The Accidental Wife

by Simi K. Rao

  “Don’t think too much, Dad. It’s bad for your health,” Rihaan said grinning suddenly. He walked up to Shashank and put an arm around his shoulder. “It’s time to savor the toxic waste our dear wives have together concocted for us, don’t you think?”

  An hour or so later, Rihaan paced back and forth across the living room floor. His father yawned, not the least under the influence of the high carb Indian meal he’d just overindulged in. “Relax, and sit down for god’s sake.”

  “You aren’t leaving?” Rihaan asked.

  “Well…we are as soon as…” Shashank started.

  “No, we are not,” his mother said, emerging from the bedroom after a prolonged tete-a-tete with her daughter-in-law. She shook her head. “Rihu, my baby, I can always trust you to be polite. But your wife, she wants us to stay as it’s late. And I’m tired and so is your dad.”

  “She would never…” Rihaan began then stopped short. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. But you both have to make do with just one narrow bed.”

  “Oh no. We are sleeping here in your living room!” she replied beaming. “I’ve always wanted to sleep on a couch and your dad has fallen in love with your recliner. And we’ll be out of here at the crack of dawn. You won’t even know we’ve left.”

  Rihaan didn’t argue any more but walked into the bedroom and closed the door softly behind him. Going up to the window, he held the curtain aside and waited. Sure enough, about five minutes later, a cab drew up in front of the building, uploaded his parents, and drove away.

  Yet he didn’t leave the room. Something was holding him back.

  On the bed he could make out his wife’s slight form even in the faint light. She was sleeping peacefully…or was she?

  Not pausing another moment, he slid in beside her. Laying his head down on the velvet blanket of her hair, he spooned himself alongside her back, torso to torso, hip to hip, leg to leg.

  He willed himself to hush his heart that all of a sudden had embarked on a mad joyride. Something vibrated annoyingly at his belt. His fingers reached automatically to silence it. Yet the turbulence didn’t seem to disturb her at all. She lay still apparently at peace.

  He traced the side of her body with the tips of his fingers and sensed her stiffen, then relax again, as he continued undeterred. It was like gently stroking the strings of a guitar, the pleasure defying definition. Feeling more reckless, he fondled the contour of her hip, easing over to the flat plain of her midriff, before mapping the satin of her shoulder with his lips. Desire reared its head like a beast roused from slumber. He wanted her more than anything. He nuzzled into the soft warmth of her neck.

  Turn over my lovely lady, turn over please? Let me take you to a place you’ve never been to.

  A loud jarring clamor jolted him nearly out of his skin.

  He stared dumbly at the source—his cell phone that lay discarded on the nightstand. What in hell was going on?

  He grabbed it and rushed into the living room, shaking with irritation, angry at himself for having succumbed to his preoccupation.

  “What is it?” he snapped, then listened with mounting incredulity to the voice on the other end as it delivered an urgent message from the hospital.

  ***

  Naina lay on the bed, staring at the same spot on the ceiling, for a long time after she heard the front door close trying to overcome an acute sense of disappointment. She had so wanted him to hold her close and make love to her. And why not? They were both lonely and frustrated. After the kiss on New Year’s Eve; that spontaneous, spur of the moment, Happy New Year kiss which had lingered a lot longer than it should have, leaving her breathless and aching for more. Ever since, their conversations had become stilted, consisting of monosyllables and prolonged awkward pauses; looks and heartbeats conveying a lot more than words. While striving to keep each other at arm’s length, they’d also found excuses to bump into each other and savor the sensations of if only…

  Her train of thought was suddenly disrupted by a shrill siren wail which didn’t die down but echoed over and over again, steadily increasing in volume. Clamping her hands over her ears, she ran to the window and was witness to a scene like none she’d ever seen. The entire city’s emergency resources had been summoned and they were choking the streets in droves, advancing like a raucous, unruly army headed off to war.

  What was happening?

