The Wrong Woman

50. Dhruv

I hadn't expected her to stand up for me like that. Even if we were getting along incredibly well, that wasn't something I'd pictured to happen in a million years.

And yet here it had.

Her colleagues both stared at me after Rani'd stormed off. I patted the guy on the shoulder before following her toward the back, the antique doors already wide open for me. With my hands in my pockets, I headed down the stairs to see that she was sitting on a white bench near a greenhouse a few feet away. There were people walking around the garden and others through the small hedge mazes with bushes and trees all shaped into various animals.

It was quieter here than it was outside, and the breeze that hit me helped calm the knot in my chest. I sat down beside Rani and bumped her shoulder with mine. "Thanks for that," I said, cutting through the silence.

"You would have done the same for me."

We looked at each other for what seemed like a long moment in time that had frozen for only the two of us. I was the first to break eye contact. "House husbands need to be defended, too, right?"

"You are the wives now, so a little respect is deserved."

"A little? Who feeds you and looks after you when you're sick?" I teased.

"You sound like a grandpa talking to his grandchild."

"Well, if my partner acts like a child, is that really such a stretch?"

Her shoulders shook, the stiffness in her muscles now alleviated. From the way she had changed her posture from straight and rigid to leaning back against the wooden bench, she seemed a lot more relaxed. That was a good sign. I stuck out my foot for good measure and pointed toward the dent.

"You owe me new shoes, by the way."

"I do not!"

I dug out my phone and snapped a photo of the dent. "I've got proof of the damage you've done. So actually, yeah, you do owe me." I didn't process her response because my eyes landed on the notification that popped up a few minutes ago.

Dad.

"Crap," I muttered. I'd completely forgotten to respond to his question the other day about visiting them.

"What's wrong?" Rani asked, peering into my face and letting her long, straight locks slide past the slender curve of her shoulder. I found myself staring at her. We were married, but it was so much harder to show what the hell was going on with my thoughts and my emotions than when we had dated. Technically, it was like we were starting over again. Could I risk things by bringing this up now? "Dhruv."

The urgency in her tone made me sigh. "I got a text from my dad."

"About visiting?" she asked, eyes wide. "Did you end up asking them?"

"...Yeah. They're up to it, but," I stressed, cutting her off from saying anything, "I don't want you agreeing unless you're 100% sure."

"I'm 110% sure, Dhruv. We already had this conversation!"

"Okay, okay. Just making sure. I don't know if you remember anything that happened between them and I don't want it to be a cruel surprise."

"What do you mean? Was it...that bad?"

I leaned forward, letting my now clasped hands flop between my spread legs. "Not exactly. You and mom are incredibly stubborn and have never seen eye to eye on a lot of things, that's all."

"Like what?"

"My parents, mostly my mom, is very traditional. And by that, I mean old-fashioned. The kind of woman she had in mind for me was someone she'd hand-picked; someone traditional, willing to support my dream of becoming a chef and staying at home and looking after the kids if we decided to have any. That wasn't what I wanted and that wasn't who you were. And that freaked her out. My thoughts on marriage and never giving up on it stemmed from my parents love and from her tradition. I always thought I'd be able to share this new journey with all of you but the three of you have been at odds for so long I kind of just gave up on that idea."

"At odds as in—"

"Screaming matches, throwing things, you name it, you and mom have both done it." And I really didn't want to witness another one of those ever again.

"You said you had a dream of becoming a chef?"

This reminded him of that same question she'd asked a while ago. Things were different now than it had been then. "I worked at a five star restaurant with Anish. You were my number one supporter and that was how I had first met you. Going to that restaurant, doing that job and making recipes for you...it threw me over the edge. Everything associated with that job reminded me of you and it was painful. Which was why I quit."

Rani didn't say anything for a while, her voice quivering when she finally asked, "And now?"

I looked at her, scanning every curve of her petite nose and the dip in the cupids bow of her full, glossy lips. "Now I want to do it again." A fresh start, I added in my head. The yellow lamps that were placed outside for decoration were the only thing that allowed me to see Rani properly.

"I'm glad," she choked out. "I want you to be happy. With me. I want to fix things."

Shocked was an understatement. Never had I thought this was going to happen. She did want to try, memories or not. I was happy.

I was happier than I'd been in a long time.