Chapter 32 Deepak

Chapter 32 Deepak

DEEPAK: Mom has the aunties. Hold the fort.

PREM: Got it

BENJAMIN: Done, brother.

"Veera!" Deepak called out as he burst through his front door.

Heart pounding, he locked the entrance, then jogged up the stairs to the main level. The kitchen was dark, empty, with discarded

dishes in the sink, exactly as they had left it that morning.

"Vee?" he called her name again, as he strode past the dining room where Veera had left her laptop and charging cable, through

the living room, which was clean for once, with the throw pillows in their appropriate corners, positioned at an angle. The

shadows of neighborhood vibrancy pulsed through his sliding doors, muted by his curtains.

He took the stairs two at a time to their bedroom, the one that they had shared since they'd first had sex—since they'd first

made love. The lights were on, the bed unmade, but Veera was still missing.

He spun in a circle, unsure of what to do with himself, when he heard footsteps through the ceiling. They were coming from the guest suite. When was the last time she'd gone up there other than to get dressed? To store her things? His stomach knotted at the thought of her wanting to sleep in a separate bed than him now that she'd spoken to her sister.

He turned and ran up to the third floor, cursing the number of stairs in his town house.

"Veera?" he called out again. This time, he saw light from under the door at the end of the hall. She was here. She was still

in their home. He was going to knock and tell her that he wanted to give her whatever support she needed. Deepak was going

to be rational and calm about this, even as his heart began to pound at the thought of losing her.

Assess, address, then reevaluate.

As he approached her bedroom, all common sense flitted out of his brain.

He busted the door open.

She stood in front of the bed, an empty suitcase on top of the comforter. Half her clothes were folded and placed neatly inside.

Her face was blotchy, her mascara smudged as if she'd recently cried. She wore his Columbia sweatshirt and the leggings that

he loved because they cupped her butt.

"Deepak?"

Why was she packing? Why had she been crying?

If she planned on leaving him, there was no way he was going to let her go without a fight. Or without some serious begging

on his part.

"No," he said, his voice so cutting that she jerked back at the sound of it.

She gaped at him. "No? What do you mean no ? You can't just barge in and say no."

"I can, and I did," he said. Then in a fit of panic, he strode over to her suitcase, scooped up the folded piles she'd made, his arms overflowing with jeans, T-shirts, and blouses that she'd neatly packed in the bag, and walked out the door.

"Deepak, what are you doing?" she said, her voice reedy and high-pitched. "Where are you going?"

He stormed downstairs, across the landing, and into his bedroom. The sensor lights flickered on as he walked into his closet

and turned toward the built-in dresser. That's where he'd cleared out space for her things a week ago. He managed to open

one of the drawers and dropped the pile of clothes inside. Deepak shoved the drawer closed, then turned around and headed

back upstairs, with Veera following at his heels.

"Wait," she called after him, even as he went straight to the closet in the guest room and grabbed all of her new pantsuits

in a bear hug, yanking them off the wooden rod, before he walked past her again.

"Deepak, stop! I need those!"

"You are not packing," he said then practically raced back down to his suite where he came to a halt in the middle of the

closet and scanned all the meticulously designed shelfing units. Shit, he hadn't thought about where her clothes would hang.

He'd have to build out an extension so that she had ample room.

Veera stormed in after him and stood in the middle of his suite, hands fisted at her sides. "Let go of my clothes, Deepak!

I can't believe I'm saying this, but you are making a mess, and you need to stop right now!"

"You're not going anywhere," he shot back. Then he dropped the armful of soft fabrics between them, the same fabric that smelled

like Veera. Silks, satins, and cottons fluttered to the floor. He stepped over them and reached for her.

Some of his anxiety abated when she didn't shy away from his touch. As careful as he'd ever been in his life, Deepak stroked his hands over her shoulders to her wrists, touching her cheese tattoo, the diamond ring, and tugging her closer so he could lean down and kiss her puffy eyelids.

