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7. Pragya

Pragya huffed petulantly. "There - there you go again! How am I supposed to take you seriously if you make jokes at a time like this?"

Abhi raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to one side, making his best joker face. "You know me naa? I'm constitutionally unable to to stay serious for more than two minutes at a time."

Pragya shook her head, agitated by him purposely playing the fool when she knew he was anything but. "That's not true. You were serious a lot of the time that corporator had us."

His hand tightened on her waist. "Well, mortal peril is an exceptional circumstance."

A beat of silence passed as they looked into each other's eyes, bonded by the reminder of what they had survived together.

Then Abhi tilted his head again and surveyed her skeptically. "You didn't ask me why I can't love you."

Pragya lifted her hand to stroke along his jaw, wanting him to feel her reassurance as she spoke it. "You never said that."

A stubborn look started to stiffen Abhi's features. "I did. I said -"

Pragya smiled at his obstinacy. "You said you don't know if you can love me. But I know you can."

He looked surprised, his eyes widening at her words. "You do?"

Pragya dropped her hand to his shoulder and let her fingers drum lightly there. "Well, I don't know if you can love me. But I know you can love. You're the most loving person I know."

Abhi shook his head firmly. His voice was fierce as he said, "You don't understand. I don't - I don't believe in love. I believe in family, and responsibility, and doing unto others as they do to me. But I don't - I can't - the way you gave me your heart that day, Fuggi, I don't think I can do that. I can't say -"

Pragya flattened her palm on his shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. "You don't have to. It doesn't matter if you never say the words. That's not the point -"

Abhi's face was drawn into a dark frown. "That's what you think now. What if three years from now I still can't say I love you back? What if we give Daadi the good news she's hounding us for and even that doesn't make a difference? What if -"

She put a finger to his lips and slowly shook her head. "We don't live in what ifs."

Abhi just looked at her, helpless in his conviction that he couldn't be what she needed. "I just - I don't know if I can make you happy, Fuggi. I don't have anything to give you. I don't know if I can ever love you the way you say you love me. But...I care about you. I need you. I want you. And I want to keep you with me even if I can't give you my heart like you gave me yours. Isn't that selfish? I'm just that selfish." His arm around her nudged her closer to him, so that there was hardly any space left between their faces.

Pragya smiled shyly and looked down at where he'd tangled their hands together in her lap. She said coyly, "You're insulting my husband. I don't like it when anyone does that, not even you."

Abhi was apparently not in the mood to be amused. "It's a statement of fact. Don't make me into some perfect demigod -"

At this, Pragya burst into a laugh. Feeling finally free to make her claim, she looped her arms around his neck and met his gaze. "You, and perfect? No, I know you're not. But...perfect is overrated. I love you, even the selfish, stupid, irritating -"

Abhi started to smirk. His hand slid around to the small of her back and he jerked her slightly forward. "Excuse me? I believe someone is insulting your husband -"

A sweet adrenaline was energizing Pragya's veins but she pushed on with her sentence. " - Even all those sides of you. Because the bad comes with the good, and I couldn't really love you if I couldn't see your weaknesses."

Abhi's brow wrinkled, and his tentative smile faded again. "But I don't understand. If you know my weaknesses, how can you still love me? You've seen the worst of me -"

"And the best of you." Pragya poked his chest playfully. "I told you, the bad comes with the good."

She could feel the tension in Abhi's body, doubt and self-blame still holding him captive. "But does that make up for it? Just because I do good things sometimes, it doesn't mean I'm a good person -"

Pragya took hold of his face in both hands, wanting to pull him out of his angst. "And what, doing bad things sometimes makes you a bad person?"

"Well -"

"Where did you get this idea that everyone is either a sinner or a saint? We're all just human. Sometimes we make wrong choices. But that doesn't make us - unworthy of love."

Abhi leaned forward to set his forehead to hers. "Doesn't it?" She could feel his breath against her lips, close enough to kiss.

But the moment wasn't right yet. "No, buddhu ram!" she teased in soft voice. Then she pulled back and asked him seriously, "Tell me one thing, what does love mean?"

Abhi gave her an exasperated look. "I told you Fuggi, I don't believe in it. I don't think it's real -"

Pragya gripped the neckline of his shirt and made sure she had his attention. "It's what I told you at the lake." She met his eyes and spoke from the depths of her heart, willing him to hear the truth that would bind them together if only he let it. "It's when another person's sorrow hurts you, and their joy makes you happy. It's when you'd put up with a thousand wounds to spare someone else the pain."

The memory of him taking a bullet for her played in her mind, followed by flashes of those desperate moments when she'd begged the universe to make him better and take her in his place.

Then she thought of all the times she had surprised herself with how much his opinion mattered to her, and how much it had hurt when he'd seemed to read her wrong. She continued, " It's when you don't care if the whole world misunderstands you, as long as that one person is on your side. It's when their smile brightens your day, and their touch warms your heart, and no matter what stupid, hurtful thing they do, you can't imagine life without them."

Their eyes locked then, and the moment of connection felt like it should last forever. She could see that she'd finally got through to him, and she felt she could almost taste her triumph.

"That's what it means?" Abhi asked in a soft voice, seeking confirmation rather than expressing doubt.

"What else would it mean?"

Abhi began idly stroking his hand down her arm. "I don't know. I always thought it was some nonsense about finding the perfect person who can make you happy all the time."

Pragya let her own hand drift down his chest and along his side. "No one can do that. And anyway, it's impossible to be happy all the time."

Abhi cupped the back of her head, tilting her back. "So do you think you could be happy with me? Enough of the time?"

Pragya smiled, feeling her muscles loosen as the last of her tension faded. "Yes."

Abhi's grin was brighter than the sun. "Then...I guess it's a good thing you're married to me."

At that, Pragya hugged him tight, pressing her face to his neck as elation overcame her. Abhi hugged her back, his arms locking around her as though he meant to never let her go.