A Perfect Mismatch (16 page)

A long time elapsed and she didn’t know how she managed not to cry. She would go and ask Armaan. It could not be the truth! He would have told her. What was there to hide anyway? She rose on trembling legs and went to the studio. She clung on to the feeble hope in her heart that he cared at least now. She had seen it in his eyes and she knew why he was not willing to commit.

The studio was quiet as she entered. She found Armaan working at a large canvas. The colours on the seascape were vibrant and permeated the studio with its thrumming energy. She slid into a stool a little further away without disturbing him. He seemed to be working with frenzy and as usual, she could feel the energy field around him sizzle as he poured a can of azure blue and aquamarine into the ceramic basin on the table. Dipping his hands into the rich colour, he spread it over the canvas making patterns with his fingers. He was pouring his blazing, creative aura onto the canvas. Hesitant to disturb his train of thought she refrained from saying anything for a while. It did not seem to be the right time to broach a sensitive subject.

She contemplated leaving to come back later, when he asked quietly, “What is it, Zara?”

She was startled that he had noticed her even though she had remained quiet at the far end of the studio. Armaan finished the part he was working on and washed the paint off his hands in another basin. Wiping his fingers on a towel, he came to sit beside her with an arm around her and asked tenderly, “Still thinking about your father?”

She hesitated not knowing what to say. “Your mother
mentioned that you married me because of your father’s will. Is it true?”

Armaan was irritated. Finding Zara’s questioning look even more irksome, he said “Yes, the will was one of the reasons my mother cited but not the vital one. It wasn’t even in my thoughts when I proposed. Mom was the reason I married you and you knew that before the wedding.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You would not have married me if it was not for the pot of gold! Did you claim your inheritance?”

“Not yet! But Mom has been insisting! This is ridiculous! I never needed my father’s money to prove my worth! And it’s not as if I had professed undying love to you, that you should feel so bad about it!”

Her heart felt like lead when she heard that. Of course, there was no love here. She gave a harsh laugh that sounded more like a cry of pain, “You are right! How silly of me! I just gave you more credit than you deserved. I did respect your good intentions towards your mother.”

“Zara …”

“There is something else too …” Maybe she should just go away without telling him about the baby. That would be unfair to him, she thought.

“I am pregnant.” In the stunned silence, she could only breathe unwilling to let go of her calm. Armaan only stared at her his eyes growing incredulous when she said the words. What had she expected? That he would proclaim his joy from the rooftops? She hesitated and then continued, “That night after the party … We got carried away.”

Armaan stood up abruptly, pacing the floor. Zara was pregnant with his child! It shook the edifice of his existence. How quickly life had turned upside down. A baby would mean a permanent bond between him and Zara. There will be no divorce! It was exhilarating! No, it was suffocating! On the one hand, he felt instinctively happy. On the other hand, it felt like someone had ripped apart his armour and left him open to pain. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Everything is happening too fast! What do we do now?”

The question was addressed more to himself than to her, but he heard her firm answer. “I am keeping the baby whether you like it or not.”

How could she even presume that he would ask to terminate the pregnancy? “Obviously, we are going to keep the baby,” he said icily, anger getting the better of him. There were too many emotions clamouring for attention here. “Now that this complication has arisen there is no way that we can get a divorce.” It was the perfect reason to tell her that he did not want her to leave. However, he was unprepared for the way she reacted.

Zara stood up proudly and said in a stilted voice, “You need not alter your plans just because I am having a baby!” How dare he call her baby a ‘complication’! It hurt dreadfully! She should have known. Why had she expected him to be happy! She had wanted him to declare undying love for her! How could she have been so idiotic to believe that he would love her and accept the baby because of that love? In his world, love did not exist. She searched
his angry face for any traces of that elusive emotion with dwindling hope.

“Are you telling me that you want a divorce from me?” Armaan was battling with anger. With that, he became aware of another thought. Had he not seen pure love in her eyes so many times? Why was he not able to tell her that he loved her the same way? The thought terrified him! Had he been mistaken?

“Let’s stick to the schedule, shall we?” she said, in a brisk business-like fashion. With a steely look that he hadn’t seen for a long time, her body taut with tension she continued, “I have a busy week ahead and I may have to go out of town for some time. I was thinking that we should think things over while I stay at my old flat for the next few weeks. I’ll go up and pack right now!” The bright brittle smile she gave him was pure hard work and it managed to cut him to pieces when he saw a shimmer of wetness in those grey eyes.

