A Shadow Of A Man

Part Eight~ Hide And Seek

Aditya slumped down the wall, he couldn't seem to just forget and forget was all he wanted to do, he envied Zoya she had forgotten him and therefore it wasn't like she had lost anything, but he woke up daily to memories of the loss he had bared. If he clenched his hands tight enough he could still feel her skin on his, her touch as she softly caressed his face when she kissed him, and her kisses were always so easy to lose himself in, he wasn't one to bare himself to a god and admit his sins, but infront of her he was on his knees begging her to heal him, purify his soul and bring him forth from hell and redeem him.

No, no he wasn't a good man. He was a bad man who did things he believed in, things that made the world around him shatter and all of his life he was embedded in darkness but when she looked at him, oh when she looked at him he felt like he was capable of good. His touch had always been so harsh; hands only capable for pain but when he was touching her, all he gave was pleasure. He couldn't get the image out of his mind, she was smiling at him, laughing because of him, her sweet voice calming all of his demons, an unwavering belief in her eyes that would not falter.

He had pushed her away on purpose, it was despicable but she was far too good for him, all these pesky feelings got in the way because every bad word he threw at her, he stabbed himself with ten more. It was an intoxicating rush, she would not back down, she would fight him on every word and all he wanted was her to keep fighting for him, he needed her to win. He wasn't meant to be a part of the fight but every so often when he gazed over the field he saw himself stood opposite her, words of war like a revolver in his hand and they were so good at playing Russian roulette.

They liked to live on the edge, walking atop the blade and waiting for a bullet to release but that was the thrill of it, she wasn't meant to actually get hurt, wasn't meant to leave, his Zoya wasn't meant to die. She had given him the most precious gift, a child to call his own yet he couldn't handle her goodness, she believed in his worth and his ability to father a child, he would let her down and she would leave. He had really thought she would pick him, selfishly he worried about sharing her love, he was needy and didn't want to be up against a child.

Aditya would have cared for the child, a part of him already did, but he couldn't risk losing all he had gained for someone who called him dad, it wasn't a label meant for him but this time she didn't understand, she always understood, this time she had picked someone else and as always Aditya Hooda was never number one.

That was why he called her his rose, he was fully in his rights to look at her from afar, gaze at her beauty and dream of her, but he wasn't meant to have her. As Esmerleda had said, roses weren't for men like him, he could ruin and destroy he could not help her grow, roses were meant to be appreciated, loved for their petals and adored for their thorns, yet his grip had been so tight that petals brushed his skin and thorns dug within her, what a monster he was, he had managed to make her cut herself and all of it had been for him.

If this was love, he wanted none of it but he still craved the pain. The pain was the only reminder that he had ever had her, it was hard to breathe as he recalled how she would sit beside him and read her books, she would not complain when he refused to read them back to her, instead she'd settle beside him and continue without any complaints. He supposed that was why he had tried so hard to read books when he had first met her, she didn't deserve a man who was semi-literate, but every story he had ever heard was imprinted in memory for he couldn't read them without struggling. He was an uneducated man with the ability to do many things, he could write but could not read, she seemed to be the only story worth telling though.

Zoya Siddiqui deserved better than a man like Aditya Hooda, that was the truth his mother had so many times tried to tell him, yet he remained selfish and chased her even when she said no, he had tore her down, ripped her apart so she would love him. She claimed she saw a goodness within him, but with a soul as black as his where exactly had she found the light? He remembered how fondly she spoke of Dr Rowlan, without him she never would have became the woman she was back then, five years without his influence and she was somebody else. Maybe it was for the best, she was a woman untainted by him and that had to count for something.