She let him do all those things, remaining pliant in his arms. Was she mad at him? Was she so angry that she was packing up

to go? If so, why wasn't she raging now? Why wasn't she telling him to leave?

"Married spouses live together," he said, looking down at her upturned face.

"Fake married," she said, like the world's worst broken record.

"We'll go to city hall tomorrow and we'll get that fixed, then. I was planning on taking care of the marriage certificate

soon, anyway."

Veera tugged her arms out of his grasp, then stepped back. "Before I yell at you for messing up my clothes, tell me what Olivia

said to you in the upstairs office. Did she mention my sister?"

"That's what you want to talk about?" he asked, incredulous. He was losing his mind in fear that she was leaving him, that

at best she was moving back upstairs and at worst she was going to stay with Sana and Olivia.

"That's what I want to talk about," she said.

Deepak scraped a hand over his jaw, a small stubble forming where he'd shaved that morning. "If you're asking whether I know

about Sana's CEO candidacy, I do. I don't care."

Veera gaped. "What do you mean, you don't care?"

He shrugged. "I don't care. I did for a moment, but then I realized that if I fought back, you'd be stuck in the middle and

I'm not doing that to you."

She held up her hand again to stop him. "You almost married Olivia Gupta to secure your legacy. What happened to wanting to honor your grandfather or something like that?"

"I want you," he shouted. "I want you! I love you, Veera. Why the fuck didn't you tell me that you loved me, too?"

His roar lingered in the room, and then there was silence. Veera's eyes went wide. "Y-you know."

"Olivia," he said, breathing heavily.

He'd assessed, addressed, and reevaluated his life over and over again, and the truth had been there right in front of him

from the very start.

He realized now that he'd been so afraid that she wouldn't love him in the same way he loved her. That if he kept quiet, there

was hope they could hold on to whatever friendship they'd begun their relationship with, even if it was false hope.

His heart pounded in his ears hard enough that he could barely hear his own voice. His palms sweat, and his breath came out

in ragged bursts as he looked at his very serious best friend, his partner, his wife, who was stunned into silence. "Vee,

whether you're in the middle of the office, or you're in my home wearing my clothes, leaving your cords and cables everywhere,

I love you. I want to be with you. I want to show you how you are the most important person in my life, and I swear I will

never take you for granted again."

Veera's eyes filled with tears. "You... you love me?"

"Until I'm mad with it," he whispered. He felt like he was toppling over an edge and falling had never felt so breathtakingly

beautiful before.

When she didn't say anything, when all she could do was stare at the clothes on the floor, he had an idea.

"Don't move," he said. Then he ran out of his room to the small hallway pantry next to the stairs. He rarely opened the single pane closet door since he only used it as a way to honor his parents. The motion sensor lights flickered on, and at eye level was a tiny shelf decorated with statues of Hindu gods and goddesses. In front of the statues was a small, mirrored tray holding a few essential vials and containers.

Deepak retrieved a red flat plastic container the size of a dollar coin. Then he ran back to his room, careful not to spill

the vermilion powder.

Veera was still standing next to the pile of her clothes that he'd dumped on the floor, and he approached her while carefully

opening the container.

Veera's eyes widened. "What are you—"

"From the moment we walked around that fire on the beach, you've been my life partner. My jeevansathi." He pressed his thumb in the powder, and in one firm flick of his wrist, he streaked it along her

hairline, marking her as his wife.

As a married woman.

That's when she let out a loud, wet sob.

"I've loved you from the beginning, Deepak," Veera said, her voice cracking. "And you never saw me as anything more than a

friend until you couldn't have the woman you wanted."

He was so stunned that this brilliant incredible woman could ever believe she was his substitute when all he'd ever wanted

was to be with her, knowing that he was the one who was never good enough for her.

"How could you think that you could ever be second best to anyone?" he whispered.