“Damn you Zara! Don’t say that you are going to live alone in this condition? I will not allow that!” he thundered. In his chaotic state of mind, another grim thought staggered him. Zara saw it in his face, the dreadful suspicion that she might follow her mother’s footsteps.

Zara stared at him, hope draining away. She had wished only for a few words of love. She stood straighter, her spine aching with the effort. “You don’t have to worry about how I will manage. Besides, I am tougher than my mother was. I won’t be doing anything foolish that would hurt me and the baby. I have always wanted children and I am keeping
this one. I will survive and make a new beginning with or without you.” She said the last words in a huskier tone that trembled with hurt. “Goodbye, Armaan!”

It struck him such a blow that Armaan reeled from the impact. She was leaving. And he was standing there like a fool allowing her to go. Armaan could not move an inch when he felt his heart crack. The studio door closed behind her. He slumped on the stool, a big man, defeated by his own inner enemy.

After all these days of meticulous planning and self-deception, he had lost her. It was like jumping headlong into dark icy cold water and floundering about in sheer terror. And the worst thing was that he had been too cowardly to accept that he had fallen in love with her irrevocably. He could have easily stopped her with one word and all he had done was drive her further away. He had done exactly what his father had done. In betraying her trust, inadvertently, he had become what he feared most.
He had become his own father.

A month passed without a word from Zara. Armaan called her several times but she refused to pick his calls and he almost spent a day at her doorstep hoping to meet her. He called her friend Sumana but she only gave him vague answers. A neighbour informed him that Zara was out of town for a week.

Armaan found out later that his mother had Zara’s new number which she firmly refused to give him. Vini had been so upset about Zara leaving home that she had accused Armaan of being a stubborn mule who didn’t deserve a loving wife. She added that it would be better if Armaan carried a sack of stones on his back for the rest of his life as all mules do. Fortunately Zara had not informed Vini about her pregnancy. For many days Vini avoided her son, refusing to acknowledge his presence. Armaan had gone crazy by then, worried that something would happen to Zara while he and his mother slugged it out. After a long
battle of wits he finally wrestled it out of her with promises of bringing Zara back home.

The next week, Zara opened the door to find Armaan waiting impatiently with his hands on his hips. Without a word, he strode in and stared at her long enough to burn a hole through her. She looked drained, her face pale, wearing one of those old shirts that he had ordered her to discard months ago. Her hair was loosely braided as usual. Her jeans clung to her shapely legs and memories crashed through his thin defenses.

To his famished eyes she was beautiful. He didn’t care what she wore or what she looked like. He ached to gather her close before he lost his mind. Unerringly his eyes were drawn to her stomach. Wanting to reach out and touch her to feel his baby growing within her. He stepped forward and then stopped.

“Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” His voice was harsh.

There was no polite greeting. Zara was too tired to squabble with him. “My phone was lost and I had to change my number, I did call mom several times.” She had not wanted to hear his voice. That would most likely have set her back in her path to redemption. She had tried hard to forget. However, the life growing within her had made that impossible. Every night she cried herself to sleep in her lonely bed. She had not wanted to answer his calls because she was afraid that he might want to discuss the divorce proceedings. She simply drank in the sight of him. He looked leaner and his eyes gleamed with a feverish light.

“How are you? Mom told me that your exhibition was a success.” She gripped the back of the chair for support.

Armaan nodded, but did not want to discuss his work. It was not easy to start where they had left off without some explanation and he did not know how to begin.

“Zara …” He began pacing the floor but she interrupted him.

“I know that you want your freedom. I am ready to sign the papers any time.” Her eyes were deep grey with anguish.

Armaan took a step toward her but Zara backed away afraid that she might cry out in pain making a fool of herself. She wanted the parting to be dignified and not a dirty scramble devoid of self-respect.

There was no way Armaan could stop himself from exploding, “I didn’t come here for the divorce! I missed you! I just wanted to see you. When you didn’t answer the phone I thought I might have been mistaken about the love you felt for me, the love that I thought I saw in your eyes everyday you were with me. Tell me that I was wrong and I will go away. But you can be sure that there will be no divorce! I won’t let you go!”

“Why?” Zara was still as a stone, hanging on every word he said, hope growing afresh.

“Because since you left, nothing has been the same! I can’t get over this gnawing emptiness! You are a part of me!” He stopped and then with a haggard look, he said hoarsely, “I love you Zara! Will you come back home? Don’t make me beg!”

