Pallavi hesitated outside her husband’s study, staring at the ornate brass doorknob. Would he get annoyed if she disturbed him? A week back, she wouldn’t have thought twice before barging in. Raghav too would have taken the opportunity to spar with her verbally, or on some days bicker over a game like Monopoly. In their short marriage, these evenings had become sacrosanct to her. A shared space where they were just a man and a woman, enjoying each other’s company.
As Pallavi raised a hand to knock, she came to a sudden realization for the painful void in her heart.
She wanted him.
She wanted the silent appreciation in his eyes at a particularly sassy retort. Like before, she wanted to curl up with a good book in this very study, while he worked on his vast business projects. The comfort of his presence, the teasing banter, the startling beauty of his smile…
In these few months, she had seen different sides to her husband. Facets he hid behind a terrifying aura. His charm, when he teased away her sullens. The charismatic smirk when they shared a glance across a room. His boundless compassion towards the needy. The way his face lit up with joy on hearing a child’s laughter. His absolute devotion towards his family, irrespective of their acrimony.
But a sea change had taken over Raghav in the past week. An aloof indifference that cut her to the quick. It was as if he went out of his way to stay away from her. At first, she had assumed him a busy man but now she was dead certain – he was avoiding her like she was a pariah. Had she done something to offend him? Did he think her crazy for believing Mandaar was alive? Had he changed his mind about bridging the distance between them? What could have happened between the time they were together that fated day to when he emerged from the study a changed man?
Pallavi had no answers, just teeming questions that drove her mad all day and kept her awake at night. All she knew anymore was that she couldn’t bear to prolong this distance. Not anymore.
Gathering her courage, she knocked sharply twice. She waited impatiently, playing with the folds of her midnight blue nightgown. The door opened with a soft click. Farhad stood at the entrance, looking surprised, and then pleased. “Arre aap, Vahini.Itni der raat? Is all okay?”
She returned his smile warmly. “Yeh toh mujhe aap se poochna chahiye. My husband should give you a raise. Aap toh unke saaye se bhi zyada saath dete hain, Farhad.” As he chuckled, her eyes looked past him towards Raghav. Her husband was seated behind his monstrous desk, a ferocious scowl on his face. Not even the soft hues of the room could hide the sombre atmosphere of his intimidating presence.
A laptop and huge files were spread all over his desk, making Pallavi feel like an errant child for interrupting him at work. His eyes met hers irritably, before pointedly looking away.
It hurt.
“Woh main…” A sudden lump in her throat made it embarrassingly hard to speak. She swallowed, her gaze on the man coolly perusing his files. “Raghav room mein aaj bhi nahi aaya toh I thought…Nevermind that. Aap dono ne dinner kiya tha na? I made Palak Paneer just like you wanted.”
The abrupt change in subject was not lost on Farhad. He winced internally at the wounded look in her gentle eyes. “Oh, yes, Vahini. We loved the dish! Sorry, aapko shukriya kehna bhool gaya tha main.” He glanced towards his boss, who was stoutly ignoring his wife by pretending to mull over minute business issues. “Sir…” he ventured carefully, knowing Raghav’s temper was close to the furnace these days. “Anna, agar aap chahein toh yeh sab main dekh leta hoon. Aap Pallavi Vahini ke saath-“
“Farhad.” Just one word. A grim warning.
He quietened, giving Pallavi a helpless shrug. There was no arguing when Raghav Rao was on the warpath. He had a plan, and there was nothing Farhad could say to deter him. It was always better to just let the storm tide over.
Unfortunately, Pallavi Rao was not a woman to back down.
“Problem kya hai tumhari?” she burst out, stepping past Farhad into the room. Raghav looked up again, glancing at his right-hand man meaningfully.
“Vahini, aap-“
“Nahi, Farhad,” she held up a hand, grey eyes flashing with pent up anger. “You will not say anything. Mujhe mere pati se kuch baat karni hai. Akele mein. If you don’t mind…”
Before Raghav could protest, Farhad was out the door. This was not a battle he wanted to be caught in the middle of.
Pallavi shut the door, turning towards her husband. “So. The great Raghav Rao. The angry don of Hyderabad. Tell me. What is your problem, huh? Aisa kya kar diya hai maine ki tum mere saath aise behave kar rahe ho?”
He glanced up at her, a frigid undercurrent in his gaze. She crossed her arms, staring him down. There was no way she was backing down tonight.
He shut his laptop with a loud snap, getting to his feet. A restless energy radiated off him, making her feel nervous about the initiated confrontation. He hadn’t even changed; was wearing the black suit from earlier in the day, white shirt unbuttoned halfway. The unexpected glimpse of a bronzed chest sprinkled with dark curls, distracted her for a moment. She forgot her carefully planned tirade, staring mutely at the powerful man in front of her. Why did he have to be so frustratingly gorgeous?
His hair was artfully mussed, a stray lock caressing the frown line in the middle of his forehead. Pallavi had the sudden impulse to tenderly draw it away from his face.
“Oh hello, madam?” He snapped his fingers rudely once, bringing her back to earth. “Kidhar kho gaya?” An embarrassed flush creeped up her cheeks. What the hell had she been thinking?
“I was saying-“
“Pehla tum mereko batao,” he interrupted. “Tumhara problem kya hai? Aisa clingy biwi ki tarah kyun peecha kar raha hai?”
