Shape of the Sun

In the hour of need

Three days later.

It was an eerily quiet morning, the fuss of the ones past missing. Usually, Manmeet would have come in with his breakfast, after which he would extend the mild ache in his head to the rest of his body, so that she had no choice but to feed him, and he could grab her hand on and off, just enough so he could see her face blush, body fake resistance when he set the bowl down and drew her into his arms.

But today was different. She was absent and it agitated him in a way that bordered on anxiety. Rajkumar wasn't having those fits that arose from being away from one's lover, no. He was familiar with those, the ones that had come when he had woken up in the hospital with everyone but Manmeet in his ward. This was different. Fundamentally different. This felt like something close to the delicate balance of his life at present, shifting.

So, he stood up, defying the doctor's orders, and quietly made his way to the door, careful not to make too much noise. Behind the calm front was a simmering anxiety. And behind the door was a terrifying sight. The scene that Rajkumar found in the living room, unlike the tranquility of his room, scared the shit out of him.

Anisha was passionately talking to Manmeet, as if giving a pitch. The other woman quietly listened, arms folded, eyes red from crying, her Minnie Mouse apron still on, a testament that she had been busy with his breakfast at a time before the unexpected guest arrived. He took a step forward, and in that moment, she looked up from the tabletop to him, their eyes meeting. And Rajkumar caught her stoic expression wavering, leaving a path for tears that fell from eyes full of pain, a hand over mouth as if to stifle her sobs.

He fell to his knees, exactly as his heart did, tears blurring his vision as he shook his head over and over, as hard as he could. It was not meant to be like this. It was not meant to end like this. What was this, this mix of pain and regret coursing through his body, like fire threatening to set aflame? Ignoring the other woman in the room and the pounding in his head, Rajkumar attempted crawling to where she sat.

He wanted to kneel before her and claim penitence, to weep and tell her that he never meant to hurt her, that this wasn't the man he wanted to show her. He was better than this.

"M-manmeet...please...please...."

Rajkumar had barely gotten there, close enough to touch the arm of her chair, when he felt strong arms yank him from behind and press him to the ground, his vision of the room suddenly shifting, terrifying him. People that looked like reporters swarmed from all corners of the room where he hadn't noticed before, clicking away photos of his disheveled state. Needless to say, Rajkumar was scared, and he thought he saw his father's face amongst them, but then he wasn't sure, because they brought out their flash cameras. The lights caused his heart to accelerate at humanly impossible levels, the throbbing in his head to increase, despair to press down on him even as he remembered that night he wanted to forget.

Now, Rajkumar was weeping, wanting to get away from this hell on earth. His eyes searched for his lover, finally finding her in the chaos. But could someone explain why she was looking at him like that?

"M-manmeet, manmeet..."

Her cold expression sent him into a panic, tipping him over. It was like the last string of reason in his head broke, and his heart was descending into an ice cave.

Manmeet was looking at him like he was dirt on the side of the road, the love that she always had in her eyes when looking at him nowhere to be found. Rajkumar couldn't see her love. He couldn't feel her love, and he couldn't bear it, that it was all over. That her love for him had died so quickly, leaving him alone amidst wolves. She hadn't held his hand but had led him to them, watched as they devoured him. The pure anguish he felt only found an outlet in more tears, and in the anguish he felt anger.

Was this your love?! Was this it?!

"Manmeet!"

"Rajkumar wake up! Rajkumar!"

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"Manmeet!"

She held her lover tight, willing him to give him the comfort that he sought in her arms. Every tremor of his body, every tear that he kept shedding in torrents that had no end, caused her heart to tremble, twist in pain at his. There was a rising from inside her, perhaps down to the inside of her belly where her child was, maybe sensing that its father wasn't at peace.

What was it that he had seen?

Manmeet had woken up to a loud crash coming from Rajkumar's room and rushed over, only to find him on the bed, tears all over his face, hand cut and bloodied with glass splinters sticking in, the remnants on the bedside table and across the floor. Still, he wasn't conscious of all that blood dripping from his hand or even pain from the embedded splinters. Instead, Rajkumar kept calling her name, earnestly attempting to reach for her with his solitary good hand, and it broke Manmeet's heart, even as she rushed to him.

Rajkumar had held her with that hand, whimpering, begging her not to leave him, his voice so fragile, so fraught with sorrow.

"M-manmeet...stay. Please don't leave. I beg of you..."

 And Manmeet obliged him even though her neck ached, and her back hurt. If she left him in his hour of need, could she still say that she loved him?

She was very clear on her stance towards Rajkumar. He was her baby's father and the man that she was in love with, despite all his flaws. He was her springs eternal, light, pure joy all that she felt when she was around him.

Rajkumar Reddy was her one standard, her bias, her guilt and shame and pity and love overflowing personified. Manmeet was sure that she could carry him all the way, could let him lean on her and into her arms when he needed it.

And so she did until he fell asleep, the night shrouding all about them.