Secrets of a Bollywood Marriage. Susanna CarrЧитать онлайн книгу.
was such a shame,” Prisha said, her insincerity shining through her eyes as she moved closer. “I couldn’t believe you had miscarried so late in your pregnancy.”
“It was a painful time for both of us,” Tina said brokenly. She wanted to get away but she couldn’t move her feet. She needed to change the subject but fragmented images flickered through her mind.
“Did the doctors figure out what went wrong?” Khushi asked.
Tina closed her eyes. She knew she would have to deal with these questions, but she wasn’t prepared to share those dark moments with anyone. “No,” she croaked.
Prisha gave a sympathetic pat on her shoulder. “I’m sure next time you’ll be more careful.”
Tina gasped as the pain radiated through her. She jerked away and glared at Prisha, hating how the other woman’s eyes glittered triumphantly. How did she know that the guilt and confusion swirled around her mind at night? That she continued to question what she could have done differently to save her baby?
“She’s just offering advice,” Khushi said as she held her hands up in surrender. “You’ll need to get pregnant again soon if you want to stay married to Dev.”
Get pregnant? No, never again. She’d made that decision months ago and it broke her heart to think she wouldn’t be a mother. But she refused to take another risk. She couldn’t relive the fear and hopelessness. The devastation. It was a matter of survival.
Tina swiped the tip of her tongue over her lips as she struggled to maintain her composure. “What are you trying to say?”
“What everyone else is,” Khushi said with a sly smile before she strolled away, arm in arm with Prisha. “That the only reason Dev married you was because you were carrying the Arjun heir.”
Tina refused to watch the women leave. She stared straight ahead, the party a blur, as the anger bubbled up inside her. She had no comeback or argument. She had nothing to defend herself with because the women spoke the truth.
Tina remembered the moment she had told Dev she was pregnant. She had been uncertain how he would respond. She’d known the baby was going to change the course of his life but she hadn’t expected the excitement to leap in his eyes. His wide smile and fierce embrace had told her everything she’d needed to know. His immediate marriage proposal was more than she could have ever hoped.
He was a better actor than she gave him credit for.
But no one thought she had deserved the marriage proposal. Moviegoers were furious, believing the seductress should never get the hero. Her colleagues didn’t think a girl from the slums was worthy of the Arjun name. There was a hierarchy in the Hindi film industry and she had broken the rules when she’d married Dev. Some reporters and bloggers had gone so far as to suggest she’d got what she deserved when she miscarried.
She jumped, her memories scattering, when Dev thrust a tall glass of mango juice in her hands. “You look pale,” he said with a frown.
“It’s from the jet lag.” She didn’t want him to know how fragile she felt. Couldn’t, not unless she wanted him to step all over her for the next few months. “If I’d had a chance to put on some makeup and—”
“Tina!” She turned to see Dev’s best friend stretch out his arms before he greeted her with a hug. “Where the hell have you been?”
“It’s good to see you, too, Nikhil.” And she meant it. Ordinarily, she would not have anything in common with a man like Nikhil Khanna. Born into a Bollywood dynasty, Nikhil was rich, educated and had a flair for writing screenplays. Her family had no connections and she had not finished school, yet they had quickly become friends.
“It’s been too long.” Nikhil held her gaze and she saw the serious glint in his eyes. “Your husband missed you.”
Her stomach curled with fear. How much did Nikhil know? Did Dev confide in his friend? “And you didn’t?” she asked lightly.
Nikhil gave a dramatic sigh. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
Dev brushed his friend’s hand off her. “Watch it, Nikhil.”
Tina glanced up at Dev. She hadn’t heard her husband use that tone with Nikhil before. She was surprised at the possessiveness etched in Dev’s harsh features. Tina gave a cautious look at Nikhil.
The other man didn’t seem to mind as he rolled his eyes. “Now you can deal with Dev’s bad temper and late-night rants against the world.”
“Dev?” That didn’t make sense. Her husband was known for his charisma and charm.
“Like I said, your husband missed you.” Nikhil reached for her untouched drink and set it down on a nearby table. “Let’s dance.”
Dance? Horror snaked inside her. “No, no.” She took a step away and bumped into Dev’s solid body. “Not tonight.”
“How can you say that?” Nikhil said over the upbeat music. “You were born to dance.”
She had heard that many times throughout the years. Dancing had been her escape and her creative outlet. She was constantly aware of the music around her and had to express it through movement. Dev had once said that he thought she couldn’t go through a day without dancing.
And then suddenly her body betrayed her. Failed her. Her senses had shut down. She couldn’t move. Didn’t feel the music inside her. It was as if her mind blocked it all out. She hadn’t danced since the loss of her son.
“The only person she’s going to dance with is me,” Dev announced as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “But first she needs to greet a few of our guests.”
Tina gave an apologetic glance to her friend as Dev dragged her away. Within minutes, her face was stiff from forcing a smile as she met with the guests. They all were part of the Hindi film industry but they were not her colleagues. Once they had been her inspiration as she watched their movies and read about them in the magazines. Now she wished she had never met them in real life. They were nothing like the heroes and heroines they played.
“Why are you friends with these people?” Tina asked as Dev escorted her to another room. She had fielded questions about her absence but no one had really missed her. They were more curious than concerned.
“Only a few of them are friends,” Dev admitted, giving a nod of acknowledgment to an actor as they kept walking. “Most of our guests want something from me, and they wouldn’t hesitate to stab me in the back the first chance they get.”
“Then why invite them into your home?” she muttered.
“Our home, jaan,” he gently corrected as his fingers tightened against her waist. “This time it’s because we have completed filming.”
She frowned. She should’ve known that Dev would have immediately returned to work as if nothing had happened between them. “What project?”
His grip tightened painfully. Was it her imagination or was there a hunted look in Dev’s eyes?
“It was a modern retelling of Majnu and Laila,” he said tersely.
She was surprised he had chosen to do a romantic movie, especially one that followed the classic Persian love story. A romance that was more tragic than Romeo and Juliet with a poor man falling in love with a rich girl. They were forbidden to see each other and Majnu was driven mad with love. Driven mad by Laila.
“You should have seen his performance, Tina.” One of the inebriated guests interrupted, looping his arms around Dev’s shoulders. “It was stunning. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. The grief! The pain! You could see him descend into madness.”
Madness. Her breath lodged in her throat as she stared at Dev. She jerked out of his hold as if his touch burned her. She knew all about grief and madness. She had been surrounded by it. At times she thought it had engulfed her.