Vivek Swamirami #6

Plans and Conversations:

The golden morning light streamed softly through the gauzy curtains of the ashram suite, casting a gentle glow over the room. Birds chirped faintly in the distance, their songs blending with the rustle of the trees outside. The serenity of the scene was broken only by the quiet buzz of a phone vibrating on the nightstand.

Vivek stirred first, his senses slowly returning as he reached out for the phone. Still cocooned in Egon’s arms, he managed to slide it free from the cluttered surface without waking him. The screen displayed a missed call and voicemail notification from Gaye Tusk.

“Of course,” Vivek murmured under his breath, his lips quirking into a wry smile. He sat up slightly, careful not to disturb Egon, whose head rested heavily on his chest.

Pressing play on the voicemail, he listened, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to quiet concern as Gaye’s unmistakable tone filled the room:

“Vivek, darling, it’s Gaye. Lillian and I will be arriving in India shortly. I expect Egon to meet with her. Privately. One hour, no interruptions. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll agree.

“And by the way,” she added with the kind of smooth menace only Gaye could muster, “I had lunch with three of the board members yesterday. Lovely conversation. I assured them everything is under control. Be sure Egon understands what that means.”

Vivek ended the playback and let out a long sigh, leaning back against the pillows. His free hand idly stroked Egon’s hair, his thoughts already racing. Gaye’s words, though polite on the surface, were as much a command as a request. And the mention of the board? A thinly veiled threat.

For a moment, Vivek considered letting Egon sleep a little longer. He looked down at him—Egon’s features were soft in sleep, the tension that so often lined his face nowhere to be found. There was something heartbreakingly vulnerable about him like this, as though the weight of the world had finally lifted, if only for a while.

But he knew that peace wouldn’t last. Not with Gaye Tusk involved.

“Egon,” Vivek whispered, his voice low and soothing. “Wake up, love.”

Egon stirred, his brow furrowing slightly as he shifted closer to Vivek, his arms tightening instinctively around his waist. “Mmm... five more minutes,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“Come on,” Vivek said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Egon’s forehead. “Your mother called.”

That got Egon’s attention. His eyes blinked open, glassy with sleep, as he looked up at Vivek. “My mother?” he asked, his voice tinged with both irritation and dread. “What does she want now?”

Vivek hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “She and Lillian are coming to India. She wants you to meet with Lillian. Privately. For an hour.”

Egon groaned, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t do it.”

“Egon...”

“No, Vivek!” Egon snapped, sitting up suddenly. “I can’t! Not after what I said to her. I called her Woke. I said she was infected with some... some mind virus. How do I face her after that?”

Vivek reached for Egon’s hand, holding it firmly. “You face her because you’ve changed. Because you’re starting to understand what Woke really means. You said it yourself—it’s about love, compassion, justice. Isn’t that what you’ve been rediscovering through your faith?”

Egon’s eyes filled with tears, his voice trembling. “What if she doesn’t believe me? What if she thinks it’s all an act?”

“She’s coming all this way, Egon,” Vivek said softly. “That means something. She wants to see you, to hear you. And if you’ve truly grown, if you’ve truly started to GROK what it means to love others as Jesus taught, then this is your chance to show her.”

Egon’s breath hitched, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I don’t know if I can do it. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I hurt her again?”

Vivek shifted closer, wrapping his arms around Egon and pulling him into a tight embrace. “You’re not the same man who said those things, Egon. And you won’t be doing this alone. I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

Egon buried his face in Vivek’s shoulder, his tears flowing freely now. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I’m so scared, Vivek.”

“I know,” Vivek whispered, his own tears falling as he held Egon tighter. “But you’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone.”

For a long time, they stayed like that, holding each other as the weight of Egon’s fears spilled out in sobs. Finally, Egon’s breathing began to slow, the exhaustion of his emotions pulling him back toward sleep.

As he drifted off, he murmured, “I don’t deserve you.”

Vivek kissed his forehead, his tears wetting Egon’s hair. “You deserve love, Egon. And I’ll never stop loving you.”

He watched as Egon’s face softened in sleep once more, a faint trace of peace returning to his features. Wiping his own tears, Vivek settled back against the pillows, one arm still wrapped protectively around Egon.

As the morning light filled the room, Vivek allowed himself to cry quietly, overwhelmed by the depth of his love for Egon and the hope that this meeting with Lillian could be the first step toward healing.

“I love you,” he whispered again, his voice trembling. “And I’ll always be here for you.”