The police left and Aditi rushed to the bathroom to retch her heart out. It felt like the baby was wringing her innards. So far it had behaved but today it had changed its mood. Maybe it too was protesting its incorrigible father.

"You were not my first choice, neither the second..." the words hammered her brain as she tottered around, tripping over her own feet. She never knew he thought so less of her. She had never known she was so low on his ranking list.

A weird numbness descended her heart as she gathered her belongings and took a taxi to the airport. Large, flashy electronic displays announced flights leaving Dallas – to London, Paris, Rome, to hundreds of other places. She watched with longing, like a child in a gingerbread house, like a sick man at a banquet table. It was incredible how all those places could be reached from here. How amazing it was that some people in this world had the liberty to choose whichever destination they pleased.

Sighing, she booked the first flight to Delhi. Thirty-six hours later, she was home. It was nearly afternoon, and as was usual for this time of the day, the house was eerily silent. Mohit was at the hospital site, her uncle and aunt at their latest jaunt. Dadaji was in his room, sleeping, as he was wont to do these days. And Nehal - she didn't know where Nehal was, not that she cared.

She stalked to her room and whipped her phone out to call Zorawar. It was time again to enlist his help. The last time, after the bridge incident, Dadaji had warned him to stay off her but she knew he would never defy her .

"Any questions? " She asked briskly, after explaining to him what she needed done. As usual he'd listened without interrupting. "You understood what needs to be done, right?"

"Yes, Aditi Di. But are you sure?" Zorawar stuttered hesitantly. "You are married to Darsh Sir after all. Isn't it... a bit too late for all this?"

"Darsh Sir was a mistake," Aditi snapped in irritation. "That marriage was a sham. If I remember correctly, you too were against it. You tried to warn me, you had sent me his folder but by then it was too late. Anyway, what I couldn't do then, I'll do it now. It's never too late to right a wrong."

"But...I never..." Zorawar tried to interrupt but she was too far gone to hear anything. Dismissing him summarily, she called Uncle Dawar. She had an important job for him too.

*****

Darsh spent the next few days in a dinghy cell of a Dallas police station. It was a corner cell, at the end of a corridor where hardly anyone ventured. Twice a day, someone came to slide a plate of food through a flap. That was all the human contact he was allowed.

He was thankful for the seclusion; he needed it to get his act together. He still could not believe what he had done, that he had actually landed here of all places.

Life wasn't fair, especially his life. For seven long years, he had sleepwalked through it without knowing his destination. And now that he had found it, he had hardly taken two minutes to lose it. He couldn't believe it. He could not believe his stupidity, nor could he believe her audacity. Where he was dreaming of joining his princess in her warm bed, with his arms wrapped around her luscious body, tasting, inhaling, seducing her. And here he was, sitting in this cold, hard cell, stewing in his own juices. How easily she had turned the tables on him. How easily she had shown him what it means to lose freedom.

A smile tugged at his lips despite himself. It only confirmed how perfectly they were matched – he and his princess. Same arrogance, anger, same razor-sharp wit, and thoughtless mind. They could argue for hours about who was more argumentative. They could spar for days about who was more stubborn. Impulsiveness was their second nature, and when it came to passion, they were equal. The only difference was in their morals. If she was his better half, he was definitely worse. She thrived in the bright sun, whereas he preferred to lurk in the shadows.

He shook his head as he sat against the cold steel wall dreaming about his wildcat. Hours passed, then days. He didn't know how long he was going to be here. The charge of unlawful intrusion was serious but not serious enough if no one was there to follow it through. And he knew she would not follow it through. If she wanted him punished, she would have charged him with assault. Cheating, fraud, bullying, mental and physical harassment, his list was long. But she had chosen the most harmless one, and that gave him hope.

A dry snort escaped his lips. Shameless, he was, there was no other word. But then he couldn't afford to be anything else. If that was what it took to stay hopeful, that was what he would do. The price otherwise was too steep – his wife, his child, his entire world.

His heart thudded as he shot to his feet and knocked on his cell door for what felt like the tenth time that day.

"Anyone here? Let me out! I need to make a call. Don't you know it's unlawful to keep someone shut without access to lawyer? I'll sue you for this..."

Nobody heard him, no one replied. It was as if he was shouting into a void. Sighing he sat down and slumped against the wall. It was the fifth day when Steve finally came to bail him out, but by then, his patience had worn thin.

