Interlude

Chapter 20

Rose awoke in the morning to an eerie silence and an empty bed. The curtains were drawn but the sun still fought its way through, flittering tiny spokes of light onto the bed. Next to her the sheets were rumpled and the pillow still smelled of Dev. There was a strange comfort in waking up in his bed but also a distinct coldness that he wasn't in it.

She made her way into the living room. Even her light footfalls felt more pronounced in the dim quietness. She wouldn't be surprised if Dev had actually stepped out of his apartment.

But he was there. Reclined on the couch and breathing gently. She walked gingerly, afraid to break the peace with one small misstep. He was staring out the massive window and continued to do so when she came to stand in front of him. For long moments, they simply remained, inactive and unthinking.

Finally, his words emerged from the tranquil silence. "Do you want to know how I feel?"

Once before, he had asked her that question. She had refused him then. She had turned her back to the truth. Today she remained silent.

He wasn't going to make this easier for her. "Do you want to tell me how you feel?"

"Yes." Her voice seemed to echo, as if someone else had uttered the word from a far distance.

"Sit." he whispered, still looking outside.

Her knees buckled and she lowered onto the armchair behind.

He didn't prod her. He waited, calm and unhurried.

"Dev...I..." she began but her throat pained with heaviness. "I don't how..." A shaky exhale escaped her. "How do I say it?"

He finally turned to look at her. His face was unreadable; he gave nothing away.

"I've never judged you, Ro and I won't start now. You can say whatever you want, however you want to." His body remained still, only his eyelids blinked. "It's just me."

She chuckled in a sad, humorless way. "Ironic isn't it? That I'm asking you to help me even here? It seems like I'm always the one asking for help."

"Do we need to keep an account on who seeks help and how often? And incidentally, if we were to keep a score then I've far outnumbered you."

"That's not true. I'm always the one taking from you, never able to give you anything."

"Rose." His voice was hard. "Our entire young lives, I have only taken from you. Purpose, inspiration, ambition...everything I took from you."

"No!" she cried, suddenly inflamed. "You haven't. As far back as I can remember, you looked after me. Everything I did, everywhere I went, you were right there behind me, beside me, in front of me, caring for me even when..." Her chest constricted painfully. "even when I asked you not to."

"So what?" he clenched his teeth. His eyes snapped to hers. "So what if I did?"

"How do I make you understand?" Her eyes darted around the room, searching for some source of reason, some piece of logic that could help her. She needed to say it, needed to explain it to me and maybe then it would be less painful.

She took a breath and let the flood of her thoughts flow by:

"Every time I think about high school I just want to cry. There's so much I'd set out to do. Everyone around me had thought the I'd achieve something big, something brilliant. Even you," Her stare pierced into his, "You used to admire me. You looked up to. Once. What did I do with it? With all that hope and expectation? I bombed it! I squashed every thread of potential around me. All for the sake of doing something big and extraordinary. The only thing I succeeded at was to make a muck out of the ordinary things. In my pursuit of these big dreams, in chasing something phenomenal, I didn't value what was in front of me. Whatever state I am in now, I deserve it! My ego, my pride is the reason I hurt you! And now," her eyes fell, staring at her lap, "Look at me now, Dev. There's nothing left to admire. You'll never be able to see me like you used to. And it hurts to think of it because," Her hands had gotten too heavy and she let them fall to her sides, "because I admire you. So very much. You're wonderful and so..." she bit her bottom lip. "I don't have the right words for it. Its just...I cannot go through life knowing you don't think of me that way and possibly never would."

She didn't want to continue. This was too painful to admit. But it needed to be said out loud.

"I feel so small. The things you've achieved, the person that you've become - I'm nothing in front of it. You could be with anyone, just about anyone. And I can't help but think, why would you want to settle with me." The words chocked in her throat "The truth is, your world is much bigger and better than mine. And there is no place for me in it."

A silence followed like a numbing calmness that emerges in the wake of turbulent storm. She wasn't looking at him or else she would've seen that he was visibly aghast. His chest wrung painfully. He felt helpless. Her words carried conviction and surety. She actually believed what she said. And that shocked him. He wanted to take her out of her misery. He just didn't know how.

It took him a while to gather his thoughts and form a coherent response.

"In the last eight years if your life had gone differently, if you had done well at school and got the perfect job, would you have regretted your decisions?" He had asked the question with calculated calmness but a surge of anger was boiling inside him. "Answer me." he demanded.

Her hands clasped together in her lap, eyes downcast.

"You won't answer, I know. So I'll do it for you. You carry regret because you feel your decisions alone led you to failure. They didn't. You haven't understood that sometimes, bad circumstances defeat even the strongest of people, despite their best efforts. Your circumstances don't define you. They're fleeting like the wind. When clouds overcast a sky, you don't doubt, even for a second, that the sky isn't beautiful. You simply wait for the clouds to clear. The sky is forever blue and always beautiful."

He wasn't expecting her to respond at all, anymore.

"You feel that your failures are your punishment for your mistakes. You hurt me, so now you must suffer - that's what your mind is telling you. Yes, I was hurt. But you were hurting inside too. I knew that and yet I still let go of you. We pushed and pulled and in the end gave up. That was the mistake - our mistake that we made together."

He was sitting up now, leaning forward, piercing into her soul with his solid brown eyes. Even the air seemed to have settled around them as if it needed to pause and listen to words that came out of this man. "Tell me something. Had our story been reversed, had I been the one in need of help and you, in a position to do so, would you have judged me?"

Every muscle, every cell in her body had became numb.

He wasn't finished. "Let me push it further. If ten years from now, I lose everything, my fortune, my wealth and all this so called success that has you feeling miserable - if I lose all of this, will you think less of me? Will you not care for me? Will you not lo..." The words broke in his throat. He looked away. "This belief - that is your mistake. You're wrong, Rose."

When she blinked, something hot and heavy squeezed out of her eyes. Then her cheeks felt wet. It was too tiring and difficult to maintain a sitting posture. Someone needed to open the windows. She was finding it hard to breath.

With the sleeve of one forearm, she wiped her tears. Her body straightened and moved toward the hallway. He slumped back into the couch and covered his eyes with one palm. When she emerged shortly after, changed and holding a handbag, he did not move. Their eyes met one last time. Her breath wavered, choking back a silent sob. Then she turned around and left.