Devakshi One-shots/Drabbles/Short stories

The Lost Years (Part 3)

The continuation of my story of the seven years Dev-Sona were separated from each other. I am trying to incorporate whatever little details of the seven years were provided to us in the show by the writers.

***************************************************************************************

Sonakshi clicked on 'Compose' on her email and stared at the screen, fingers poised on the keyboard. There was much to say, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She needed to start somewhere. She had to find a way to be connected to Dev. Her fingers worked to write the first words.

'Dear Dev,'

She had been determined to never think of him again, never remember him. There was so much anger, so much bitterness, so much resentment, that they couldn't hold on to each other, that they couldn't protect their relationship. He had asked her to leave. He had signed those papers. On top of everything, there was so much do here: moving into their new place, settling in her new job, making sure Baba takes his medicines. Her family had conveyed to her that they will support her, whatever decision she takes. She knew they would.

However, she didn't have the one person's support she wanted at this time. How could she not think about him? Right now, as she stared at the screen, with the two words she had just typed, she realized that she missed him. Missed him so much. More so since those two lines on that pregnancy test stick. She wanted to contact him, but there was a fear, a fear that he would repeat those words again. 'Go away Sonakshi.' She felt alone, navigating unknown waters all on her own, not knowing if she would make it, and if she didn't, whether he would ever find out. She touched her belly lightly, then started typing as she poured her heart out to him.

I found out today that I am pregnant. I am so happy, but along with this happiness, there is also a terrible loneliness. I am not able to share this news with you, Dev...this is your right too. Wasn't this what we always wanted? I kept looking at you, I kept telling you I am leaving, and you let me go? How could you do that to me? Isn't it strange, Dev? What you thought of as my weakness, the reason you kept lying was probably also the reason we got separated. And now that reason doesn't exist anymore. But Dev, we are both incomplete today, because we aren't together. Dev, you threw me out of your life, but still, I want to let you know that I am going to be a mother soon. I am going to be the mother of OUR baby. I am feeling so weird, that you know nothing about this tiny presence. Whom will I talk to? Whom will I discuss what to name our baby? Who will fight with me over whether we are going to have a boy or a girl? Dev, I know I should be angry with you, but right now, at this moment, all I know is that I miss you.

She shut the laptop, lest she dissolve into tears again. She couldn't do that. Her parents were outside in the living room and she had to be careful not to alarm them in any way. They were so happy about the pregnancy, but she could also see the worry in their eyes. Not surprising. There was too much going on in their lives right now. So, she better keep her sorrow to herself. She did wish this news had come during easier, happier times. But then again, in the darkest period, wasn't this a glimmer of light? Yes, maybe that is what this baby is: a ray of hope in her life, when everything else has fallen apart. She smiled, stroking her belly. I can't wait to meet you, little one. Come soon.

The door opened and she snapped out of her thoughts. Jatin walked in with a tray of food, enough to feed a caravan.

"What is this?" She stared at the tray in disgust.

"Well, you need to eat and now you are going to be eating for two." He looked proud, that he knew he was doing the right thing.

"First of all, that is a myth, that pregnant women need to eat for two. Secondly, that is enough to feed a whole clan. And finally, just looking at all that food is making me want to throw up." She ran to the bathroom and retched.