"You took your time." He gave Steve a scathing welcome. Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Be thankful I am here. It's not my job to rescue errant clients from prison."

"Then let's talk about the job I pay you for." Darsh pursed his lips. "Tell me where she is. Did you meet her? Is she okay? Did she... say anything about me?"

Steve gave him a disdainful look. "No, no, and no. I called her, but she refused to meet. She was obviously not okay. She left her apartment the same day. And I didn't think it right to follow her after that."

"Oh really! May I know the reason?" Darsh seethed. What did he mean he didn't follow her? It was his job; he paid the man for it, dammit!

"The reason being, Aditi is not just my quarry, she is my friend too. And friends deserve some respect. But maybe it's too much for you to comprehend, so I'll leave it at that."

Whatever! His jaw locked as he left Steve on the pavement and hailed a taxi. Within half an hour, he reached the airport when his phone rang.

"Rajeev. How are you?" He asked in surprise. "Everything okay?"

"How am I? let me ask you - where are you?" Rajeev screeched. "I have been trying to call you for ages. Where the hell are you?" Darsh frowned.

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"Calm down Rajeev. I am away for some work. What's the matter?"

"You should ask that question to your wife." Rajeev almost cried. "I knew your marriage was doomed from the day one, Darsh, but I didn't know it will take down my business with it. Remember, you too are a partner in this business and if I go down, I'll take you down with me."

What the hell?

"Will you please stop blabbering and tell me what's happened? I know I haven't been paying much attention to work lately but that's not going to ruin the business. There are others to help you. And what has Aditi got to do with it? She is not even there."

"Of course, she is not here," Rajeev seethed as his voice reached the highest octet. "Because she is in Palampur as we speak. And guess what? She is gone berserk. She has cancelled all our projects, given notice to our workers. Some are threatening to sue me, some are going to the papers. Go see for yourself and then we will talk. But I am warning you, Darsh. Whatever this feud between you and your wife, sort it out ASAP. If I lose so much as a penny in this, I promise you will pay with your life."

*****

It was late afternoon when Darsh arrived in Palampur. The village looked as idyllic and peaceful as he remembered, but he knew it was only an illusion. For the past twenty-four hours, he had received innumerable calls, not just from Rajeev, but everyone else. His employees at the hospital site had called, the engineers at the resort site had complained and the workers at the water-bottling plant up the mountain were worried to death. They had come here on his guarantee. He had to intervene, or they would have to consider legal action.

He reached the Sharma residence and sprinted straight up the stairs to the circular room at the top. Pushing the door, he walked in. There she was, sitting upon the railing of her balcony, swinging her legs like a child. The sleeves of her paper-thin smock flapped into the autumn wind as she stared into the distance. The bite in the cold air brought him shivers but she was unfazed.

A blind panic shot across his heart. If he remembered correctly, it was a hundred feet from there to the ground. The only thing supporting her was the narrow railing and a few overgrown vines, otherwise, a gust of wind would have blown her over.

He held his heart and walked closer to grab her arm from behind.

"What do you think are you doing? Get down right now! Do you know how dangerous this is?"

She turned and he fell silent. She looked like a reanimated corpse - cold, bloodless, feral. Swinging her legs over the railing, she skittered down to the floor. Her lips stretched in a smile that scared the shit out of him.

"Don't worry, I am not going to jump. I just like the heights. I love to sit there, near my Ma's vines. It's my favourite pastime since I was a child." Her pupils dilated as if she was gazing at someone from another world. He swallowed and rushed to the nearby cupboard to find something warm.

"Come here." He threw the dressing gown over her shoulders and walked her in. He made her sit on the bed, then poured her a glass of water. She drank like a good girl, slowly, without taking her eyes of him. For the first time in his life, he felt awkward.

"So. When did the police let you go?" She asked, as if inquiring about the weather. He sighed.

"Yesterday. I came immediately."

She hummed and leaned back in her pillows, keeping her eyes steady on him. He stood like a prisoner. If anyone's gaze could be arresting, it was hers. He didn't know where to look. He didn't know what to say.

He waited for her to start. She didn't bother. Minutes trickled by in silence as he shuffled on his feet.

"You know why I am here, right?"

"For your projects." She smiled. "Did they call you to complain about me?"

He watched her quietly. That was part of the reason, but not the main part. The main reason was now side-lined, and the projects had taken the centre stage. Trust this wilful woman to complicate the matters, he had lost the game before he even started.

