The Clingy Fiancee

Chapter Ten

“What is it that you wanted to ask?” I said, squirming in my seat at her scrutiny, and I clearly knew what the question she wanted to ask me was.

“Why did you suddenly look doubtful when I said that he still remembers his love for you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

I really didn’t know how to answer that. Telling her who I was to Neil once upon a time was one thing, but telling her the depth of my feelings for him and the details of the past few months was difficult.

Yet that woman had something in her – she had those deep eyes that drew you in and made you want to tell her all your secrets. They had that motherly twinkle, and her presence was enough for anyone to feel like she had the answers to every problem.

And she probably did.

“I...I don’t bel –”

“What did that boy do to you, Myra? What is it that makes you doubt the love he had- no, has for you – and it’s crystal clear to anyone who sees the way he looks at you even now?” She pried.

“He didn’t do anything.” I told her, looking away from the gaze that was burning with questions, “It was me. I became too dependent on him – emotionally and physically, and it drove him away. He proposed to me and just within a week I managed to suffocate him so much that he broke off our engagement.”

She frowned and I continued, “His friends had never really liked me – they were rooting for him to be with their other friend, who is madly in love with him, but he fell in love with me instead. A love that came to an end six months back.”

She firmly shook her head at my words, “I think you’re getting everything wrong, sweetie. It’s not love if you cannot be emotionally and physically vulnerable to the one you love. He must really love you if he wanted to marry you; I think it was just cold feet that caused him to do that. I’m sure he never stopped loving you.”

“No,” I said stubbornly, “it wasn’t cold feet. If that was the case, then he would’ve had come back to me when he had those two months before the accident. If he wants to be close to me now, then it’s just the familiarity he feels now that makes him want it, not love. You have got it all wrong, Misha.”

“No. You have got it all wrong.” She argued, and I had to admit, I wanted to childishly leave the room and drop the argument right there. She was getting on my nerves; “I’m sure he wanted to come back to you, but was afraid to do so because he knew what he did to you had hurt you. It could have been that there had been some unresolved issues he was trying to solve – perhaps with his friends – and was then deciding to come to you, but the accident happened.”

I shook my head, “It can’t be that. The day when his friends came to me to tell me that he had died, they had, clearly, been believing that I was the one who had broken everything off.”

“Who died?” a curious voice appeared from the door, startling both of us.

Neil should really start giving some kind of indication before he enters a room.

Misha had composed herself long before I could, “She’s telling me about her ex fiancé.” she told him the half truth.

“Ex fiancé?” Neil said, his brow furrowing at the word, “You were engaged?” he asked me.

I nodded, “I did –”

“And he died in an accident similar to yours.” She told him bluntly.

“He died?” Did he...actually look relieved? Well, we were talking about the love of my life here and he looked relieved that he was dead?

“You look happy at the news of his death boy; can I know the reason why?” Misha raised a brow at him, but I could see that she was reigning in her laughter.

The tips of his ears turned red.

“No...I’m not happy. Why would I be?” He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter, “Why would I be happy? Why would I even feel anything? I don’t even know that man.” He said and exited the room before Misha bombarded him with more questions.

Misha’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he hurried away.

“You saw that?” Misha turned to me when he was out of hearing range. “That man loves you, and is obsessed with you. He is jealous of a man who’s a part of your past – and he doesn’t even know he’s jealous of himself. Don’t be silly and open your eyes to see what’s right in front of you.”

I didn’t try telling her that opening my eyes would only result in a heart-break, and I was alright being ignorant to everything in the world.

***************************************

It was evening and I was doing the dishes, with Neil, once again, right next to me. True to his intent, he hadn’t left me alone for a single moment throughout the rest of the day though I knew he was burning from the want to ask a question.

“Myra?” He asked conversationally, as if his curiosity hadn't been killing him for the past few hours.

“Yes.”

“Did you love him?” Oh, so that was the question he wanted to ask me. Didn’t he ask me the same question at the skypark, after he had asked me why I was crying?

“I still love him.” I told him honestly, again, and he stiffened, pausing his movement.

