Chapter Forty-Three: Always

He watched her leave, clenching his fists. He walked towards her, pulling her back into his chest. She gasped as he wrapped his arm around her waist, burying his face in her hair. "If you're so unbothered by me, then let me hold you for a while before I go," he said.

Nehmat, closing her eyes, let her drunken self rest her head on his shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, one you'll lose."

"If I get to hold you for a while, then I'm ready to lose the battle," he whispered in her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine.

"What if I say no?" she asked, breathing heavily.

Smirking, Shubman tightened his grip, making her clutch his hand. "Is Nehmat scared she'll lose herself to this Punjabi guy?"

Nehmat smirked and raised her head to look into his brown eyes. "Is that a challenge?"

Shubman's eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked down at her. "Maybe it is," he said softly, his voice laced with both challenge and affection.

Nehmat felt her heart race, a mix of excitement and apprehension flooding her senses. "You think you can win?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I don't need to win," he replied, his thumb gently stroking her waist. "Just being with you is enough."

Her resolve wavered, but she didn't want to let him see how much he was affecting her. "You're too confident for your own good," she muttered, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

"Only when it comes to you," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Because I know how you feel, even if you won't admit it."

Nehmat felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew she should push him away, and assert her independence, but something in his touch, his words, made her hesitate. "And what do you think I feel?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"I think you feel the same pull I do," he said, his lips brushing against her ear. "The same need to be close, to hold on, even if just for a moment."

Nehmat tried to steady her racing heart. "Isn't that a bit delusional?" she said, attempting to inject some scepticism into her voice. "How can you be so sure?"

Shubman didn't answer right away. Instead, he buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her Zara perfume. "Because the goosebumps on your body tell a different story, darling," he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

Nehmat felt a shiver run through her, unable to deny the physical reaction his touch elicited. She tried to muster a retort, but the words caught in her throat as he continued to nuzzle her neck gently, his lips brushing her skin.

"You can't hide what your body is telling me," he whispered, his voice a blend of confidence and tenderness. "Every time I touch you, you react. Every time I'm near, you can't help but feel it too."

Biting her lip, Nehmat struggled to maintain her composure. "You've had too many drinks," she answered, her voice slightly breathless. "I think you need to sleep."

Shubman chuckled, turning her around and stroking her cheek. "Says the one who got drunk on half a bottle," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Before she could argue, he picked her up in bridal style and walked towards her bedroom. "I know you want it, so let the drunk mind of yours rest and don't argue," he said, his tone firm yet gentle.

Where was her anger and betrayal now? Where was it when she needed it to confront him? It seemed as though they, too, had shared drinks together and were now resting somewhere deep in her heart.

Nehmat felt tired from all the fighting, from being strong all the time. But once again, when she was in his arms, she felt vulnerable. Resting her head on his chest, she let him do whatever he wanted.

Lying her down, he lay next to her, pulling her into his embrace. As he held her close, Nehmat's mind raced with conflicting emotions. She wanted to push him away, to assert her independence and stand her ground. But at the same time, she couldn't deny the comfort of his arms, the warmth of his presence.

"Gill," she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shifted slightly, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly. "Yes, Nehmat?" he murmured, his tone gentle.

She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "How did Meera convince you to marry her?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability.

He shifted again, this time to rest his cheek on the top of her head, his gaze fixed on the distant Alps. "She blackmailed me, to be precise," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Emotional blackmail."

Nehmat's curiosity prickled, and she gently prodded, "How, if you don't mind me asking?"

Shubman's jaw clenched as he recalled the painful memory. "She said she would let the world know how I played with both of you for my career rise," he confessed, his voice strained with the weight of the past. "And if I didn't agree to her demands, she would ruin my career."

Nehmat's heart clenched at his words, a mixture of anger and sympathy churning within her. "Bitch," she breathed, unable to comprehend the depth of Meera's manipulation.

Shubman nodded, his expression reflecting the bitterness he felt. "She is," he agreed, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "But I was young and foolish then, and I made choices I'm not proud of."

Nehmat, raising her eyebrows, asked, "Then divorce, how did it happen?"

"Before coming here to Switzerland, I was drowning myself in your wines at the bar like always," Shubman began, his voice heavy with the weight of the memory. "And when Paaji was dropping me home, the media was outside the bar. I threatened the reporters who tipped them off about my location, and that's when I came to know it was Meera."

He continued, his tone filled with bitterness, "I threw divorce papers on her face, papers I had made months ago knowing they would come in handy. And in the midst of our fight, she revealed how she had morphed all the photos to snatch me away from you, how it was a big mistake to be with someone as dumb as..." He trailed off, the words hanging heavily in the air, the pain of the past still raw in his heart.

Nehmat chuckled angrily, clutching his t-shirt. "Well, she was not wrong about the last part because you are dumb for believing all that fake evidence," Nehmat said, fuming with tears.

Shubman's heart clenched at Nehmat's words, a pang of guilt washing over him. He gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away her tears. "I know, Nehmat," he whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "I was blinded by anger and hurt. I let her manipulations cloud my judgment."

Nehmat met his gaze, her anger softening into a mixture of pain and understanding. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me," she said, her voice wavering with emotion. "But it still doesn't change the fact that you did."

Shubman's heart sank at the truth in her words. He had caused her so much pain, and had let his own insecurities and past mistakes drive a wedge between them. "I'm so sorry, Nehmat," he murmured, his voice choked with regret. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I couldn't see past my own pain."

Nehmat leaned into his touch, her anger giving way to a sense of longing. "I know," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "But we can't change the past. All we can do is learn from it and try to move forward."

Shubman nodded, a flicker of hope igniting within him. "I want to make things right, Nehmat," he vowed, his eyes searching hers with determination. "I want to earn back your trust and prove to you that I'm not the man I once was."

Nehmat locked eyes with Shubman, a sceptical expression on her face as she pulled back slightly. "Hold on," she interjected, her tone laced with incredulity. "What I mean is, whoever you love now, please trust them. And also, it won't be me."

Shubman's brows furrowed in confusion, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Then what are we doing now?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration.

Nehmat met his gaze steadily, her expression resolute. "Closure," she answered simply, her voice firm.

Shubman's jaw tightened as he struggled to process her words. "Closure?" he repeated, the bitterness of the word tasting like ash on his tongue. "After everything we've been through, that's all you want?"

Nehmat met his gaze with fire in her eyes. "You've been in a relationship with my sister, and to what extent, I don't know," she said firmly. "So I can't just let you in."

Shubman felt the urge to defend himself, to clarify the truth of his relationship with Meera. "I have never done a thing with her if that's what you're thinking. Not even a kiss, ever," he almost yelled out, his voice tinged with desperation.

Nehmat gulped, her eyes searching his intensely. Moving closer to his face, she asked in a hushed tone, "Will you be able to wait until I find the time is right?"

Shubman leaned in, their lips almost touching, and whispered in the quiet of the night, "Always."