"They called me to beg." He squared his shoulders and looked her in her eye. "These are their jobs, Aditi. Their livelihood. They have families, children. You cannot just snatch it away like this."

"Can't I?" She looked disappointed. He frowned.

"No, you can't. You must reverse your orders. Tell the villagers to remove the pickets. Tell Zorawar to remove his men. There is no need of goons in Palampur when..."

"When you and your men are around?" She finished his sentence as she watched calmly. He exhaled.

"Aditi please. The projects must go on. This fight is between the two of us. Let's sort it out ourselves. Don't drag the poor workers into it."

"You dragged my family into it. You threatened me with their lives."

"It was a mistake." He sighed. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I was out of my mind, jetlagged. And then you would just not listen. You were so stubborn, so headstrong...so so..." He stopped himself in time as her brow started arching. For some reason, his heart was incredibly heavy. His impulsive mind told him to move forward, claim what was his. His need was desperate. He was always desperate. His mind, body, and now heart, too, was craving. This woman, her body, her child, everything was his and yet he was here, begging. Damn the adamant woman, damn her stupid, obdurate head. But then what would she be without her spirit? A mere shell, which he will never let her be. She had loved him for what he was, now it was his turn.

His fists clenched as he tried to calm his mind and let out a deep breath. "What I mean is - can we not just forget it and move on? I'm willing to make up... No, I am dying to make it up to you. Please, give me a chance!" His desperation seeped into his voice, and some of it, to his chagrin, into his eyes. How he would love her, if only she let him. How he would cherish her if only she let go of the past.

She didn't even notice.

"Dying!" she cackled. "Do you want to die for me? Fine then. Go jump out of that terrace and your wish will be fulfilled. Let's see how true you are." She watched eagerly if he would actually make a move to the terrace, then rolled her eyes when he didn't. He stared dumb faced, his feet laden. Today was clearly not his day.

"Typical. So, as you have no plans of dying, you can take your leave. I am bored, and very hungry." She rang a bell for a maid, who scurried in readily as if she was waiting outside. He watched as a table was laid for his wife, with sandwiches, milkshake, and strawberries. He watched her, deflated, as she got up from the bed and began eating.

"What do you think will Dadaji say? Have you thought about that?"

"Dadaji is okay with it," she selected a particularly juicy strawberry from the bowl, then began munching. "You see, we have had reports - of mismanagement, misbehaviour and misappropriation of funds. Why, just this past Saturday, there was a brawl in the village. Some of your workers got drunk and misbehaved with some women. We cannot let it pass just because you are my husband. We have a responsibility to the village, and Dadaji agrees."

He looked at her, stunned. This was all so convoluted, false, yet he had to admit, he was impressed. She had learnt from the best. He himself had given her the lessons. "Aditi please. You know these are all false claims. I know my people. They are professionals. Yes, there could be one or two incidents, but surely we can sort them out amicably. It doesn't mean they should lose their jobs Aditi, they have families, financial obligations..."

She waved her hand away as if swatting a fly. His blood boiled - at her arrogance, at his helpless desperation, and most of all, at the impossibly tricky situation.

"I know why you are doing this, but it will never happen." It took her total indifference to bring him to the point. His frown deepened as his face took an ugly shade of puce.

She raised her brow. "Oh?"

"Don't 'Oh' me, Aditi. If you think I'll break the marriage for the sake of the workers, you are wrong. You cannot blackmail me. It doesn't work like that with me." His hands went into his pockets as he planted his feet apart, taking his stance. Her spoon clattered to her plate as she stood up, wiping her hands on a napkin.

"We'll see about that, Darsh. Meanwhile, enjoy your time here as my husband. Because soon you shall lose that privilege and I can't wait to kick you out of my village and my life."

He seethed as she smiled and left the room. She did not return for the night. He did not see her the next day, as he was told she left for a camp in the mountains. She hadn't said where she was going, just took Aron and left. He waited with his heart in his mouth. This woman, and her tricks! He never knew he was so susceptible.

Meanwhile, Palampur burned. Some of his hot-headed workers clashed with some equally rowdy villagers. Arrests were made, cases were filed. His sites came to a grinding halt. News leaked to the papers and Rajeev called again, this time practically crying. Darsh knew it was over. He was trumped in his own game by his own queen.

***** *****