I DIDN’T MARRY YOU SWARA….EPISODE 23 LAST EPISODE

Hi
It was the oddest thing. Despite how Sanskar didn’t measure up as a husband, despite
how he was so incredibly deficient, Swara missed him. She missed him something awful.
There were days she was so far gone she wanted to go back to him.
Oh, she was in bad shape. She wasn’t the strong, assertive woman she’d wanted to
become. On the contrary, it took every ounce of will power Swara possessed to resist
doing something stupid.

The girls wanted to make the crumb cake for her again. Swara thanked them, but
declined. “He wasn’t a crumb,” she told them. She repeated the sentiment to her friend
Valerie, as they sat at a bar table drinking Perriers in the casino after work-out that day.

Dark-haired and exotic, Valerie pursed her lips and appeared doubtful.
Swara drummed her fingers on the marble table top, thinking how to put it. “He wasn’t
bad, just wounded. Too wounded.”
“Funny. You look like the wounded one.”
Swara shook her head and laughed without humor. “I’ll bet Sanskar is looking a heck of a
lot worse than I am.”
“Well, I certainly hope so,” Valerie replied with a huff.
Swara blinked. I don’t.

Valerie leaned over the little table. Her dark-eyed gaze got suspicious. “Have you
seen a lawyer yet, Swara?”
A lawyer? Swara thought. What for? Then she realized: the divorce. “I will,” she said,
feeling her cheeks flush. “Just give me some time, all right?”
Valerie shook her head. “Hopeless. Swara, you’re hopeless.”
“Hey. I left him, didn’t I?”
“In body,” Valerie sighed. “But not in soul.”
Swara didn’t have anything to say to that. It was too true. On the one hand, she knew
she’d done the right thing. The marriage would never work. But on the other hand, she
couldn’t get past the feeling they belonged together. Oh, it was crazy.

She came home from practice and her conversation with Valerie feeling more tired
and sore than usual. Despite trying to keep in shape while she’d been gone, it had been hell
getting back to the physical demands of her profession. At least the thermometer hadn’t hit
one hundred today. Amazing for July. Swara went straight from her front door to the
bathroom and turned on the water full hot. The apartment’s air-conditioning was actually
working today and she needed a good soak.

She’d stripped and was just stepping into the tub when the doorbell rang.
Swara closed her eyes. She’d ignore it. Probably just a salesman. But when the
doorbell rang again, Swara sighed, took her toe out of the deliciously hot water, and
reached for her robe. If she wanted to be able to relax in the tub, she was going to have to
answer the door to get rid of the guy.
Opening the front door with a pleasant rejection on her lips, Swara stopped dead. On
her doorstep stood Dp, with a sulky-looking Sahil lounging beside him.
Dp was smiling double-time. “Swara, my dear, you are indeed a sight for sore eyes.”

Swara shut her eyes. But when she opened them again the pair was still there. Dp still
wore his wide smile but Swara thought the charm was getting a little ragged around the
edges. Sahil regarded her suspiciously. Swara could only stand there, her heart beating
way too fast, and wonder what was going on.
“May we come in?” Dp asked.
Swara’s heart was still racing madly but her brain did kick in. This had nothing to do
with Sanskar. He would never have asked his father to do anything, much less to come to see
Swara, his not-yet-ex-wife. Whatever this was, it was unrelated to her marriage.
She took in a breath and stepped back from the door. “Come on in.”

Dp exhibited a moment of bald relief and waltzed through. Sahil gave Swara a
narrow-eyed look and followed after.
“So.” Swara closed the door and turned. “To what do I owe the honor?”
Dp lost no time in making himself comfortable on Swara’s floral sofa. Her question,
however, seemed to leave him nonplussed. “Mmm. Sahil?” he offered.
But Sahil only hunched his shoulders and stalked to the corner, where he began to
stare at a print of some wild ponies.
Dp turned back to Swara. He appeared to consider his answer. “Well,” he finally said,

