Ajay slowly blinked his eyes open, as soon as he realized that Karan, the inspector, had left.
He turned took a deep breath, staring straight ahead at Sonia, who was on her knees, crying.
He turned his head to look at his mother, who held him in a tight grip, her tears landing on Ajay's face.
"Kabhi kabhi," He took a deep breath, struggling. "Kuch jeetne ke liya kuch harna padta hai."
Sonia looked up at him, smiling.
"Aur haar kar jeetne waale ko Baazigar kehte hain." She finished, standing up and walking towards him.
She turned back around. "Karan," she began to call back.
"No. No. Don't."
Ajay adjusted his position, groaning in pain. His mom quickly reacted, unbuttoning his shirt.
"What are you wearing?"
Ajay was wearing a thick vest that spanned over his entire chest.
There was a slight indent in the vest, but there was no hole.
It took a moment, but Priya understood. "The spear never even hit you. It was embedded in the vest."
Ajay nodded. He slowly sat up, groaning from pain.
Despite the vest, Ajay had still received several wounds on his arms and legs, not to mention the cuts on his face.
Grasping Sonia's arm, Ajay stood up, balancing on her.
"We need to go back to Mumbai."
So they did.
Ajay sat in his office chair, waiting for his wife's call. She had told him she would call at 4 p.m. on the dot.
It was 3:30.
He was worried that Priya would get tense or nervous if he didn't answer. Ever since her father's death, she was overprotective, in the need of consistently trying to be aware of his whereabouts.
She was paranoid that someone would come after him.
Not to the point that it consumed her, but she worried for him. And he worried for their unborn child, so he indulged all of her wishes.
Ajay Sharma was a fairly decent actor. Actually, he was a great actor.
Which meant he should have been able to pretend that he did not love Priya once he recovered.
But he couldn't.
He should have shaken her off and moved on.
But he couldn't.
He still needed her like never before.
He still lived for her, breathed for her.
He always had.
The only reason he was able to tear himself away and take over her father's company was the blood of his family hanging over his head like a staring shadow.
But even while committing the deed, he couldn't bear the thought of her knowing about his lies.
He couldn't bear the thought of her hating him.
When he had first felt this wave of love, he didn't know what it was.
He didn't think it could be love because he didn't think he was capable of love for anyone but his mother.
Not after what had happened to him.
But he could, because love healed all.
His wounds, his heart.
All healed.
He was shaken out of his reverie with his phone ringing.
He rubbed his eyes before picking up the phone.
"Hey."
"Ajay. Get down here now. I'm at the hospital."
"Mom?'
But the phone had already hung up.
Ajay quickly got up, dashing through the door and out the building.
He looked around for a couple seconds, trying to recollect where he had parked his car.
When he located the convertible, he ran toward it, hopping in and slamming the gas pedal.
His coat flew slightly behind him in the wind, as he raced through the streets, coaxing the maximum possible speed out of his car.
He hastily threw his key to the valet at the hospital, racing up the steps and through the doors.
He ran to the desk, nearly out of breath. He was about to speak to the lad sitting behind the countertop when he heard his mother's voice behind him.
"She's this way." She grabbed her son's hand, slowly leading him towards the maternity ward.
Ajay's eyes widened, as he took in where he was being led. Priya.
"Is she… Is she okay?" Ajay looked at his mother, terror covering his face, as the thought of losing his wife hovered over him.
His mother shook her head patronizingly, her eyes scoffing at him.
"Ajay. She's giving birth."
Ajay smiled shyly, walking into the room.
Priya was surprisingly calm. She looked at her husband, a smile gracing her face. "Finally."
Ajay quickly walked up to her, holding her hand.
"Let's do this. Together."
Ajay and Priya stood at their new factory, inaugurating the new factory that was being built for their daughter. She had always been obsessed with action figures, particularly those of Bollywood actors, so her parents, being the loving people they were, gifted her with her own factory.
It was an irrelevant fact that the girl was only two years of age. Her parents were still dedicated to fulfilling her dreams.
Ajay held Priya in his arms as they lay around lazily, waiting for the world to realize they were missing.
Priya pondered back over that fateful day in her lives where her father had died.
It had taken her a while to get over the fact that Ajay had killed her sister.
That he had pretended to be someone else just to woo her to get to her father.
That once he had fallen in love with her, he refused to tell her the truth.
That he wouldn't believe that she would stand by him.
But she understood his reasons.
And she loved him dearly, like she'd never loved anyone before.
The first time she'd seen him, he spoke a couple sentences to her. And she was left dreaming about him.
She was so fortunate that he had thought ahead. That he had survived that day.
Because she wasn't sure what would have happened to her,
She probably would have married Karan.
But she knew that she wouldn't have been happy. And now she was. So it was okay.
They had lost to much to win so much.
They were happy.
They were Baazigars.