She was already hurtling towards him with a cry, her arms thrown around him, when he caught her tight and lifted her off the floor, crushing her to death. With a groan of pure pleasure, he kissed her hungrily, while tears slipped down her face. Zara wanted to hear more but he did not allow her to think anything for a while, running his hands feverishly all over her to make up for the lost time. He laughed when she kissed him deliriously, wrapping her arms about his waist to bury her damp face into him.

“What took you so long?” she asked, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.

“I knew that I loved you that night after the party when I saw you with Shekhar, the night the baby was conceived. I could have gone up in flames with jealousy. It was sheer cowardice that I didn’t want to admit even to myself. I thought I could get away by pretending that it was only desire. I was concocting elaborate plans to convince you into staying back without having to make a commitment about how I really felt. It was such a farce! I was such a moron!” He kissed her again, his eyes faintly moist.

Zara reached up to kiss his chin, loving the feel of his prickly stubble and the rich masculine scent of his skin dabbed in faint cologne. “The day I left, I thought you might confess about how you felt. No husband would do all those things you did, without feeling something at a deeper level. After the initial fireworks, I felt so drawn to you that it was increasingly becoming difficult to hide the way I felt about you. I wanted to give you all, Armaan. But every time I wanted to reach out, you seemed to slip away and shut me out.”

Armaan heaved a deep sigh and framed her face in his palms. “I was such a mess, Zara! I thought I knew how to deal with the complexities of a relationship. When Dad left, it left me devastated. Aparna had her own problems but she managed to air it once in a while to get a better perspective, while I bottled it all up. I lost faith in love. I had sworn that I would never give anyone enough power over me to make my life as miserable as Mom’s. Dad became the symbol of betrayal for me. I refused to look at it from his point of view. You were right, I refused to acknowledge that he did love his children, whatever the relationship between him and Mom.” He stopped to ponder over the past. “I was using him as a shield, an excuse to protect myself from getting hurt.”

He stopped again to brush her hair away from her face and kissed her tenderly. “Most of all, I was afraid that I might become like my father! I was terrified that I might not be able to sustain a stable relationship with a woman.” His face contorted with pain and she hugged him fiercely giving him time to calm down.

“Then you came along and broke down every barrier I had carefully erected. I fell hard even before I knew it. You were so beautiful in every way. Strong, capable and immensely courageous. The initial antagonism and misunderstanding disappeared when I saw the real you. And I became more afraid, as each day brought fresh joy to me, just to be with you. I saw the love in your eyes every day, and craved, and dreaded to hear you declare it. I wanted to love you, protect you, take care of you, and then
I wanted to run away because my fears were hounding me.”

“The baby was supposed to be good news!” Zara complained.

“It most certainly was! I was thrilled that now I had a reason to hold on to you. But I panicked that I would get more entangled in this relationship and you might have enough power over me to crush me. I realized that I had become my father after all. I had finally betrayed the trust of the one woman who could love me. Like a fool I stood there allowing you to walk out.”

“You are not your father, Armaan!” said Zara softly. “You are strong! You have the strength to turn situations around when there’s no hope. You changed me. I thought I was unworthy of anyone’s love. You made me the woman I am today! The man I lived with for the past few months was more trustworthy than everyone I know. I trust you completely!”

He held her for long moments, burying his face in her throat raising his head every now and then to kiss her deeply.

“I love you so much!” Zara said, kissing him back fervently.

He caressed her rounded belly and sighed, “Promise me that even if I behave like an idiot at times, you wouldn’t leave me. Let’s make it a rock solid relationship that doesn’t get shaken by mere quakes of insecurities, boredom, daily wear and tear and jolts of domesticity. I would rather we fought every day, than live without each other or without deep, abiding faith! Will you trust me, Zara?”

“I do!”

“I love you! Let’s go home!” He kissed her soundly again and grinned. “No I think we should stay here! Mom’s nearly killed me with her moral lecture! She’s driven me nuts accusing me of all kinds of sins! Hell! Even Aparna has been acting cold, telling me that I don’t deserve someone like you. She believes firmly that I would die a grumpy, lonely old man.”

“You are a grumpy man! But lonely? Not if I have a say in the matter!” said Zara impishly.

Armaan grinned widely as she bubbled with laughter, before swinging her up in his arms on his way to the bedroom. Zara wrapped her arms around him in delirious joy. The feeling of homecoming was incomparable.