The Wrong Woman

75. Mouna

A/N: AAAAANNNND this is it folks!

***

Waking up, my body ached and creaked. I groaned, trying to stretch my arms, my brain disoriented about where I was and what I was doing.

"—It's probably everything that happened. It took a toll on both of us."

"She's awake."

Muffled voices became clearer and I rubbed my eyes to clarify the blurry images. My feet had been elevated, placed on a white pillow at the foot of the couch I was laying on. Then when seeing Dhruv kneeled in front of me everything hit me like the metro trains I had only ever seen pass by overhead.

He was so close to me that I could smell the faint scent of pine. His eyes peered into mine, a frown of worry drawn on his face. He sat me up slowly and only then did I pull away. Not because I didn't want to be anywhere near him but because I really did and I didn't trust myself to be so close.

He moved away from me a second later. The air was quiet, the tension choking me. I had fainted—how embarrassing—but there were still unanswered questions.

"I should probably take her back home," I heard him say to Rani.

"Are you sure you don't want to—"

"It isn't the right time." Dhruv turned to look at me, and did a double take when he found me staring right back at him.

The blood in my veins were pumping full force, the tips of my ear reddening at the thought of what he had said. I was so shocked, so...taken aback that I hadn't known how to respond. I didn't want to cry, but my body and soul was so shaken by everything that it had been forced to endure that it was the way it reacted.

In truth, as much as I loved Dhruv, was I ready for this? Did he truly love me? There were so many questions that I had to battle in my mind. I for one had seen first-hand how much he had loved Rani.

Would there be that same love toward me? Was I being silly? Probably. I had never experienced these specific feelings before.

Dhruv reached out his hand for me to take. I let his fingers curl around mine as he helped me get up. I waved to Rani, who pulled me into a deep hug, one that I returned. I didn't want to dwell on it but it somehow felt like a goodbye.

We would see each other soon, but not as frequently as before. It was bittersweet. We had both gotten what we wanted, but both had not, either.

The car ride home was quiet. He didn't put the radio on. He looked straight ahead. Was he mad? "Do you feel lightheaded?"

"Huh?"

"Do you feel dizzy or lightheaded?" he repeated. There was no trace of anger in his voice from my lack of an answer. Only concern. He was such a kind man. To answer his question, however, I did feel a little woozy. Whenever I blinked, I saw white and green stars and my body felt unsteady, despite being in a car.

"A little bit," I answered. He immediately stopped by a small place with a blue sign called 'Juice Junction'. "I don't want anything to drink, Dhruv. I'm fine."

"You're dehydrated. Getting some sort of liquid in you will help."

I didn't argue and let him leave. He was indifferent to all the heads that turned to see him jog over with only wet jeans on. A few minutes later he was back, a tall plastic cup of yellow liquid in one hand. Is that—?

"Mango juice," he answered as if reading my thoughts. "Your favourite."

He remembered, I thought, taking it with a shaky hand. I took a sip, letting the tartness of the mango juice and the cold cool me down. I was starting to feel a little better. "Thank you," I said as we went back onto the road. "I'll pay you back, I promise."