24

Nandini

The stillness of the moon, as I look at it through the window, makes me want to have that same peaceful state, but I cannot bring myself to do it.

No matter how much I try, I am unable to take this nagging restlessness from my heart that I have been feeling for the last five days. It seems like a foreshadowing of something terrible about to happen.

"Why do I feel this way? Why?" I ask aloud to myself.

The last time I felt this way, Vivek was taken away from me and my parents. He was brutally killed that night because he wanted to protect me.

And what's more horrible than that is nothing was done after the murder—absolutely nothing.

After Vivek went out that night, my parents pleaded with me to call him back and forget about everything Rishabh did with me. They wanted me to stop creating a fuss and convince Vivek to destroy the evidence I gave him.

They even berated me, saying I was doing all the drama to get Vivek out of the way so they would love me.

"Even if we never had Vivek, even if you were our only child, we would have never loved you. NEVER."

Papa had said to me that day, with such contempt in his voice that I had my heart clench painfully against my chest at that moment.

Although I was saddened by how my parents, especially my mother, seemed to think me wanting to get justice for being molested by Rishabh was me creating a fuss, I did call Vivek that night to destroy the evidence.

I wanted justice but not at the price of my brother's life.

But the phone could not connect that night. I kept calling for hours, my parents panicking when Vivek did not return until the wee hours of the morning.

A shudder passes through me as I remember how dark that night was for us—being worried sick about Vivek. Crying, screaming, shouting—it was the heaviest and darkest night of my life.

And the morning that came after that night was even darker. It brought such pain into my life that it shattered me into pieces.

My brother's bloodied, lifeless body was brought to us by some police officers. His whole face was swollen, his clothes all bloody.

That was the moment I sank to the floor and cried hysterically, my parents also bitterly crying at the loss of the only child they ever loved.

"Why are you crying?"

Manik's voice snaps me out of that painful memory, and I quickly wipe my tears.

"It's nothing," I reply, trying my best not to sound teary.

Manik takes a step toward me, his face seeming as if he wants to press on the matter, but suddenly he retreats, sighing and rubbing his face before giving me a curt nod.

"So, I talked with Mom downstairs, and she said you looked gorgeous in that gown," he says, but I narrow my eyes at him.

'Why did he not press me about telling him the reason behind me crying?' I wonder.

"I did not ask because I know you would not have told me the reason," he says, making me gasp.

Did I ask that question out loud?

"No. You did not. It's the way you were looking at me that made me realize what you were thinking," he again answers my unspoken question.

Annoyed now, I huff, folding my hands over my chest. "Stop doing that."

"Stop what, Nandini?"

"Stop assuming what I am thinking," I tell him, walking to the cupboard to get a change of clothes for the night.

"But my assumptions were right, weren't they?" He asks, also walking toward the cupboard and standing beside me.

Instead of answering, I ignore him completely, not wanting to get on with this baseless back and forth with him.

To be honest, I preferred the previous brooding, angry Manik over this mercurial one.

Because he simply exhausts me. He still broods and gets angry, but he is sometimes playful and even thoughtful sometimes. It is as if he is trying to understand our equation, find common ground with me, and see if we can make this marriage work.

That is why it is getting tiring for me. It is getting harder every day to veer from his every attempt, dodge his company, and stand firm in my decision about not wanting to give our relationship even one chance.

There are times when I think about how it would feel to give in for once. To really see if we can be happy with each other.

But then, there is something that stops me every time. I am still unsure if I can trust a man who thought it acceptable to ruin a girl's life as long as he succeeded in getting his revenge.

Even if I give in this time, how can I be sure he won't break my trust if he needs to get revenge or something else from someone in the near or far future?

That is what stops me every time.

Can I really take this leap of faith toward someone who has already broken my heart and trust once? Who is to say he won't do that again?

These questions arise in my mind each time I think about taking one step into giving this marriage a chance.

Taking a deep breath, I shake my head, not attempting to sort those thoughts this evening.

I am simply too tired for it. With the restless still large at my heart, and the emotional upheaval that snippet of painful memory caused, I feel like I have no energy to deal with anything else.

All I will do is get changed, go down and have dinner, and try to sleep.

With that thought in my mind, I am about to take out a comfortable t-shirt and pajama to wear for the night when Manik suddenly clutches my hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask, freeing my hand from his hold.

"Umm, well, I was thinking—" He pauses, making me frown at his reticent demeanor.

"What were you thinking, Manik?"

He sighs, fidgeting for a few seconds before walking to the bed and taking a bag from the bed.

When he walks back to me and forwards that bag toward me, I feel confused by what he is trying to do.

"I....umm...this is for you," he tells me.

It makes me curious because this is the first time I have seen him this flustered.

So, taking the bag from his hand, I take out the box that is inside it.

"What is this?" I ask, curiously looking at the box.

"Well, open the box to find out," he says, smiling slightly nervously at me.

Frowning, I keep the bag on the table and open the box, only to feel a sudden rush of emotions as I look at the dress inside the box.

I know the dress is expensive, not only by looking at its packaging but also because I had seen it when Manik took me to that big shopping mall a few weeks back.

This is one dress that had caught my eye then. It looked so pretty that, not wanting to get it dirty, I had wiped my hands before running my fingers over the fabric.

That is what made me emotional. The fact that Manik remembered it.

It could not be a coincidence that he got this dress for me without remembering me appraising it that day, could it?

"Why did you buy this for me?" I ask, slowly taking the dress out of the box.

Manik shuffles his feet awkwardly, his face slightly flushed as he clears his throat before speaking. "I remembered you looking at that dress when we went to the mall that day. So, I thought you would like it."

The way he looks at me when he says that, it makes....

No. Stop it, Nandini. Stop it.

"I can't take this, Manik. I also did not buy this dress that day because I can't afford it."

"But this is a gift, Nandini," he says, not taking the box from me when I forward it toward him.

"Please, Manik, this is--"

"I understand why you are hesitant to take it," he interrupts me. "But, Nandini, you had said you would let me try. And this is me trying.

"I am not saying I am going to shower you with expensive gifts, so you would say yes to giving our marriage a chance. Because after knowing what kind of person you are, I also know that it would be the worst tactic to make you say yes.

"But I brought this dress for you because I had seen how much you liked it that day, and I wanted to give you something that would make you smile. So, you would not say no to the question written on the piece of paper inside the dress," he tells me.

"What piece of paper?" I frown, carefully unfolding the dress, keeping it on the bed, when I see the piece of paper stuck on its waistline.

Taking off the paper, I read the question.

Go out with me for dinner tonight? Please, Nandini?

A smile curves my lips as I read it, and I shake my head, looking at Manik.

"What is this, Manik?" I ask, pointing to the paper in my hand.

"You said you would go out with me if I found a way to make you say yes," he replies. "And since you smiled at the gesture..." He trails off, looking expectantly at me.

My mind is screaming at me, telling me to say no because I still do not trust Manik.

Then there is my heart, whispering to take just one step, to be courageous, and see where it leads me.

So now, the question is, who should I listen to?

My mind? Or, my heart?