Page 49 of The Secret She Kept in Bollywood

Anya searched for the right words, knowing that there might not be any. “I would never think that of her. No one who knows Meera’s confidence, Meera’s faith in the mere memory of her mother, would think that.”

“One minute we were arguing, the next she was gone. I started seeing myself as a monster. I was the one who’d denied her what she so desperately wanted. I was the one who’d blindly decided we’d ride it out if I just ignored her demands. If I had agreed to the IVF, maybe she’d have conceived this time. Maybe it wouldn’t have pushed her into that restlessness again. Maybe she wouldn’t have been driving so recklessly that day. Maybe she wouldn’t have felt so alone. The truth was, we didn’t love each other anymore. Guilt ravaged me after her death, not grief, and that realization made it even worse, like a vicious cycle.”

“You can’t just assume that she was driving recklessly, Simon. It could simply have been a ghastly accident. You can’t go down that way of thinking—it’ll end up destroying you.”

“How can I not, Anya?”

“Because you yourself told me how much she loved Meera. I’ve seen that love in every word Meera speaks. You know, in your heart, Simon, that Rani would have never endangered her life like that. Not when she knew how it might affect Meera.” Anya took his hands, willing him to see her. “You have to remember that she loved Meera. That while your marriage might have been irretrievably broken, she wasn’t, Simon. You have to remember her as a capable, brilliant woman. The woman you once admired and respected and loved. Just because things fell apart between you two doesn’t mean her verve for life was over.”

“I do, now.” Sadness lingered in his eyes but there was also acceptance. “It took me all this time to see that. That guilt will make you see horrible things, corrupt everything that’s good and right too. That Rani lived a full, wonderful life that got cut short brutally. I know she would have thrived whatever new direction life took her in. It just wouldn’t have been as my wife.”

He pulled her up and into his lap before Anya could draw another breath. “Something Virat said at your birthday party made me take stock of the fear I was clinging to in the name of guilt. And sweetheart, I’ve been so in awe of you...and how bravely you’ve reached for life, how full of love and generosity and courage you are. How you decided that you’d just love Meera whether she knew who you were or not. How you made me come alive. Made me see I was denying myself happiness because of useless guilt. God, if Rani were here, even she’d have told me I’d become a foolish old man. That I was lucky to have another chance at love.”

Anya hid her face in his throat. “I’m sorry for being so disrespectful toward her memory by saying I resented her. I was just miserable that you seemed to be leaving me when I was in love with you, and I know now that my body was also putting me through a hormonal wringer... I was at my worst. I’m sorry, Simon.”

“Hush, sweetheart. The Rani I once knew would’ve never asked me to live a false life, bound to her. Not when my heart wasn’t in it anymore. You’re the most real thing I’ve ever seen, Angel, even when you think you’re at your worst.”

“You’ve made it easy for me to be brave, Simon. You make it so...easy to love you. You gave me everything I needed before I even knew I needed it.”

“Then is it that hard to believe I feel the same about you, Anya?” His mouth peppered soft, butterfly kisses over her eyes, her nose, her cheeks and then the corner of her mouth. “I’m so absolutely in love with you, Angel.” His palm moved to her belly and Anya felt his shuddering gasp as he felt the small but distinct swell of her belly. “And this baby...”

She shook her head, feeling as if she was being cleaved in two. “Please, don’t lie to me, Simon. I can take anything but lies. You never wanted another child. You’ve said that enough times. I know you’d never resent an innocent child but he or she deserves more. I deserve more.”

“You do,” he said, rubbing the lone tear on her cheek. “Absolutely. You and this baby deserve to be loved and cherished. And I’d never lie to you. But will you hear the truth in my words? Will you give me that much, Angel?”

Anya nodded, every cell in her wanting him, wanting a future with him.

His gaze was steady, full of faith in her, full of love and affection that was like a balm to her soul. “Our marriage was already damaged even before Rani decided having a child would fix her. Would fix us. I couldn’t imagine bringing a baby into that kind of unstable atmosphere. But you...you came into my life when I never expected to have another chance at love. I had all but given up on myself. I never expected to fall so madly in love with you, Anya. I fought it every inch. But God, now, I can’t imagine life without you by my side. Can I not feel the same about this baby? How could I not fall in love with an innocent child that’s a part of you and me? How could I not want a future with you and this baby and Meera, as a family?”

“I’d hate for you to resent me. For you to feel caught up in this without having had a say.”

His fingers banding around the nape of her neck, he tilted her until she looked at him. “If you don’t want to marry me, that’s fine. I’m not at all worried about Meera because she knows how much I adore you. I don’t care what the world or your brothers think. I only want you to know that I’m more than happy if you’ll just let me be a part of your life and this baby’s.” He took her hand and kissed the knuckles, his gaze full of love. “All I want is a host of tomorrows with you, Anya.”

Anya pulled her hand away and swatted his arm.

He froze, his heart in his eyes. How had she not seen it before? “Tell me what you need, Angel. Anything you want,” he murmured, repeating the words he’d said to her that first evening.

Anya buried her fingers in his thick hair and tugged. “I mean, yes, I’m a modern woman but still... For once, Simon De Acosta, I want to be asked. I want to be cajoled. I want to be...persuaded into being your wife.”

He was on his knees in a heartbeat and Anya laughed. In his big broad palm was the exact replica of a stunning ring they’d seen in his friend’s collection which Anya had fallen in love with.

A giant ruby nestled among tiny diamonds and the whole thing was set in antique gold...a king’s symbol of love for the girl he’d adored his entire life. “That’s so beautiful. When did you have it made?”

“I saw how your eyes popped that night when Malik let us see his collection. I asked him if I could borrow it to get a replica made and he agreed. On the condition that we don’t advertise where we got the design from. I was happy to reassure him that you would absolutely respect his need to keep the collection and all its valuable designs private.”

“Oh...but that was weeks ago and you didn’t even...know you were in love with me then.”

Raising a brow, Simon made a mock bow. “Glad to know you have the timeline right in your head, Angel.”

“Why did you have it made then?”

“Because even when I didn’t understand it, or admit it, in my heart, I knew you were precious to me. I wanted to gift it to you because I knew how much you’d appreciate it. How much you’d adore it. And I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to give something to the girl who was strong and beautiful and as precious as this design.”

Anya fell to the floor in an awkward movement, laughing and crying. Simon caught her, his arms tight around her, his embrace warm and everything she’d ever asked for. “You did give me something. My own heart back to me so that I could start living again. And it’s now yours, to keep. I love you, Simon.”

His mouth pressed to her temple, he dangled the ring in front of her. “I was also hoping that the ring might convince you, if my meager heart couldn’t. I told myself that at least the artist in you might be tempted.”

She swatted him and whispered against his mouth. “You still haven’t asked me.”

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