her chin up with a finger to kiss her, but his eyes were hard.
“We were never good for each other,” she said to him, full of sadness. “An architect and a non-architect. We should have known from the start.”
“We’re perfect for each other,” he growled, angrier than he’d ever been, more handsome than he’d ever looked. “A murderer and a smuggler. What could be more fitting?”
And he began to laugh, and she laughed with him, hoarsely, piercingly, holding on to him while between them lay the shadow of a child, a family they would never have.
She awoke abruptly, reaching a hand to the other side of the bed.
Of course. He wasn’t there.
He hadn’t been home in a long time. He wouldn’t come back. Ahilya sat up, a leaden weight in her stomach. The bed had narrowed, the living wood large enough only for her. Her mouth moved to speak his name, but they were truly finished now.
Ahilya put her hands over her ears, but she could still hear the awful words.Love is meaningless when a person can’t feel. Non-architects never fully understand. If I had pretended you were the only important thing in my life. She looked up, breathing heavily, and the leaves in their home rustled, as though he had only just walked out. She could still feel the touch of his lips, from the dream, from two days before, but when she inhaled, she couldn’t smell the firemint in their home anymore.
Ahilya rose to her feet, dazed. The apartment was unrecognizable. Their home—herhomenow—hadchanged overnight. He had removed his presence entirely. The third story was gone. No phosphorescence glimmered on the walls. The ceiling had lowered, oppressive, not intimate. Not even in the seven months of his absence had their house looked so bereft of him. Just as easily as that, he’d cut himself away. Gasping, Ahilya dressed hastily. She had to get away. She had to leave.
Her solarnote on the shelf blinked rapidly, an indication of a significant message, but it could only be the divorce papers. He had already drawn them up, wasting no time in ending their marriage. The thought of reading them choked her. Ahilya waved a hand to the wall, and a doorway opened to one of the main thoroughfares of the ashram. She hurried out, unable to bear the specter of her loss.