Veera sniffled, then spun on her heels. "I need to go upstairs," she said. She reached up to touch the powder, then her hand

dropped at her side as she began to walk out the door.

No, he thought. No, she was leaving him. She loved him, but she was still packing to go.

"For god's sake, will you stop running away from me?" he shouted, panic a fist in his gut. "I thought you needed space, but

this is not just space, is it? You're leaving again. You ran away to Europe—"

Veera gasped and turned to face him again. "Because I lost my job! I lost my father ."

"You ran away from us," he shot back. "I was a fool, but so were you. And now you're running away again! That's cowardly for

someone as resilient as you. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out that I was afraid of how much I loved you. We're together

now, and I don't want to let you go. Don't let me go, either. Please."

Then, because he knew he was begging for his life here, he crossed to her and got to his knees in front of her, before he

wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face into her abdomen.

"Please," he said into her shirt, the pounding in his ears growing impossibly louder. "I swear, I will show you how much I

love you every day for the rest of our lives together. I need your cords everywhere, your throw pillows, and our movie marathons.

I need to go to the bakery at the corner and know that you'll order the blueberry scone for me, but you'll eat half of it.

I need to know that we'll always toast with a whiskey at a party, because we've decided that it's bad luck if we don't. I

need to watch those healthy cooking YouTube videos with you knowing that we'll end up ordering out anyway. I need you by my

side like I need air because just being in the same room with you makes me feel like I'm the strongest man alive even if I

lose Illyria."

He buried his face in her stomach, and then felt the tentative touch of her fingers in his hair, stroking over his shoulders, and he shuddered. There was the sound of a sob, and Veera fell to her knees in front of him, so that they both were caught up in each other's arms, holding on like they'd finally found each other, even though they'd been right there the whole time.

"I can't believe you called me a coward," she whispered, as she cupped his face in her hands. "Then you acted like some Bollywood

movie hero and put sindoor in my hair."

"Desperate times," he whispered back.

"I can get my own scone," she replied.

He pressed a kiss against her wrist. "I love you even if you don't, Vee. I love you for all of it. Just please don't go."

There was a long pause, until finally, she giggled. She giggled and hiccupped. "I wasn't going anywhere," she whispered. "I

wanted to move my clothes down here into your suite because I had no intention of letting you miss out on what we are together.

We're partners. I won't get between you and my sister. And you aren't going to ask me to choose. But we're permanent fixtures

in each other's lives."

He felt like he was having one of those heart attacks again, the ones he'd been telling Prem about. He shuddered, pulling

her closer into his arms.

"Vee, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to catch up," he mumbled against her throat, his arms banded around her back, while

she circled his shoulders and neck.

"You're forgiven," he heard her whisper.

It was a while before they pulled apart, separating inch by inch, each added degree of space punctuated by kisses and tentative touches. They caught their breaths, and Deepak knew the rush of almost losing each other was an adrenaline spike they needed to process.

He looked at the mess he'd made and sighed. "I'm going to have to pay for dry cleaning, aren't I?"

She sniffled and nodded. "Yes. Do you really not care anymore about the CEO position?"

"As long as I have you, then, no."

"That's ridiculous," she said, then blotted at her cheeks with her sleeve. "If you're as smart as I know you are, you should

be able to figure out how to love me and keep the company. I've never asked you to sacrifice Illyria for me, to sacrifice the legacy that's so important to you, and

you wouldn't be the man I loved if you were so willing to give up bazillions of dollars."

He chuckled and helped her to her feet. "Is that an official financial adviser term?"

She raised an eyebrow, managing to look haughty despite her botchy swollen eyes. "Want me to calculate your net worth to figure

out to the decimal point how expensive your sacrifice will be?"

"No, I trust you," he said, before he pressed his lips firmly against hers, kissing her until he felt his knees weaken and

his chest swell.

When they came up for air, he said, "Love you, wifey."

Veera sighed. "We're going to have to work on that."