  ***

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I cannot let you in. We are in a lockdown,” the burly cop, standing guard outside one of New York’s busiest hospitals, reiterated sternly to Naina, who to him probably just looked like an agitated young Indian woman. Still, she didn’t budge.

  “But I’m Dr. Mehta’s wife. I know he’s here. I need to see him,” she said peering over his shoulder. Then as soon as she saw the doors slide open, she dodged around the man and barged into the ER.

  The place resembled a mini war zone.

  “Dr. Rihaan Mehta?” Naina asked a passing attendant.

  With a flick of his head, he gestured to the double doors behind him.

  “Ma’am, you aren’t allowed here!” The tough cop had followed her in.

  Just then, she spotted a familiar tall figure emerge from one of the rooms and tear off his bloodied surgical shield mask in an expression of exasperation.

  “Rihaan!” she cried.

  He looked flabbergasted. “Naina! Who let you in?” He glared at the cop.

  “Sorry, doc. We couldn’t stop the lady. She insists that she’s your wife,” the cop said.

  “So she is…” Rihaan’s gaze shifted to Naina, most likely taking in her disheveled appearance. And she could see it did nothing to ease his temper. “How did you find me?”

  She drew the edges of her robe tightly around herself. “Your answering service. They told me. Are you all right? I heard in the news about the massive subway accident and a possible terror threat. I got worried.”

  “Of course I’m fine. As for this…” he said, indicating to his blood spattered surgical gown “…it belongs to the poor wretch who bled out on the table.”

  The sliding doors slammed open and a group of emergency personnel escorting a gurney barreled toward them. Rihaan pushed Naina against a wall but wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way himself.

  She held his arm as his jaw clenched in pain. “Rihaan, sit down. Can we please get some help here?” she called out.

  He shrugged her off. “I don’t need any help. I can take care of myself. This little mishap wouldn’t have occurred, had it not been for you, distracting me like always and getting in my way.”

  Naina stepped back, clearly bewildered.

  “Officer! Kindly have my wife escorted back home. We are done here.” Rihaan instructed the cop as to the address and walked away without another glance in her direction.

  “This way, ma’am.”

  Naina gave the cop a blank stare, then quietly followed him outside.

  ‘Freedom’

  Rihaan was running on adrenalin, doing procedures back-to-back, until one of his colleagues forced him to go home.

  When he arrived, he found Naina packing. “Are you going on a trip somewhere?” he asked curiously. She seemed agitated which he thought was unusual for her.

  “No. I’m leaving, as in moving out,” she said, continuing to cram clothes into a large suitcase.

  “Why, if I may ask?”

  She glanced at him, and it only served to agitate her further. “I’ve overstayed my welcome,” she snapped.

  “If it’s because of what I said last night, then I’m sorry. Don’t take it personally. I was just…”

  “…venting in a stressful situation?” she retorted.

  “Yes,” he said, unable to conjure up anything better.

  She smiled, but the expression didn’t meet her eyes. “You weren’t. You meant ev
ery word you said. And by doing so you woke me up from a deep sleep. Thank you.”

  “I don’t understand. I woke you up?”

  “Yes, woke me up, and at the right time too. You’d made it quite clear in the beginning that we were in a sort of business relationship. It was just me, foolish me, who began to read more into it. I shouldn’t have. This arrangement won’t work anymore,” she said looking cool and serene.

  “Tell me why not?” he demanded, not thrilled at the image she painted of him.

  ***

  “Because I don’t want to get attached to something that doesn’t belong to me. Got it?” she said, her voice trembling, as she fought to keep her tears in check. She succeeded narrowly.

  He didn’t respond.

  Naina could see that her words had thrown him off completely, as if he’d had no hint whatsoever. How dumb could he be? She nearly felt sorry for him. He had the same ‘lost puppy’ look in his beautiful eyes, the one that had proven to be her undoing, landing her in this painful situation in the first place. No, she wouldn’t, couldn’t allow herself to be hurt again. Regarding him calmly, she said, “If you’re concerned about your family finding out, don’t worry. Your mother has my number and she knows to call me first for anything and everything. It’ll be just like before and no one need be the wiser. But we can’t continue living together here.”

