Destiny's Gamble

Old Flames

Manik's POV

"Leaving me again?" My favourite person's voice fails to make me so much as flinch. Why? Because I know this is a figment of my imagination. I just saw Angel in Sushant's arms, back at the restaurant; dancing, as if that is where she belongs. So how the hell can I be hearing her voice from behind me now? My heart has always been a fool where Angel's concerned, and now my mind has followed suit. 

"Manik, trying to keep up with your long-legged pace in these heels isn't easy." I shut my eyes, tilting my head to the side ever so slightly. Great, hallucinations were all that I needed on my already overfilled plate. Without faltering, I continue to head in no particular direction, with no destination in mind. After all, my home is back in that restaurant, providing shelter to another. I guess my luck did side with me for once when, through some miracle, it allowed Angel to fall in love with me. Alas, I was the biggest fool on this planet to think that destiny would always favour me. Miracles don't occur time and again. 

"Could you please just stop?" Angel's voice calls from behind me; a hint of desperation evident in it. "Why have you turned a deaf ear towards me?" I bunch my fist up at my side. Surely, I have begun to lose my mind. Hearing Angel's voice this vividly is certainly not a healthy sign. 

"Manik!" She growls, an iron tight grip clasping itself onto my shoulder. 

"What?" I yell, turning around, eyes wide with rage. A gasp escapes my lips, as I stare right into the eyes of a highly pissed off Angel. My wife is standing in front of me, eyebrows furrowed. Disbelievingly, I scan her petite figure from the ground up. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips as my gaze lands on her balled up, tiny fists. I watch Angel's chest heavily beat up and down, her lips moulding themselves into a pout. 

"I lost my memory, fine, but did you end up losing your hearing?" Angel asks indignantly. I can swear that she's radiating waves of heat because of her rage in this given moment. In my state of shock, I find myself being unable to comprehend her words.

"You're really here?" I ask cautiously, narrowing my eyes at her. "In the flesh? You're here?" Lord, I can't even put together a comprehensible sentence for crying out loud. 

"Did you hit your head somewhere as well?" Angel asks, reaching out to touch my forehead. I catch her hand in midair, staring at it as if it is my saving grace. On instinct, my thumb begins to stroke the back of Angel's hand. 

"You're really here." I whisper, as I watch goosebumps erupt along the surface of her skin. If we were surrounded by any other circumstances, I'd smirk with pride at how easily my wife reacts to my touch. "It's you." I can't seem to raise my voice beyond a whisper. Without wasting another second, or even contemplating how Angel will react to my actions, I pull her up against my chest. Just for a few seconds, I wish to experience the feeling of being utterly at home. If only I could capture this feeling, and experience it whenever I desired. Once upon a time, I could. Now, however, Angel belongs in another's arms, and I must let her go to where she finds her home. It isn't about me. It never has been. 

My eyes shut on their own volition, as Angel's arms slide along my back; her grip equally, if not more, firm against my body. I can feel the knots of tension unfolding inside me; all the worries of what tomorrow holds for me slipping away and vanishing into nothingness. I am at peace in this woman's arms. In a world where I am an ascribed warrior, she is my white flag. Angel is that hideaway of mine that no one else is aware of, and neither will they ever be allowed to share it. She is my secret weapon. Many a times, I have heard that love is a weakness. But for me, Angel is my strength. All my life I have been schooled regarding the macho attire that I must adorn. But with the woman in my arms, I am allowed to strip that all off, and be me. I should be her hero. Heck, it isn't like I haven't tried to be time and again. But Angel and I both know that she's my saving grace - my warrior queen. This woman is capable of carrying both our share of burdens, and I know she will do so without a single word of complaint. If only I possessed even an ounce of her strength, I could be half the warrior she is. 

My shoulders slump forward as I realise that I will now have to gather every bit of strength I can find. After all, the upcoming days of my life are to be spent without my lifeline. Allowing myself another moment of peace, I squeeze Angel gently, and then let go. She's not mine to hold. At once, I turn around, not wanting to explain the tears in my eyes. 

"Manik," Angel calls from behind me. Lord, she is not making it easy for me to walk away. I am unable to get my feet to budge. Even my body refuses to walk away from Angel, and accept this goodbye. "You're going to leave me. Again?"  

"Go back - " My voice cracks. Clearing my throat, I try again. "Go back to Sushant. He must be waiting for you in there." 

"Waiting for me..." Angel trails off. "Wait a minute. Sushant told me you saw him and I dancing. You didn't translate that to being a reconciliation dance, did you?" Angel's words further deepen the layers of my confusion. I turn around, my vision blurred because of the tears that are begging to slip down onto my cheeks. 

"Was it not supposed to be?" I question. Lord, why can't Angel and I for once in our lives share an anti-cryptic conversation? Angel scoffs in disbelief, as she shakes her head.

"It was a goodbye dance, Manik." She explains, taking a step closer to me. "Let me show you how I reconcile with old flames though." Without allowing me even the slightest of seconds to fathom what she's said, Angel raises herself up on her tiptoes, grabs my face and brings my lips crashing onto hers.