Page 114 of Born in Sin
“I’m here to tell you a story, Celina’s story.” She took a deep breath and allowed her mind to go back to a past she’d buried for so long. And then she started talking. She told them everything. She named them all, every single boy who’d thought it was okay to take everything from her – her consent, her pride, her self-respect, her self-worth. All of it. And when she was done, she felt strangely both mentally drained and liberated.
“Why are you talking about this today when you’ve kept quiet for so long?” One of the reporters asked.
“My silence allowed them to prey on other innocent, unsuspecting women. I’ll carry that guilt to my grave but no more. I’ve realised that the shame is theirs, not mine,” she said quietly. “And I won’t carry it with me into the future. I’ve given them enough of my past. My future,” she looked at Virat and smiled. “Is mine and mine only and I plan to share it only with the people I love and choose.”
He smiled back. The cameras went mad, trying to get as many pictures of them in one frame as possible.
“Who is he?” one intrepid journalist asked. “Someone special?”
Cara smiled, her smile blinding in the crowded hospital room. “The most special of them all.”
“And what does the future hold? Outside of the incredibly hot man looking at you like you are the sun in his universe?” One of the younger journalists asked cheekily.
“What does it hold? Living, a lot of living life to the fullest.”
“That’s all for now.” Her manager reacted to the subtle nod Cara gave him and started herding the crowd out of the door.
They went unwillingly, some of them trying to get a quote from Virat who stonewalled them with his trademark blank expression. After the room emptied out and it was just them, he approached her bed.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his gaze roving over her face.
“Tired,” she said, turning on her side, holding out a hand for him to take. He did, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing the fingers.
“I need to ask you for something,” she murmured.
“Anything.” He sat down on the side of her bed, her hand clasped in his. “Ask me and its yours.”
“I want to speak with Majid.”
Virat stilled, his gaze on her face, searching for an answer she wasn’t sure she had. But he didn’t ask her any questions or offer any arguments. He just nodded. “I’ll set it up.”
“Just like that?” she asked, her lips quirking.
He didn’t smile, instead nodded somberly. “Just like that,” he murmured, reaching down to kiss her gently.
“I just need closure.”
“And I don’t need an explanation, Celi. All you ever have to do is let me know what you want.”
“Well, in that case,” she smiled, her fingers slipping under the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “There is something else I want.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Amay will have my head if I’m the reason you rip your stitches or have any kind of setback.”
He kissed her hard and fierce. “Get better soon,” he muttered. “It’s getting really hard to play the hero in this situation.”
“Don’t play the hero,” she mumbled, reaching for him.
But he caught her wrist and held her off. “Behave Celi,” he groaned, resting his forehead against hers and breathing deeply in a vain bid for control.
“I love you, Virat Jha.” The words were a sunburst of light deep inside of her escaping through her lips.
“I have never not loved you, Celina Fernandez. You have my heart, now and always.”
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Whatever you want,” he shifted, lying down beside her in the narrow hospital bed and drawing her close, gently and reverently.
“I want you, I want a life together, I want to smile, and I want, more than anything else, to see you smile.”