  “But where will you stay? You can’t afford a place of your own,” he interjected.

  “Someone at work has offered to share their pad with me…it’s not here, maybe an hour or so away. But it’ll do fine, I think.”

  “Then please let me help. I can ask around,” he said, not giving up. “I’m sure we can find you someplace more convenient.”

  “No. I will not accept any more of your help. I don’t want to impose on you any more than I have already.” She dismissed his offer with a firmness he couldn’t contest. “Au revoir Rihaan.”

  ***

  Hands thrust deep in his pockets, he looked on as she struggled with her bags, politely refusing any help. She was right. It was a perfect arrangement. She had provided him with an easy way out—a godsend, no less! But why wasn’t he elated?

  He watched her leave in a cab from the window, just as he had his parents the night before. He snapped the curtains closed in a gesture of finality, then marching into the bedroom, dove straight into bed and closed his eyes.

  I’m free. Yes, I’m finally free!

  Always on my Mind

  But freedom can be a mean bitch and Rihaan discovered it the hard way.

  The evening after Naina left he found himself on the phone, calling the apartment and letting it ring till his own voice informed him curtly that no one was home. Yet the reason why this futile exercise was repeated the following evening and the evening after that, he was at a loss to answer. Maybe it was his subconscious wanting to hear her voice, having not yet reconciled to her absence? He pressed his temples hard with his fingertips. Psychology had never been his forte.

  But that was just the start. His subconscious proved obstinately tenacious. Mornings and weekends had him retracing the routes they’d taken together—the neighborhood shortcuts, the surreal vistas of Central Park, the idle rambles through city streets and mellow sips amidst imposing corridors of power—nothing felt the same.

  He stopped for lunch at one of the street vendors and ordered what Naina usually did, not realizing he’d done so until he bit into the wrap and was overwhelmed by a burst of delicious flavors. So this is what made them different—his drab, cold winter to her bright, warm spring. He quit the routine altogether.

  He tried making upma—a way of showing how self-sufficient and capable he was. But the whole thing came out a soggy mess.

  Upon returning to the apartment one day, he found a bag on the coffee table with a large box inside, along with a note from her. It said she’d been out shopping with his mother who had presented her with the gift:

  She meant it for her daughter-in-law.

  There’s no way I could accept it.

  He opened the box and removed from it an exquisite Banaras silk sari. Naina was being callous. She was reminding him of the folly he had knowingly committed. Reminding him of the day they had first met, when she had sat beside him during the wedding ceremony. When he had lifted her veil, and discovered the betrayal, and she had confronted him with an open face, without an iota of treachery in her large eyes. She had given him every opportunity to walk away. But he had spurned it, instead had gone ahead and tied the knot. That one telling moment had sealed his fate forever. He had willingly admitted her as a permanent part of his life, doing so with all his faculties intact, and then intently had chosen to blame her for it all. He’d been a coward and a rat. The disquiet and confusion he’d been experiencing all along was due to him working hard at refuting the very same fact. Accept it, Rihaan, accept it! You are as bad as she is…worse!

  He laid down on the bed and pulled the sheet over his head, ashamed. There was no sleep for him that night.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, Anna added insult to the injury, when she chanced upon him finishing a hasty lunch in the hospital cafeteria. She held him by the arm as he made his way toward the stairwell.

  “Dr Mehta, you look a fright! You need a holiday bad. A nice little vacation with your wife, somewhere far away and warm like the Caribbean or maybe even Costa Rica should do you some good. What do you think?”

  He swung around and fixed her with a glare so ferocious that she stepped back. “Don’t talk to me about her. You can do whatever you wish with your life but please spare me unsolicited advice.”

