"Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked. It was the first things he said after many hours he spent just sobbing, crying and just lying silently with his head on her lap. She had composed herself earlier and now was gently and carefully inspecting his scratches and bruises. She however did not answer. Only when he caught her bandaged wrist she stopped pretending being too busy. "Why all this?" he asked again. "What happened?"
She sat down on the floor, resting her head on his knees. He only now noticed she had released her hair from the braid so now it was tumbling down her back to the waist. She hugged his legs. Her voice sounded muffled. "I thought you left. Forever."
He said nothing. He couldn't. An irritated question of how could you never managed to pass his lips. A part of him wanted to be mad at her, punish her for the agony he had went through only because of her. But she was there now, her body pressed against his legs as she held onto him as a drowning person in a sea storm. He thrusted his fingers into her hair and turned her face upwards. She was not crying, in fact a faint shadow of a smile lay upon her lips, but deep in her eyes there was an overwhelming sadness. There was fear and pain in those eyes. He realized that the difference he had immediately noticed in her was not because of simple clothes or lack of jewellery. Something was broken in his Chandramukhi.
"What happened?" he pressed the matte more urgently. She put her head back on his knee.
"I don't remember much from my illness. Most of the time I just kept seeing terrible things and nightmares. When I finally woke up, you were gone. No word. No message, nothing. And Gauri didn't want to tell me anything so I assumed she did not want to hurt me. And days were just passing by."
He just felt a sudden hatred towards Gauri. But there would be time to shout at her later. He let Chandramukhi go on.
"When Appa came and told me I was supposed to entertain a new customer in a few days, that he already bought me for weeks, even months, what else could I have thought? You were gone, made no claims, left no word of comfort. And I just thought that...." She fell silent.
"That?"
"That you did no longer need a toy that is broken."
A painful hit in the heart. Toy! Did she really think she was just a distraction to him? After all this time? Did he not show enough of love to her? What else would she want him to do? He spent days agonizing over her disappearance just to learn she did not trust him? He was not the one shouting someone else's name during stormy nights! That jealous thought, buried for such a long time in his subconscious mind, now returned fully, powered by a rising anger. So hers is the only love not to be doubted? He stood up and wanted to walk away, but she refused to let go of his leg, passionately clinging to it.
"Forgive me!" she said. No tears, no pleading. Just a simple request in that voice which was so different from the one he knew. And he was swayed toward the love more for that moment, feeling there had to be more he should know about. He did not sit down though, remained standing with her at his feet.
"Why did Chuni Babu take you here?" he asked, more harshly than he had intended. And for a fleeting second the jealous beast in his chest offered him a shattering conclusion. Chuni Babu and her.... She thought he was never coming back.... and Chuni Babu always liked her.... No. NO. NO.
"The new costumer turned out to be Kali Babu."
The image of Chuni Babu's hand traveling the lines of her body immediately. What?!
"He wanted me to dance. I refused to go out of my chambers. And he decided to come in. He said he didn't need the prelude anyway to.... to act like a man. Poor thakur did not expect a tawaif who has just survived a long illness to be anything but helpless. Had I known you were coming back, he actually might have raped me. I wouldn't be able to fight him in my condition. But having no hope whatsoever, I no longer cared for anything. I just knew I didn't want him to touch me."
She fell silent again. Slowly he sat down in front of her, staring at her with widened eyes, while her face had suddenly a proud, excited and yet distant expression, as she was seeing again the memory in her head. "Chandramukhi? What have you done?" But he already knew. His eyes fell on her bandaged wrist.
"I didn't feel any pain. The dagger just cut through the flesh. Mine and his - when he tried to take it from my hand. He can present the scar on his chest as a battle wound if he wants to, but he will always know a whore gave it to him."
"He did this to you?" Devdas said gently, bringing her attention back to the present and touched the bruise on her face.
"This.... and some more. He's taken too much humiliation from me in the past to let me go so easily. He left then. Gauri saved me, even thought I didn't want her to. And then she run for Chuni Babu, because she knew that bastard would come again, and it may be worse. That's why Chuni Babu took me here."
Devdas didn't know what to say to her. Her face relaxed again, gaining that unfamiliar tired expression. He didn't even know how he should feel. Jealous still? Angry? Should he pity her? None of those emotions seemed right.
He took her wrist into his hands and brushed his fingers over it gently, shocked and terrified of what the bandage meant. Chandramukhi tried to kill herself. Just because she couldn't stand anyone else but him touching her anymore. He was right where he started. All easy, straightforward emotions were denied to him. Pain mixed with gratefulness, relief were probably destined to be present in his heart every day from now on.
"You must be hungry," she said as if nothing had happened. "I'll go arrange something for you."
She released her hand from his, stood up and made few steps towards the door, her hair falling down her back, all the way down to her waist.... her hair....
"Wait," he commanded suddenly. She did, question in her eyes as he closed the distance between them. "Turn around."
She looked disturbed now. "Why? What is the matter." She sounded wary. And he was already certain of what he'd find, when he made her face the opposite direction and he slowly brushed away the long strands of her to the side of her neck.
Her back was a pitiful map of long, narrow bruises, some already turning blue. At few places the punishing tool, which probably had been a whip or something similar, cut through the sensitive skin, causing thin but deep wounds, that would surely leave scars once healed. They were meeting and parting, marking the mad dance of the whip that had fed on her pain.
"What has he done to you?" he breathed out.
"Nothing," she said adamantly. "Nothing that would make up for what I did to him. This will heal eventually. I will forget them. But he will never forget me."
He tried to touch one of the bruises, but she slipped away from him.
"I'll bring you something to eat," she repeated and in a moment he was all alone.