“It must be hard for you, right?” I looked up at him and saw him gulping slowly, concentrating on the dish he was keeping back in the rack, “You had probably been dreaming about a forever together when the accident happened.”

I shook my head at him, “Not really.” He turned to me in surprise, “He broke off his engagement with me within a week of proposing. I was trying to move on when the news of his death came to me.”

His body relaxed – I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh at his little gestures or punch him for being such a jealous i***t, “Was he an i***t?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I was so tempted to tell him that yes, he was an i***t, and right now, he again was being one.

“I don’t think so." I huffed,"It was popularly believed that he was a smart man.” The dish I was washing could have broken into pieces with the force I was using to scrub it.

“No, I’m pretty sure he was an i***t to leave you.” He rolled his eyes, “I don’t know how he could do that – I would rather kill myself than ever think of leaving you...uh...I mean... leaving someone I love so much.” My heart fluttered at his slip up, and I took in a deep breath to calm my over-analyzing mind, “How long were you two together for?”

“Seven years.” I whispered, feigning nonchalance as if seven years was no big deal. His head whipped towards me.

“He really was an ass, wasn’t he?” He said and I chuckled, my chuckles slowly turning into a full blown laughter. I was actually going to wait for him to get back his lost memories, and then I’d love to see him cringe in remembrance of him calling himself an ass.

Well, only if he let me stay in his life afterwards.

“It’s not funny.” He gritted out, annoyed at me laughing so loudly. He grabbed my arm and turned me so I was forced to look at him, “You deserve much better than that pitiful ass. Seven years is a long time for someone to know if you want to be with someone or not. He was an i***t ass. Period.”

I sobered up – he was too tense. Both of his hands were on my arm, and we were standing too close for me to breathe without wanting to kiss him. So I did the thing that would stop me from kissing him.

I hugged him.

I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and then buried my face into his chest. His sharp intake of breath told me that I took him by surprise, and I smiled in his chest.

He felt so damn good, warm and mine. Even though I no longer knew that I owned his heart and body, he still felt mine when he was so close to me. The warmth of the hug, the rapid beating of his heart, and the arms of his that slowly came to gather me in an embrace threatened to bring out all the unshed tears that I had held in.

His arms tightened around me and I inhaled deeply, letting him rock both of us softly until he kissed my hair.

It made my heart clench.

God, I loved him so much that it hurt. A dull ache settled in my chest when I realised that once again, a day will come when all these hugs, this warmth would be snatched away from me cruelly.

“Myra...” he whispered, “It was your ex you were crying for back at the bridge?”

“Yes.” I murmured, not looking up and just burrowing myself deeper in his warm embrace. I was surprised he even let me stand so close to him.

Perhaps, Misha was really telling me the truth; maybe I was just denying everything that was right in front of me because I feared rejection.

“I thought you two were doing the dishes.”

Take the name of the devil and the devil is here.

A curt, yet amused voice cut in, and I sprang apart – or rather tried to, because Neil’s arms were still around me. I looked up at him nervously, waiting for him to realize that he still had me trapped close to his chest.

“We were doing just that Misha,” I tried to explain while Neil kept on glaring at Misha.

“I can see it, dear Myra.” Misha glared back at Neil, “Son, I think you and I need to have a serious talk. You have lost a lot of manners that you need to learn again - knocking before entering the room, and doing the dishes when you are told to being two of the lessons.”

“I don’t think so.” Neil retorted childishly, and I wanted to laugh at the face off that was happening right in front of me.

“You have to stop mauling the poor girl,” she admonished him; “Else she will run away back to India without you. Give her some time to breathe! You have been hovering over her for the whole day!”

I couldn’t really see Neil’s reaction because his face was turned away from me. But from the smug twinkle in Misha’s eyes, I knew he was either glaring at her harder, or blushing.

I shook my head slowly, containing my laughter, because even after Misha’s scolding and glaring, Neil still hadn’t released me.

For a lot of reasons, a warm feeling flared up in my chest, along with a fear, that if this continued, letting Neil go would be the hardest thing in the world for me.