“we called the estate, quite discreetly you understand, looking for you. We heard you
were here, having left Sanskar — don’t blame you a bit, my dear — and, hmm… Well we
thought you wouldn’t mind taking care of Sahil for a while.” Dp held up a hand and
spoke quickly. “I’m not dumping him, all right? He wanted to come here.”
In his corner, Sahil snorted.
Swara crossed her arms over her chest. She was beginning to get the picture. Dp was
here to get rid of Sahil, and he thought she was a soft touch. One side of her mouth
lifted. “Bit off more than you could chew, eh?”
Dp’s gaze averted. “He drove off Marisa and even the boat captain. What was I
supposed to do?”
Swara bit the inside of her cheek. She could easily see Sahil doing that, especially if
Dp had been neglecting him. Oh, she was going to get mad if Dp had been too awful.
Stop, sang a voice in her head. This isn’t your problem! But Swara was excruciatingly

aware of Sahil tensed in the corner. She was his friend, if nothing more. She had
promised him that much. “I would love for Sahil to stay here,” she said, perfectly sincere.
“I’ve been missing him, but why don’t you take him home to Sanskar?”
Dp looked amazed. “And admit I couldn’t handle it?”
Swara raised her brows.
“All right.” Dp winced. “I’m a coward but you said you’d take him, so I’ll just — ”
He stood up.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Swara stopped Dp with an upraised hand. “You aren’t going
anywhere without checking if this is all right with Sanskar.”
Dp blinked in alarm. “Sanskar? What does he have to do with it?”
“You know darn well what he has to do with it. And I’m not taking Sahil unless
Sanskar knows about it, and approves.”
“Oh, all right.” Dp sighed, disgruntled. “You can call him.”
“Me?” Swara’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”
Dp went puppyish. “But you could — ”
“No.”
In his corner, Sahil snorted again.

Swara turned to look at him. “What?”
Sahil hunched his shoulders higher and stared with more intensity at the wild ponies.
“You can’t even talk to him.”
Swara’s nostrils flared. “And why should I talk to him? You were the one who kept
bugging me, kept telling me he ought to say he loved me. Well, he didn’t. He didn’t!”
Sahil turned to point at her. “You didn’t wait the whole two months!”
“One week more? It wouldn’t have made any difference — ”
“Oh, yeah? Well — ”
The argument was interrupted by the sound, once again, of the doorbell.
“Who is that?” Dp wanted to know.
Swara shrugged. “Given my day so far, it could be anybody.” Angry now, she strode
to the front door and swung it wide. Her mouth was open to tell off whoever stood there.

Sanskar stood there. Beautiful, sober-faced, suit, tie, and everything. Swara couldn’t close
her opened mouth. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. No, her mind told
herself. He couldn’t be here. He hadn’t sent Dp and Sahil, so he had no reason to be
here. And was that a bruise on his jaw?

Sanskar’s gaze was completely unfathomable. Then he looked past Swara and his
expression changed dramatically. “What are you doing here?”
Swara heard Dp’s drawl. “Same thing you are, no doubt. Begging.”
Sanskar’s gaze switched back to Swara. For an instant she thought she
saw…acknowledgment? Then the mask came down again.
“Excuse me.” Sanskar shifted past Swara and let himself into her apartment. “You are

leaving,” he told his father. “Now.”
“Hey, wait a minute.” Swara turned on her doorstep. Sanskar had just walked in, and
intended to clear everyone else out. Panic banged in her chest. She didn’t want to think
about why her husband might be here, or what he’d have to talk to her about — alone.
“This is my home. I’ll decide who leaves or stays.”
Sanskar whirled on her. “But we have to talk.”
Was that so? With the panic banging harder, Swara set her hands on her hips. “So
happens Dp and I have to talk, too.”
Sanskar’s gaze went incredulous. “What could you and Dp possibly have to talk
about?”
“Me.” Sahil stepped forward from his corner. “They’re arguing over who has to take
care of me.”

Swara saw Sanskar’s jaw drop. “You?”
“That’s not what we’re talking about,” Swara said quickly.
“Is so,” Sahil argued.
“Actually,” Dp weighed in. “We were talking about who had to tell Sanskar you were

here. That’s a much different subject.”
“Sounds the same to me,” Sahil sniffed.
“Wait,” Sanskar said.
“We were not arguing over who had to tell Sanskar,” Swara spoke to Dp. “That was
decided.”
“Oh? Then what did the two of us have to talk about?” Dp sounded interested.
“Wait,” Sanskar said again, louder.
“I don’t know what,” Swara told Dp. “But I’m sure it was something. And you got
here first.”
Dp looked pleased. Sanskar shouted louder, “Wait!”
His voice reverberated against Swara’s peach-colored walls. For a moment there was
silence. Then Sanskar slit his eyes toward his father. He spoke low, but clearly. “I don’t know
what kind of trouble you’re here to stir up, but I give you fair warning, I won’t allow it.”
Dp puffed himself up. “I’m sure I don’t have any idea what you mean.”
“It’s not as if Dad knew you were coming,” Sahil told Sanskar, adopting his own
lecturing tone. “Come to think of it, what are you doing here?”
“Yes,” Dp wanted to know, too. “Why are you here?”

