“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.
“I’m serious, Tina,” the guest said, unaware of the maelstrom of emotions whipping between them. “It was chilling.”
“I’m sure it was.” She forced the words out as her chest squeezed her lungs. It hurt to breathe. To stand tall when she wanted to fold into a heap. “I’m sorry,” Tina said to their guest as she pressed her hand against her head. “But my jet lag is getting worse.”
“You should lie down,” Dev said. “I’ll come with you.”