“Clingy? Main? How dare you-“
“Shut up!” She jumped at the sharpness in his tone. His nostrils flared angrily. “Mereko bahot kaam hai. Tumhara jaisa faltu baatein karne ka time nahi hai mera paas. Now…” He stepped around the desk, striding towards the door with the aggression of a battle ram. “If you don’t mind.” He opened it, looking at her expectantly.
Pallavi stared at him, feeling lost and confused. Who was this man? Why was he behaving this way? Had she imagined the almost kiss between them last week? His burning touch on her skin, the warmth of his body against hers as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear…Could it all have been a dream?
“Raghav…” his name was a plea on her tongue. Her voice trembled with the effort to keep speaking past the tightness in her throat. “Kya hua hai? What aren’t you telling me? Kal Holi hai and maine socha-“
“Tum zyada socho nakko,” he spoke coldly. “Mera kal business meeting hai in Bangalore. Pehla wala toh tumhara Mandaar wala hallucinations ka wajah se miss ho gaya. I can’t miss the second one. Kal subah ka flight hai. Bahot kaam hai mereko. I have to wrap things up before I go.”
“Kal subah? Par…par kal Holi hai, Raghav,” she couldn’t help repeating. “Humari pehliHoli…” She trailed off at his irate expression. “Oh. Right. You don’t care. Sorry, main bhool gayi thi. Theek hai. Jao tum. Mujhe bhi koi farak nahi padhta.”
He caught her hand as she passed by him. His touch stilled her, a bittersweet longing falling on her cheek in the form of a lone tear. She wiped it away furiously.
“Saree ka dukaan-“
“Mera naam Pallavi hai!” she twisted away, hating his touch. Hating that familiar epithet that had become a shared joke after the wedding. Hating how her feelings threatened to shatter her from within. “You wanted me to go na? Jaa rahi hoon main! Why are you stopping me now?”
He blocked her way, banging the door impatiently. She flinched. Any harder and the carpenters would get a Holi bonus tomorrow.
“Apna bak bak band karega tum?” he bit out, sliding his hands into his pockets. It only served to make him seem taller and more unreachable. She felt like an ant’s worth in front of him, her dignity lying in tatters at his feet. “I have something important to say.”
“And I…I have better things to d-do.” Her voice caught on a silent sob. She moved to elbow her way past him. He caught her arm firmly, swiveling her around. “Enough!” she shouted, stunning him momentarily. “Don’t you dare touch me again!”
His grip tightened as she struggled, the fire in her gaze reflected in his volatile depths. “Mereko koi maza nahi aa raha hai tumhara saath time waste karke,” he growled, a dangerous note entering his deep baritone. “I have kept a Holi party for the staff tomorrow. Main kal nahi hai toh tum usse host karega mera absence mein. Ardhamainda?”
A surprised laugh escaped her. She shrugged off his hand forcefully. “Wow, you have some guts, Mr. Rao. Waise toh tum apni biwi se seedhe mooh baat nahi karte. But now, when you have need of me, you want me to be your hostess?” She leaned closer, her eyes glittering with derision. “Jawab hai mere paas tumhari iss nonsensical demand ke liye.”
Raghav looked down at her dispassionately, like she was no more threatening than a kitten. It peeved her into poking his broad chest with a finger. “Read. My. Lips…” She followed each word with a sharp jab, looking daringly into his obsidian eyes. “I…I…” His intense gaze dropped dutifully to her mouth, throwing her off track.
There was silence as they stared at each other. She drew in a shaky breath, her thoughts haywire again under his unsettling scrutiny.
“Yes…You were saying?” Raghav encouraged softly, his gaze turning hooded as he watched her parted lips. She moistened them nervously. Molten heat leapt to life in the erstwhile chilly depths of his eyes, rendering her speechless.
Was he leaning closer? Or was that her? Pallavi blinked, feeling like she was in a sensuous trance. The room felt smaller, the air too heated.
“Go on…I’m…watching…” his silken timbre rolled down her spine like a provocative caress. Yes, he was definitely leaning closer. She licked her lips again, her hand splaying across his suit fabric of its own volition. This was tempting. So damn tempting. It would be so easy to slide sideways across the shirt…under the shirt…across the satin of his skin…into those soft curls…
“No,” she exhaled, shaking her head as if to clear the enticing lustful thoughts. “No!”
Raghav’s hypnotic gaze snapped to hers. “What?”
Putting pressure on his chest, she inched him back with steely resolve. “I will nothost your party. Apne paison se ek hostess khareed lena. Your wife has other plans tomorrow.”
Her words broke the seductive spell, igniting the atmosphere in the room in an entirely different way.
“Pallavi Rao,” he snarled, looming over her. “Don’t test my patience. Party tum hi host karega and that is final.”
“No,” she stood her ground, holding his fiery gaze with her own. “Jo insaan meri izzat nahi karta, main uske liye kuch bhi kyun karoon?”
“Because you have no choice!” he roared, making her jump. She stared wide eyed as something feral surged behind his irises. It sent a chill through her. This was not the Raghav she knew. He hadn’t spoken to her ever in this way. “Tum wahi karega jo main chahta hai. Warna…” He paused for effect. “I will make your precious Deshmukh khandaan ka life hell. Much worse than the first time. Do you remember?” Bending his head towards her, he hissed near her ear. “Don’t test me, biwi. You will regret it.”
She backed away from him, grey eyes huge in terror. The moment her foot stepped past the threshold, Raghav slammed the door on her. It locked with a decisive click.
Utter humiliation brought furious tears to her eyes. “Raghav Rao,” she whispered, the broken shards of her heart piercing her from within. “No. It is you who will regret this.”
* * *