Sanskar looked at Swara. Her heart was too high in her throat for her to say anything, but
she was asking the question hardest of all. What was he doing here? The marriage was
over. He’d told her so. And she’d agreed. Swara swallowed. This had to be about their
divorce.
“There’s something — I’d really like to talk to you,” Sanskar said softly. “Couldn’t we
speak alone?”
Swara tried to breathe. No. She didn’t want to discuss a divorce. She didn’t want that
to be what he’d come all the way across the country to discuss. “No, I — No,” she said.
Dp snorted. “There. What does that tell you, son? She doesn’t want to be alone with
you.”

Swara lifted her chin. Dp was right, but for the wrong reasons. “Whatever you have
to say,” she told Sanskar, “can be said right here and now.”
Sanskar’s accusing look nearly killed Swara, but she wasn’t going to budge. If he really
wanted to end everything, permanently, she didn’t want to take it alone.
His jaw tightened. “You’re making this extremely difficult.”
“I — I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be.”
Sanskar’s lashes lowered. “I see.” Then he raised his eyes again. His lips firmed. “Fine. If
this is the way you want it.”
Swara straightened. “It is.”

“Go ahead,” Dp sighed. “Get it over with, already.”
Sanskar shot his father a fulminating look, then turned back to Swara. “All right. I’ll say
it. I want you to come home.”
A moment of intense silence followed this pronouncement. Swara felt her heart stop
right in her chest. He wanted her to come home. It was the last thing she’d expected him
to say.
Sanskar turned red but he barreled on. “I want you to come home with me. It — it
makes sense. You know it does. We’re married. We made vows. We — we get along.
There is no reason — ” Sanskar’s eyes narrowed. “No reason we shouldn’t be together.”
Swara still couldn’t breathe. Not a divorce. He didn’t want to talk about separation. He
wanted her back! She felt a moment of supreme elation.
Then Dp started to laugh. “You want her back?” Sanskar glared daggers at the man
but Dp went on. “Because you get along? Because it’s reasonable?”
“Yes,” Sanskar retorted, a hiss.
Dp laughed again. “As a beg, son, that hardly cuts it.”
Though her heart was still racing, Swara felt brought up short. Dp was right. Sanskar
wanted her to come home…because it was reasonable? Where was love in this equation?

Where was trust? Oh, he hadn’t changed, not one little whit. And she hadn’t changed,
either. She’d been so impressed she’d nearly fallen right into his stubborn arms. Swara
narrowed her eyes. “You tell me,” she asked Sanskar. “Is that it?”
Sanskar’s blue eyes were nearly black as he stared at her. “You need something more?”
Swara stared back at him. Inside she was shaking. She wanted to tell him, ‘No, I don’t
need a thing more, only you.’ She wanted to feel his arms, strong and sure, around her.

But her brain was whirling. She had to withstand the temptation.
Didn’t she?
She had to stand up for what she deserved, which was something other than what
Sanskar offered her.
Wasn’t it?
Suddenly the determination that had defined Sanskar’s face stripped away. The
expression left was raw anguish. “Forget it,” he muttered. “I never should have — ” He
shook his head and turned away, making for the door.
The door. Swara’s body jerked in reaction. Wait! She didn’t want him to go. At least
that’s what her heart was shouting.
She felt herself stiffen into immobility, for she was supposed to doubt her heart,
wasn’t she?
Before Swara could decide what she should or shouldn’t do, Sanskar was out the door.
He was gone.
“Booted him,” Dp said, and gave a low whistle. “Wish I knew how to do that.”
###
Sanskar rushed down the stairs of Swara’s third-story walk-up and ran right past his
rental car parked on the street. He wanted to get away, as far and as fast as possible.
Stupid. He was an idiot. And a coward. The minute he’d seen Swara — and then his
father — every well-rehearsed speech had gone flying out the window. He’d simply been
overcome by all he wanted. All he needed. Come home. How more brutish could he have
gotten?

