Author's Note:
The story revolves around the aftermath of the events in my story A Game of Chess. You won't really miss much even if you haven't read it, because this is basically a short romantic story about a loving husband who attempts to heal his wife with love.
This story is perhaps the closest to my heart among all my works. It is dedicated to a man in my life who helped me get over some issues by being such a wonderful listener. I really don't know how this is going to be received but this is just my humble attempt at expressing that I am really grateful for someone's love and kindness.
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It was late night. Armaan entered his bedroom. Pankhudi was already asleep. It was dark, except for one little night lamp pouring its golden light over the sleeping woman. She looked beautiful, her dark hair spread over the pillow like a cloud, her slender delicate body looked like a golden vine forming soft ripples on the sheet as she slept. Her delicate eyelids were closed and fluttered slightly, perhaps she was dreaming. Just looking at her was the best part of his day. He sat down next to her and gently ran a hand over her, feeling her silky hair and her smooth skin. Her pregnancy had added a lovely pink glow to her cheeks.
He bent over and kissed her cheek. She was still asleep. He decided not to disturb her and walked over to the attached terrace. The location of the bungalow was close to the sea, the terrace overlooked the rocky coast. The night was dark and there was no moon. The water was pitch black, and the frothy waves roared like a demon threatening to consume all that was good in the world. Armaan stood tall and strong, like a wall between his beloved Pankhudi and anything that would try to hurt her. His guilt of having failed to protect her was tearing him apart, but he held on with whatever strength he had left, promising himself he wouldn't let any further harm come her way.
He sat down on the chair as the cool sea breeze sang a lament. He lit a cigarette and smoked trying to calm himself. He leaned back on the cushioned chair and glanced at Pankhudi through the glass wall separating the balcony from the bedroom. She was his most prized possession.
He looked up at the stars as he smoked, then closed his eyes thinking of all the things he would do to fix the damage that was done, or avenge it. He had already got the men who raped Pankhudi, murdered and each and every copy of her videos destroyed. But he still couldn't find Meera. He did everything in his power to make escaping the city impossible for her. After the evidence that set Neil free, the police were now after Meera. Her bank accounts and safe houses were seized, and there was a lookout for her on all escape routes. Armaan had his own men looking for Meera. They had managed to hunt down her most trusted informer. They recovered a lot of cash from him that Meera had entrusted to him, as she asked him to hold her money, till she could arrange a fake passport and visa so that she could leave the country. But now that she had lost every last bit of her money, her trusted informer dead and her network disrupted, she was like a rat on a sinking vessel and her fate almost sealed.
Armaan was willing to forgive Meera for what she did to him, but what she did to Pankhudi made her just as horrible a person as him, and Armaan was never going to forgive her for that. He just hoped he'd find her soon so that he could settle scores in the most unimaginable ways.
Pankhudi stirred as she sensed Armaan's presence. She opened her eyes and looked at his silhouette in the balcony. She got up and walked towards him.
"When did you come?" she asked, taking small steps towards him.
Armaan smiled seeing her. "A while ago," he said, "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"Don't worry about it," she said smiling at him, "Did you eat something?"
"Yes, I did," he said, "Thanks, Pankh."
She sat down on his lap and put her arms around his neck. "Would you please put that out?" she said looking at the burning cigarette in his hand, "It's not good for the baby."
"Of course," Armaan said at he put out the cigarette and wrapped his arms around his wife.
"Tomorrow is a special day," she whispered in his ear, "I hope you will spend the day with me, I've planned a little something."
"What's tomorrow?" he asked.
"You forgot?" she said with a hint of disappointment, "It's your birthday Armaan!"
"Yeah right," he said suddenly remembering, "I am going to be forty two tomorrow. At my age, you don't really care for birthdays, you know."
"Well," she said teasingly, "Just because you are an old man, doesn't mean everything has to be boring all the time."
Armaan laughed. He was 13 years elder to her. She was youthful and playful, while he was wise and calm.
Pankhudi rested her head against his chest. She could feel his beating heart. Armaan felt so calm holding her, he ran his fingers through her hair. She held his face between her palms and locked lips with him. She kissed him deeply and passionately. She sunk deeper into his arms, wordlessly asking him to touch her. He ran his hands down her shoulders around her arms. Then he moved over to her breasts and whispered in her ear, "May I?"
Pankhudi nodded granting him permission, and he began to sensually rub her breasts. She turned, her back now resting against his chest, she rested her head against his shoulder, exposing her neck to him. Armaan brought his lips to her neck, and Pankhudi moaned in pleasure as he licked her neck sending pleasurable sensations all over her body. She was wearing a satin night gown, Armaan traced her beautiful curves and moved his hand over her belly. Pankhudi was drowning in sexual pleasure as he lightly stroked her nipples and continued rubbing her belly, seeking her permission to proceed further. She felt his erection under her, and she opened her legs to let him touch her sweet spot.
Armaan slid a finger inside her panties and ran it along her wet slit. He felt her hard clit as she moaned louder and louder as he rubbed her with slow and sensual strokes. With each touch of his finger, she felt a wave of pleasure running through her body. She knew she was nearing orgasm, and she closed her eyes in surrender. And then suddenly it all came crashing down. The nightmares returned, along with the pain and the humiliation. The dark memory of how she was tortured, forced to call herself degrading names every time her body was forced to orgasm. The emotional damage was such that Pankhudi couldn't have another orgasm without feeling guilt and shame. The memory of how she was raped, humiliated, degraded, and her plight laughed at, began to sting her like a million scorpions. She screamed loudly, very loudly.
Armaan stopped instantly, and got very worried. Pankhudi broke down into tears and curled up and sunk into his arms.
"I am sorry," she cried, "I am really sorry..."
Armaan understood what had happened. "It's alright sweetheart," he said holding her close as she sobbed in his arms. He showered her with kisses as he rubbed her back gently, trying to pacify her.
After a while Pankhudi stopped crying. But she was very weary and emotionally drained. She fell asleep in his arms. Armaan felt stabbed in the heart to see Pankhudi's broken condition. She loved him deeply, and always tried to hide her pain behind a sweet smile, but slowly she was coming undone. He has taken her to a psychiatrist and she had been attending therapy session to deal with her post traumatic stress disorder. But nothing seemed to be helping. Although she was cheerful most of the times, she often woke up screaming at night. She tried to fight the painful memories, he knew she did, but she was losing strength, off late it all seemed like a losing battle. Her condition was worsening, her panic attacks were now more frequent, and he felt so helpless. He held her in his arms, and closed his eyes. His mind was so agitated, but he took deep breaths to calm himself. Perhaps it was his weariness or the cool sea breeze, he drifted off to sleep.
The rays of the morning sun kissed them awake. Pankhudi woke up first and ran her delicate fingers over his face. Then she locked lips with him, till he was awake.
"Happy Birthday, Hubby," she said with a bright smile. She shined like a diamond in the morning light.
"So," he asked, "What has my lovely wife planned for the day?"
