Delicate - A Rikara Tale (Completed!)

Eleven - The bird and the wolf

A/N: I am back home. It feels wonderful and I spent a few days meeting family and getting much needed tlc. It took me a while to write this because I got sidetracked by another idea for a oneshot. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter. As always, vote and comment and let me know what you think! This is a little long and I hope it is worth the wait!

Om could not sleep.

Close eyes. Do not think. Let nature take its course.

It was simple, self-explanatory. Uncomplicated. At least in theory.

But it was easier played out in one's head than carried out in real life. Real life was complex, with unknown variables and equations that slipped in without warning. Real life was dynamic and offered resistance. Because real life included other people and people were unpredictable. But some were unchanging, unrelenting and insensitive. Like he had almost been.

He exhaled sharply, stealing a quick glance at the sleeping form next to him and feeling his chest tighten. The thoughts of what could have happened had he not bothered to find out what had happened to his wife had made him wake up with a start.

The pain and the rage that he had inherited from his mother and father did not have to be passed down or shared with his innocent wife. He had vowed to protect her as per the seven rounds around the sacred fire and he had to protect her from everything that could hurt her. Even himself. Gauri deserved all the happiness in the world, laughter and a husband who would keep her happy.

Omkara was broken, he knew he was less than perfect.

How could he keep her happy when he himself fought a daily battle with depression and self-loathing.

Moreover, the guilt made him feel breathless, the thought of why he had originally brought Gauri back with him haunted him. He knew what could have happened too well had his doubts not lead him to the truth. He did not have to imagine much. He knew himself all too well. His rage was like clockwork- the same safe path - distance, distaste and derogatory words. It was an anger he had inherited, the dark side of his soul he had spent a large part of his life denying before he had let it swallow him whole. The rage was his legacy, passed down from father to son. A father he denied, a father he despised. Omkara felt bile rise in his throat and got up from the bed. He could see it when he closed his eyes, the way that it could have turned out.

He had almost used Gauri like a weapon, a shield, an excuse. He had almost asserted that he thought of her as a materialistic, scheming witch. He knew he would have taken it upon himself to disown an innocent soul simply because he believed that she was a sinner. Selfish, cruel. The very reflection of Tej Singh Oberoi. He had almost become everything he detested. Almost.

But he was not. And he did not have to be.

The sound of a soft sigh made Om turn around to face a still deeply asleep Gauri. The movement shook the small bed a little and Gauri shifted slightly closer, burying her face in his chest. Her warm breath hit his chest and brought Om back to the present.

Gauri was here with him, in his arms.

Gauri trusted him enough to keep her safe.

Gauri, terrified and wide-eyed, was willing to give him a chance, even after everything she had been through.

Om wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

He did not know when sleep claimed him.

---

"Gauri, do you need more sugar in your coffee?"

Gauri was holding the cup in her hand and staring at the wall, refusing to meet her husband's eyes, unsure what she would find on his face. Anger? Disgust? Lust? Hate?