Already breathing hard, Sanskar started to run. He felt a pressure increasing in his chest,
choking up his throat. He’d botched it. His one chance and he’d thoroughly botched it. He
could still see Dp smirking at him. And Swara, her face so…disappointed.
And why shouldn’t she have been disappointed? He hadn’t told her anything
important.

Sanskar ran until he was out of breath. On a street corner under a giant plastic donut, he
bent over, gasping for air and hating himself.
Then he heard her voice. It was way down the sidewalk. “Sanskar!” She sounded
breathless but determined.
At first, still bent over, he didn’t believe his senses. It couldn’t be Swara. That would
mean she’d come running after him and she wouldn’t have done that, not after his terrible performance in her apartment.
“Sanskar!” somebody shouted again, and this time she was much closer. Skeptical, Sanskar straightened. Disbelieving, he turned.

Ten feet down the deserted sidewalk from him Swara stumbled to a stop. She was still
in her bathrobe, her hair was wild, and there was a crazy look in her eyes. She was
panting.
No, Sanskar thought. But there she was right in front of him. Beautiful, sweet, and
unattainable. He felt his throat work but nothing came out.
She didn’t say anything, either, just looked at him. All of Sanskar’s wishes, all his desires,
his everything, was standing there in the person of this woman. He thought he was going
to explode if somebody didn’t say something. “How are you?” he finally managed to croak
out.

Swara looked incredulous. “What?”
“How are you?” Sanskar took a deep breath. “That’s what I really came out here to find
out. I know I hurt you two weeks ago. I — I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Swara’s eyes widened.
Sanskar saw her surprise and a ragged laugh escaped him. “Kind of hard to believe, huh?
I — I guess I didn’t leave you with the impression I cared.” His voice lowered. “But I
do.”
Swara continued to stare at him. Her disbelief launched another arrow into Sanskar’s
already aching heart. He felt that organ twist with all he’d never told her, all he’d been too
afraid to admit, even to himself.

Well, if ever there was a second chance this was it. Sanskar closed his eyes and drew in
a deep breath. “I care, Swara. I really care. I…love you. That’s it. Love. Just — love.
That’s how I feel.” He gave another whispery laugh and opened his eyes.
Swara was staring at him in a way that made Sanskar’s heart sink. He’d failed, once again.
Then she launched herself at him. It was too fast for Sanskar to do anything but gasp,
clutch her close, and try to keep them both from landing on the pavement.
“Oh, Sanskar. Sanskar, Sanskar, Sanskar.” She rained kisses all over him; eyebrows, nose and

both cheeks.
Sanskar crushed her gently. Her warm, lithe body was actually in his arms. How was this possible?
“You said it.” She squeezed him tightly. “You actually said it.”
It took Sanskar a second to understand what she meant. Meanwhile he didn’t dare let go.
“Oh,” he said. “Did you like that?”
Swara pulled back to stare at him. “Did I like it?!”
Sanskar felt his face turn warm. “I guess what I mean is, love is a feeling and, well,
feelings, they’re not very reliable, are they?”
Swara gazed at him round-eyed. “You think feelings aren’t reliable?”
Sanskar had to look away. “Well, mine are…”
“Sanskar.” She turned his chin so he had to look at her. “My feelings are reliable, too.

And I love you. I do.”
Sanskar felt a very strange pressure, deep in his throat. She loved him. He hadn’t known
how…big it would feel to hear the words. Or how hard it would be to believe them. “But
— you left,” he tried to disagree.
Swara’s lashes dropped. “I did. Because you couldn’t hear that. You weren’t believing
it.”

He hadn’t. He wasn’t. How could she love him — forever?
Swara raised her eyes. “You still don’t believe me.”
Alarm flashed through him, but she suddenly grinned. “All right. I guess you’re just
going to have to do the experiment and find out.”
“The experiment?”
She hugged him gently around the neck. “Take me home and find out if my feelings
last. It’s a long experiment. Might take forty or fifty years, but eventually you’ll get your
answer.”

Sanskar knew he was staring at her. He’d let her down, but she was just smiling at him,
so beautiful, so generous, so…loving. He tried, and failed, to swallow. “You’re…coming
home with me?”
She tapped his chin. “How else can I prove my feelings are forever?”
“Swara — ” Then Sanskar couldn’t say any more. He pressed his face into the curve of
her neck. He hadn’t driven her off? Amazing. On her waist, his hands trembled. “I’ll do
anything, anything, to make this work,” he vowed.