  He plunged headlong into his work and transformed into someone cold, robotic and distant. The kind, caring doc had vanished replaced by a man who was stripped of all emotion.

  But he was unable to sustain himself as before. Naina was plaguing his thoughts constantly. He offered to take extra calls, so to spend all day at work and avoid going home. He survived by chugging down boatloads of caffeine and sucking on ice. He drove himself to exhaustion, yet averted sleep at all costs, because when he did lie down, he dreamed of her.

  This went on, he had no idea how long, until one day he was summoned by the department head, Dr. Esmeralda Rivers. He approached her office with trepidation, wondering what was in store for him. Dr. Rivers was a woman who had shown her mettle by holding her own in a mostly male-dominated discipline for over twenty-five odd years. Her slight figure and unassuming ways belied nerves of steel and a fiery temper. She had been known to make not only her residents but also her colleagues squirm in their seats. Therefore, when she spoke, you listened.

  But the tone of voice with which she addressed Rihaan was decidedly maternal. She took a slow turn around her peaceful oasis decorated in traditional zen style, while he fought to keep his eyes open. “I love coming by reports of doctors who are devoted to their profession, but not to such an extent that they are found nodding off in the elevator! Really is it that bad, Dr. Mehta? I didn’t think so,” she said turning toward him. She didn’t look amused. “By your actions, you’re not only endangering yourself but also your patients.”

  Her grey eyes softened. “Life isn’t easy, then why do we try to make it even harder? Ask me. After three bitter divorces I should know. It’s an achievement I’m not proud of.”

  Rihaan looked down at his hands, feeling restless and uncomfortable.

  She patted him on the shoulder. “The mantra for success and happiness does not reside within these four walls. I think you know what I mean.” Rihaan glanced up and was surprised to see her smiling. “C’mon son, bite the bullet and mend your fences. You won’t regret it.”

  Won’t I?

  Shrugging the doubt away, he exited Dr. Rivera’s office and made a beeline for home, where, after a quick shower, he changed into clean street clothes, and took the cab to Naina’s place of work. He had to se
e her. He was tottering on the edge of a nervous breakdown and she was the only one who could prevent it. All he needed was a glimpse. Maybe that’d be enough to tell him what he needed to know and release him from this insane obsession that he finally admitted he had. Even though it happened to be in direct contradiction to all his goals and beliefs.

  Yet once he reached his destination, he found his enthusiasm faltering. He couldn’t muster the courage to confront her. What could he say? How was he going to apologize for his abominable behavior?

  As he stood debating his next move in front of a large bank of elevators, he felt someone jog his arm.

  “Hello there, we meet again!”

  He turned to see a tall, blonde, amazon-like woman who looked vaguely familiar. “I’m sorry, but I can’t place you.”

  She didn’t appear to take offense. “Yes. We weren’t introduced, as you were in such a hurry when you came and took Naina away. We met right here, in this very building at the Soup Spot. I’m Maria, her colleague.” She grinned broadly and extended her hand. “And who are you? I’ve tried asking Naina, but she’s always putting me off with some excuse or other. Are you a relative, a brother perhaps?” Her grey-blue eyes were bright with expectation.

  So Naina wants nothing to do with me. Can’t blame her, thought Rihaan, as he returned Maria’s greeting. “No, I’m Rihaan Mehta, her husband.”

  The woman’s face fell. “Oh… I’m so sorry, but Naina has never let on that she was attached in any way. For that matter, she doesn’t speak much about things other than work.” She broke into a friendly smile, “Do you want to see her? I can call to see if she’s around. She’s been so busy lately, volunteering for all kinds of assignments, coming in early and leaving late so she can turn them in on time. But you should know that.”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” he said. And when he saw her baffled expression, he tried to come up with an explanation that didn’t sound ludicrous. “We fought over something petty. She moved out without leaving a forwarding address. The fault was entirely mine and I want to apologize.”