A/N : This story is inspired by James Blunt's 'Goodbye My Lover'. I love that song. It concretes my heart and I have to blink back tears.
Note : Written for the Abhirika-drabble-competition by KamiKaze Black. Though it's suppose to be a drabble but it's way longer, sort of a one-shot. Sorry! I'm shit at typing down random scenes.
Overlook the grammatical and spelling mistakes.
Love.
xoxo
|::| We Survived |::|
He was leaving, for good. His job, friends, the one person he was in love with, everyone and every-sodding-thing. He had had enough of being judged. He was torn between what's needed to be done and what's right. At the end he did what he needed to do and now everyone, especially the vultures known as journalists, were pinpointing on the fact that his power-of-position had got the best of him. Which was not truth, I must add.
He was every bit of sincere and respectful towards his job and position didn't matter to him. His team had to face the shame of his deed. No one understood that it was the only thing he could do to save the life of that child.
A four year old child, who had no idea that he was about to be shot to death. If he hadn't shot the captor of the child, she'd have killed him. Just looking at him was enough for Abhijeet to determine himself to save the boy, no matter what. He thought about the child he'd father one day and what he would be willing to do to save him. Then, without another thought, he pressed the trigger and BANG!
The lady was shot on the arm and slipped from the edge of the cliff, throwing the boy at the opposite direction. Abhijeet ran forward and caught him.
It had been a month since then. Somehow ACP Pradyuman had managed to convince the authorities that he had no other way to protect the child, which was true but the media were hawking like hungry leopards. They were not at any cost buying THAT explanation. Though he had been temporarily suspended for almost two weeks now, ten days to be precise, he pretty much managed being on the front page everyday. He was tired. He wanted to leave all the chaos. Abhijeet was always the patient one, the fighter. This time he was running away though. He could see how much pain he was causing his close ones. Specially Tarika.
Tarika.
He let out a sigh, thinking about her. He let her down so many times by giving importance to his job more than her. She never complained, but this time, he was leaving for good even without telling her.
He loved her. He absolutely had no doubt about that. But his actions, at times, had been the reason for her heartache. He was to propose her finally for marriage. After four years of flirting and five years of being in a relationship. He, in fact, had bought the ring the day before that horrendous incident had happened.
'She'd have loved the ring,' he thought to himself but alas! She was never going to find out about it.
He was in the airport, waiting. His passport and other necessary papers in his hand as he sat on the chair in the waiting area. He let out a long sigh. He was being a coward, for the first time in his life. Well at least first time since after his memories were gone. But he needed and wanted a break from everything.
Tarika was always there for him but he couldn't be a good boyfriend to her. He couldn't give her the time, the appreciation she deserved. Yet she gave away her soul to him and now, like a selfish-pompous-arse, he's leaving after taking her heart. He felt hallow. This would devastate her. He was sure of it. Her soul would be crushed.
They had planned so much over the years. They moved in two years back. After they moved in together, his life took turn in a direction he never had experienced before. He never had a family and then there Tarika was. The only thing he had.
She waited till he returned home. Even if she had her dinner already, she sat with him and watched him eat. He could be relaxed around her. They would only talk sometimes till the wee hours of night. He felt content having her wrapped in his arms. They even planned on trying for a baby after all this mess was over. Now, he's willing to let all that go.
He put his hand in the front pocket of his coat to bring out the ring he had bought for her. A simple platinum band with an emerald stone set on it. In the inside, the words "Nous serons toujours survivre" were engraved. He blinked back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.
'She'll be hurt but will move on,' he assured himself, 'May be she'll also be able to forgive me someday for being a coward.'
Just then his phone rang. It was Tarika again. He put the phone in silent mode. He was about to shut his phone off but for some 'unknown' reason he didn't. Moments later he found that she had left a voice message. His lips tugged downwards in a grimace and a frown ceased his forehead.
"Abhijeet!" her concerned voice came from the other side, concreting his heart. "Your phone has been out of reach for days. You didn't even come home after they sacked you." There's that word again. Home. She was his home. She felt and smelled home.
"Where are you? Your clothes are all gone. I'm worried.. I know it's hard but-" her voice trailed off and he heard her muffle a sob, "Come home. Please! I..I need you. Gods!" She sounded frustrated and upset. "Since when you've started to runaway from troubles? You can't leave me like this you..you inconsiderate git." Her voice rose. "Come back home this instant Abhijeet, no matter where you are. I haven't been able to even sleep. Else I'll have my ways to get you back you dumbass." She cried. Her voice choked as she said, "I love you Abhijeet. At least tell me that you're safe." The message ended after a few moments.
He was standing in front of their home. He could smell her even from outside of the doorway. He was home. He finally realized that no trouble was worth letting her go. They were survivors after all. He couldn't live without her and neither could she.
He knocked on the door. His luggage resting on the ground beside him. He heard her shuffling along the passage towards the door. The door opened and she stood motionless for a few seconds before realizing who was standing in front of her. He stared at her as he saw hundreds of emotions crossing her face. Her beautiful face lit with a kind of radiant pain, as if she'd been bitten by a miracle.
They stood there like that, looking at each other, for about a minute and then she leapt into his arms. She clung onto him furiously, as if he was her life-depending-source. Her arms around his neck tightly. He wasn't prepared and so he backed up a few steps but then wrapped her in a bone crushing embrace. She weeped against his shoulder and muttered something like 'idiotic bustard' or something along those lines. He buried his face in her hair and took in her scent.
O how much he had missed her!
"Tarika." He pulled back reluctantly after a few minutes. "I'm sorry!" He apologized quietly. "I needed some time to sort my thoughts. I -" he was interrupted by an annoyed Tarika,
"It took you a whole week to sort things out? You randy-nutter!" she screeched, "You could've at least told me where you're going you daft! I nearly had a heart attack."
"I think I have a perfect way to say sorry for my utter stupidity and make it up to you." He gave her his most charming smile but it didn't ease her frown even a bit.
He held out his right hand and took her left in it. She looked gobsmacked but didn't say anything. Waiting to hear what Abhijeet had to say. He brought out the ring from his pocket and looked at her in the eyes.
"Marry me," he said simply and she gulped.
"Wha..what!" she stuttered.
"Marry me and I promise never to run away again. Ever." He smiled and she viciously nodded, bitting her lower lip and blinking back her traitorous tears. He slipped the ring in her finger and hugged her close to his body.
'No matter what,' he thought, 'Leaving her is never ever going to be an option.'
"I love you!" he told her.
"I love you too," she replied.
Additional Note : 'Nous serons toujours survivre' in French means 'We'll always survive'.