“Oh, Sanskar.” He could feel her stroking his hair. “All you have to do is be yourself. I
love you just the way you are.”
Sanskar went very still. The words echoed in his brain. Oh, he could almost…remember
them. That’s right, standing in the hot desert air, next to a building with a huge wooden
yellow sun tacked to it, and Swara. Oh, Swara looking up at him with her clear, sincere
eyes.

Slowly, Sanskar drew back from their close embrace. He looked down into her face. She
blinked up at him, quizzical. In that moment he understood. Oh, the memory blew away,
ethereal as smoke, but the understanding remained. Her words, the sentiment — it was
what had driven him to follow Troy’s hypnotic suggestion in the first place. It — this —

was what he’d wanted. Not wild s*x, not an irresponsible alliance, but this: the love of a
good woman.
“Oh,” Sanskar said. “Oh.” It was so absurdly simple. So…rational. He started to laugh.
“What?” Swara demanded. “What?”
Sanskar felt emotions swell up in his chest. Humor, understanding, need. And love.
That’s what it was all about, wasn’t it? Love.
“What?” Swara asked again.
Sanskar made a low noise in his throat. “This,” he said, and lowered his head. Swara’s lips
felt like coming home. Well, a combination of coming home and flying to the moon. Sanskar
drew in a sharp breath and moved in closer, exulting when Swara pressed back. Oh yes.
She, like he, wanted a perfect union.
For a long time they stood there, trying to forge that union with their mouths. Finally,
reluctantly, Sanskar pulled back.

Swara made a protesting noise, but Sanskar set her apart, resolute. “I’m not done — My
speech,” he panted out.
“Your speech?” Swara looked dazed.
Sanskar laughed a little. “On the way over I had a few hours to put one together.”
“Mm?” Swara was making a visible effort to clear her brain of the kiss.
Sanskar brushed a finger down her cheek. “I may actually be able to say it now.”
“Hm?” Swara blinked back to full awareness. “To say what?”
Sanskar sighed and shifted her in his arms. “Yeah, I may be able to say it, since I’m
trusting and taking chances here…” He slipped one hand into his inside jacket pocket. He
watched Swara closely as he pulled forth a red silk handkerchief. “You, uh, left this in my
office a couple months ago.”
Swara watched, frowning, as Sanskar unfolded the handkerchief. In the center was a
simple gold band. From the look that then crossed Swara’s face Sanskar was pretty sure she
remembered throwing it at him during their first meeting in his office.
He cleared his throat. “You know me, always wanting to cross the t’s and dot the i’s

brought it along thinking — ” His heart took a long, deep dive. “Well, thinking, Swara —
Will you marry me?”
She looked up from the ring to his face. “Oh, Sanskar.”
The expression on her face nearly blew him away, but Sanskar managed to remain
standing. Feeling both elated and terrified, he shrugged. “I know we already are married,
but I still don’t remember the ceremony and I’d really like to remember marrying you,
Swara.”

“Oh, Sanskar.”
He cleared his throat again. “Is that a ‘yes?'”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Sanskar struggled not to fall as she jumped onto him. Grinning madly, he decided he
could get used to this taking chances business.
###
They had the wedding at the Little Chapel of the Dawn again. This time, however,
Swara invited her friends. Sanskar had Troy fly out to be his best man. And there was a little
family confab beforehand.
Sanskar and Swara gathered all involved parties in her apartment the night before the
wedding. Even Felicia Thurgood attended, though her presence was a surprise, given that
she’d always been the arch-enemy of the man who’d brought her along, Sanskar’s cousin,
Troy.

But that evening Felicia and Troy, arm in arm, were beaming in the way that only a
couple in the beginning stages of a love affair can beam.
Sanskar took a look at the two of them, his expression somewhere between
astonishment and comprehension. “I knew something more was behind that check,” he
muttered, and gave Troy a slap on the back that made him stagger.

“Thought you did,” Troy grumbled, and looked about to slap Sanskar back — amiably,
of course — until Swara stepped between the two of them.
“It’s so good to see you two actually talking to each other…”
“As opposed to throwing punches,” Felicia finished, with a pointed look toward
Sanskar’s colorful jaw.
Sanskar massaged his jaw with a sheepish expression while Troy coughed into his fist,
just as sheepishly.
“Anyway,” Swara went on, linking an arm through Troy’s. “We’re glad you could come

— both of you.”
“Uh, that’s right,” Sanskar agreed, though he gave Felicia one more baffled look.
Swara mentally shook her head, thinking Sanskar should be the last one to question a
long-shot romance.
Eventually, everyone who’d come to the meeting found places in Swara’s apartment to
sit. Sanskar seated himself last, settling on the edge of Swara’s Lazy-Boy. He planted his
elbows on the chair arms, steepled his fingers, and looked straight at his father. “I want
responsibility for Sahil,” he announced.

