“Please send up tea service for four. And two orders of samosas and some pakoras, please.” George looked worried as he spoke to room service, and motioned to Alina to get Sharmila and Wajid some water and give them a minute to catch their breath before pelting them with more questions.
Alina sprang into action. In addition to water, she gave Wajid a pill for the pain and brought both of them damp towels from the bathroom so they could freshen up. Neither of them looked like they were ready to share anything.
“Ma, what is happening? Your eyes are so swollen. What is going on?”
Looking exhausted and forlorn, Sharmila took a deep breath and began to speak slowly. She related how they couldn’t find him in the first place and ended up at the second safe house.
“I guess we found him, but not in a way that we wanted,” Wajid added.
“What is that supposed to mean? Is he suffering from an illness? Did he not remember you?” Alina was exasperated, while George just sat quietly and listened.
Sharmila looked at Wajid with sad eyes. He nodded.
“So, the old man who watches over the safe house told us that Vikram had lived there on and off for years. He had many mental issues after the incident at the bridge. The man said he wanted to leave at first, to go be with his family but…” Sharmila felt the bile rise in her throat.
“It is an ugly part of our history as humans,” Wajid said. “Vikram heard about and saw the slaughter of men and women who tried to go back to their villages. He soon understood he was a marked man, a sort of walking corpse, in the words of the old man.”
Alina placed her hand on her heart. “I can’t even imagine what his life must have been like.”
Sharmila looked steadily into Alina’s widened eyes. “Alina, your father was alive till a few months ago. He was being moved from one safe house to another. On the way there was an accident, and no one survived. The old man who met us had performed Vikram’s last rites and spread his ashes over the land behind the house there.”
Sharmila’s eyes were empty and her words came out slowly. Wajid tried to add some details, but he could barely speak.
There was painful silence in the room, until Sharmila tried to say what she thought would ease some of the deep pain. “In a way, I am relieved he lived in a safe place for many years.”
“Are you going to call his mother?” Alina asked. “Of course, you must be happy he’s dead, right, Ma? So now you can do whatever the hell you want.” Alina stormed out of the room.
Sharmila got up to go after her, but George rose too. “Wait. She is just upset. Let me go get her.”
“No, no. You both stay here. I will make sure she is okay,” Wajid offered. He left the room just as the room service waiter came in with the order. Sharmila managed to control herself until the waiter left.
“Do you think she is right? Do you think I am that evil that I wanted him to be dead so that I could be with the man I love now?” Sharmila couldn’t hold back the anger in her voice. “After everything I have done for her, loved her, left everything for her, this child? This child doubts her mother’s integrity?”
George cleared his throat. “She’s just upset. All this is very stressful. Things have been up and down since she got here. She is still young. You know she loves you. She will come around.”
Sharmila went to the window to take one last look at the scenic mountains outside the room.
“And you? What about you? You don’t think I have integrity either, do you?”
“How are you getting that?” George looked surprised and upset.
Sharmila turned on him, her eyes a complex storm of emotions that raged within her.
“I think I told you that I had made peace with the fact that my life with Vikram was over. I loved him with all my heart, and his memory is sacred. But when I opened up to you and told you how I felt, I don’t think you understood that.”
George stayed quiet for a minute. “Sharmila, it was hard. I wondered what I would have done if Daneen came back. I thought you would want to be with him. That you were still longing for him. I couldn’t compete with that. I don’t want to.”
Sharmila shook her head. “That is where we are different. I yearned for Vikram to be alive when you came and told me that there was a chance. Not for me, but for Alina. My love for him has—I don’t know how to explain it—I suppose it has transformed into a deep, enduring affection and a longing for him to be a part of Alina’s life.”
“I don’t know what I would have done if it was Daneen and there was a chance that she was still alive.” George tried to be open, but his voice was quivering with uncertainty, even anger.
“You think I am this fickle? When I told you how I felt, do you think that was because of just circumstance? You think my love for you would change if there was any other man on the scene?”
George leaned back, reining in his own emotions. “I didn’t say that,” he replied, defensive. “But it’s natural to have doubts, isn’t it? We haven’t known each other for very long.”
She stood up, her anger flaring. “Doubts? You doubt my love for you?”
He rose to his feet as well, his frustration mirroring hers. “No, it’s not about doubting your love. It’s about trust. Trust takes time to build.”