Conscientious Choices!!

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story. All the characters are fictional. The incident itself is a creation. Any resemblance to people or to the situations in the real world, is purely coincidental.

---------------------------------------

She looked across the hall from over the rim of her champagne glass.

The casual grace with which he stood, the slight curve of his mouth, the attention in his eyes and then she heard his voice, the educated lyric in his words and then the chuckle that escaped his lips. She stood stark still, taking in everything she could hold, his masculinity, his charm, his grace, his aura, his very presence. She wants to snatch him away, from all these people.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?”, she heard someone say.
“Oh My! Bless my soul!!! He is superb and he is also insanely rich”, she heard someone answer.
“I think he is gay”, someone quipped.
“Oh no, he is not. He cannot be. I just set my eyes on him and he is mine”, someone said.

“He is mine and mine alone”, she thought as she looked in the direction from where she heard these comments. The societal vultures casting hungry eyes at their latest prey. She want to shoo them away. She walked across to them and said, “Sure is hot in here”. They glanced at each other knowingly and in a mock whisper said, “Sure it is not you?” and laughed out loud. The crass talk so much a part of their lives as the deception they are capable of. They were babbling all along, but her mind was else where, wandering down to the man who held everyone’s attention. Their eyes met and he smiled at her.

Neither time nor distance mattered any longer, when the familiarity blurred and she was hooked to his vision as he was to her. The people and the room slipped to oblivion, the future mattered little, what mattered was the present and the NOW. She was suspended in time…

“I love you”, she said.
“I love you too…”, she heard him say.

She looked at him and there was kindness in his eyes. She waited knowing that he was not through.

“I cannot do it. Not now. I need time. I just cannot walk away. I have responsibilities”, he said.
“How long?”, she asked quietly.
“A few more days”, he said.
“Don’t… don’t lie to me”, she said, barely able to let out the words, as her vision clouded at the now familiar words that escaped his lips.
“I..”, he was about to say something.

Gesturing him to wait, she said, “I know that the days make years too and I also know the implicit meaning in your words. It only matters that you CARED enough to hold me till now. It only matters that I love you.”
“I love..”
“Don’t… say that”, she silenced him with the pain in her voice. “Don’t say you love me. Not now, not ever”, she said, turning away from him. “You have your priorities and I am not one of them”, she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“Now, just wait a minute, wait a damn minute. You are my priority. I Lo..”, he stopped midway at the look she gave him.
“I love you. I need time”, he said, imploring.

If looks could kill, he would have been dead a thousand times, at the look she gave him. The disgust, the mistrust, the anger and above all the hurt on her face hurled a thousand obscenities at him, but it was her hurt that stopped him dead in his tracks and wished he were dead.
“Goodbye”, she said, walking away.

He watched until he could see her no longer and murmured, “Goodbye my love. Be happy.”

He knew it would be pointless to talk to her. He knew this would be a very long night for her. He knew he has tough times ahead of him to convince her that he loved her. It matters not what the world thought of him, but it mattered what she thought of him.

She recalled this conversation with him five years ago and the pain with which she left him came back to her, freezing her in place as she met his gaze. He held her eyes and his eyes touched her everywhere, the five years stripped to a momentary glance, into the thousand questions in his eyes, the shock on his face, the warmth in his eyes…

She was jolted out of her reverie when she heard, “Sir, meet my lovely wife”, and saw her husband waving at her to join them.
As she walked to them she noticed the pain in his eyes as he tried to hold himself together.
“Honey, meet my boss Ankit”, she heard her husband say.
“Hello”, she said, politely.
She saw his face change and contort into a smile, “Congratulations!! Sidhu is the best of our best”, he managed to stutter.

He was standing in her reception, staring at her in front of her husband! A day into her marriage and he already threw in a challenge, as if her life was not complicated enough without his presence here. All of a sudden he wanted to rip this guy to pieces, tear him with his bear hands. He has no right to touch her, no right to even stand beside her. She was his, by choice.

He looked at her again and her eyes were burning into him.

“Ankit”, he said, holding out his hand.
“Ankit..a”, she said, shaking his hand.

The slight pause evident only to him just as her heartbeat was evident only to him. The way she said her name was just like the old times, pronouncing his name first and then adding the ‘a’ quietly, her way of saying they were together, forever. He - entwined inseparably in her. Without her he had no meaning and without him, she had no identity that she cared for.

Now he understood why the invitation read, “Mr. and Mrs. Varma.”
One look at the invitation and he laughed out loud saying, “Mrs. Varma? What, she has no name?” and Sidhu answered, “She wanted to be addressed as Mrs. Varma. Her wish, my command”, he answered proudly. He never understood why anyone would want to do that, just a day into their marriage.

Now he understood… that she chose to remain his…