Dp, who’d been lounging on Swara’s sofa with his arms along the top of it, shot up
his eyebrows. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re going to formalize what I already should have been doing. Sahil is
going to live with me. Permanently. And I’ll be the one to make decisions concerning
him.” Sanskar paused. “Including when you can whisk him off to Greece with you.”
Dp’s eyes got narrow. Sahil, meanwhile, looked stunned. “Why?” Dp asked.
Sanskar gave his father a direct stare. “Because, face it, you’re not much of a parent.”
Dp snorted. Sanskar ignored him and went on. “Unfortunately, I’ve been following
your example, refusing to take full responsibility. Well, I’m through being like you, or even

thinking I’m like you. I’m going to do what I want now.” His gaze went up to Swara,
standing by his side. She smiled back down at him. Their fingers met and laced.
Dp’s brows drew down. “And you want to take care of Sahil?”
Sanskar turned to Sahil. White-faced, Sahil stared back at him. To one side, Troy
raised his eyebrows.

“Yes,” Sanskar said.
Dp tapped his fingers on top of the sofa. “Well, I don’t know.”
“No more telegrams demanding you come home.” Sanskar’s attention switched back to
Dp. “You can do whatever you want.”

Dp’s eyes got even narrower. “Happens I like the telegrams.”
Sanskar blinked. Unhampered by surprise, Swara stepped in. “Fine. We’ll continue with
the obnoxious telegrams, sent at random intervals. We won’t forget you.”
Dp looked at Sanskar questioningly. Sanskar frowned, obviously confused, but he
nodded. “Yes,” he told Dp carefully. “We’ll stay in touch.”
Troy, nudged by Felicia, cleared his throat and offered, “Yes, Uncle Dp. We’ll keep
in touch.”
Dp’s gaze shot to Troy, then back to Sanskar. After a long moment he lifted his arms
from the sofa and stood. “You want Sahil? Fine. You got him.”

There was a beat of silence, then Sahil whooped, and ran to throw his arms around
Sanskar’s neck. Sanskar’s eyes went wide, but he hugged Sahil back.
Dp, looking distant, shrugged. “Well, I’m off. Who knows? I may even catch up
with Marisa.”
The next morning at the quaint little chapel with the big yellow sun tacked onto its
side, the wedding ceremony proceeded without a hitch. Completely done with his sulks,
Sahil was the ring bearer. Troy and Felicia, trading meaningful glances, played the part
of the attendants. Both bride and groom looked suitably besotted.

Upon being pronounced husband and wife, the groom kissed the bride with a warmth
and passion that convinced everyone present how deeply in love he was. As Sanskar led his
new bride down the aisle and toward the front door, however, a peculiar expression
crossed his face.
“What?” Swara asked.
Sanskar frowned and started to shake his head. Then he leaned down to whisper in her
ear. Swara immediately turned a bright shade of red. “You remember!” she accused.
“I do,” Sanskar admitted, looking rather pink in the face himself. “That much, anyway,
and only just this minute. But that’s beside the point. What do you say? Could we?”
Swara gave a quick glance to the side to make sure no one could hear them. “Fur-lined

handcuffs? What else do you remember?”
Sanskar got very close to her ear. “That we never got around to using them. But we will
this time, darling, we surely will.”
Swara could tell by his smile, confident now — maybe a wee bit too confident —
that, indeed, they would get around to using them ‘this time.’ She raised her brows, then
smiled and snuggled closer to his side. Sanskar might surprise her now and then, but he was
never going to be a stranger again. She knew just who he was now: the man who loved
her, really loved her.’’

Swara’s smile turned smug as they walked out onto the sun-filled sidewalk. Fur-lined
handcuffs, hm? She couldn’t wait to see what else he might remember.

The End

3 comments

  1. Mica

    |Registered Member

    is that so ? Sanskar never has experience with that feeling ? the LOVE feeling ? gooosshhh..
    but uogh, finally..they marry again, in full of consciousness and the love feeling..
    please Epilogue Janpa…. love it ty

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