No Escape from Love

by Reet Singh

  Aalok turned away and sloshed some of the whiskey out of the too-full glass. Damn! His checkbook ...

  Setting the glass down on a part of the desk that was relatively paper-free, he swabbed at the spillage with the sleeve of his dressing gown. The checkbook seemed fine, but a thin stream of the golden liquid was trickling off the edge of the desk. Strangely distressed at the thought of it getting into the drawer and damaging the prints, he dragged the drawer open and rescued the Tejopur photographs. They were dry but he didn't put them back.

  Drink forgotten, he slouched back to his couch and shuffled through the prints. About midway through the collection, it hit him and he wished he'd left the darn things locked up in the drawer. His problem was not with the scenes that he had clicked - it was that they reminded him of the ones that he hadn't captured. He didn't have a single picture of Mohini, or of Ria - not even one of their darn cat, Tiger.

  And that distressed him because? He didn't dare dwell on that.

  What he could comment on was that it wasn't very nice of Mohini to hang on to his SIM. He'd half expected her to mail it to her brother and ask for it to be delivered to the rightful owner. He'd not bothered to get another one in the interim, until this afternoon, when Sikander had got the old SIM blocked and bought him a new phone and a new SIM.

  It hadn't been bad, actually, living without a cell phone. He'd been free - unanchored. The land line had worked fine for the occasional phone calls he needed to make; and Sikander always knew where to find him. So, no, all that had been very good and dandy, but the speed with which Mohini seemed to have put him out of her mind was not flattering.

  He couldn't blame her if she had. He'd been pretty loathsomely rude to her their last evening together. Interfering and giving advice when she hadn't wanted it. Pompous of him. She'd been so mad - he wouldn't be surprised if she'd gone and fed the SIM to her cat. He chuckled. She was perfectly capable of doing it.

  God! He did miss her, didn't he?

  He hoped to hell that he didn't. That this low feeling was just a virus. What he did miss was his drink. Aalok lurched to his feet and fetched himself another glass. God only knew what he'd done with the original one.

  Why did his mind keep drifting to Mohini? He didn't want to think of her, or of any other woman for that matter. His unreasonable spasms of anger scared him. His possessiveness scared him.

  He'd read about it. Extensively. People like his father hurt the people they loved. It was a thing, a disease. It was bigger than them and difficult to control. Violence ran in families in some cases.

  He remembered his violent anger at the hapless Shamsher Singh. That had been all out of proportion, hadn't it? Someday he'd raise his hand on a woman he cared for. Another day on his children. He thought of Ria, and he blanched. He couldn't do this. He had to stop thinking of Mohini.

  Aalok desperately wanted to talk to his mother. He'd not spoken to her in while. He needed to ask her some tough questions. Reaching for his new cellphone, he stopped to consider the time - would she be awake?

  It was only eight o'clock. Not quite dinner time yet at home. He punched in his mother's number but got somebody else. He hadn’t synced the damn phone yet, although he’d had it for some hours now.

  He tried keying in the number again, more carefully this time. She picked it up on the second ring. She always did. He could depend on her.

  'Ma? How are you?' He spoke slowly and deliberately to avoid slurring his words. He didn't want to catch a lecture on the perils of alcohol.

  She responded with an upbeat account of herself and of his sisters. Great. 'Listen, Ma? I wanted to ask you something. What was he like when you first met him? Before you two got married?' He never referred to his father directly. He couldn't bring himself to call him dad and his mother knew that.

  'Aalok? Are you all right, son?'

  'Yes, Ma. Tell me about him. About before you married him.'

  'He was a charmer. I was smitten. You know the rest'

  Aalok's heart sank. He was a charmer, too. Ask any of the women he'd been out with.

  'So, obviously you couldn't tell, could you, that he'd turn out to be a rotten bastard?'

  'Aalok, you are nothing like your father. Do you hear me? Nothing at all like him.'

  'I don't know, Ma.'

  'But I do know,' she all but shouted down the line. 'I know you. He was controlling right from the beginning, only his charm blinded me to it then. You are a whole different person, darling. Please believe me.'

  He wanted to. He couldn't speak for a while.

  'Aalok?'

  'Yes, I'm here, Ma.'

  'Is it about that girl, Mohini?'

  Aalok nearly fell off the couch. 'What? How do you know about her?' His mother was astute but she wasn't clairvoyant.

  'Lata called. She thinks you're suffering from unrequited love or some such thing.'

  'What? How did Maxi even imagine that? I spoke to her for, like, five minutes.'

  'Don't call her Maxi, Aalok. She hates it. In any case, your sister is so close to you, she's practically your twin. She can read you like a book. This won't be the first time she's done that.'

  'I know.' Darn! It was unnerving. He couldn't even remember the conversation he'd had with his sister. He might have mentioned Mohini a couple of times. Maybe talked about Ria once. She read him from that? By god, she was brilliant.

  'So, is it about Mohini?' his mother asked.

  'Maybe,' Aalok hedged.

  'She has a little girl, I believe.’

  ‘She does. What of it?’ He frowned.

  ‘Just that when there’s a child in the picture … you have to think a lot harder about everything.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking of nothing else since I got back.’ He clenched his eyes shut.

  ‘Well then, Aalok, I promise you this - you are not your father and you never will be. You had a rocky start but that's behind you now. You're a wonderful human being and I'm not saying this because I'm your mother. Ask anyone.'

  Aalok laughed, a dry, half-disbelieving laugh.

  'I'll never forgive you, son, if you give up on yourself. If this girl's the one, go get her.'

  'I'll see what I can do, Ma. I love you, you do know that, don't you?'

  'I love you, too, my darling.'

  Aalok set the phone down, then curled up on the couch and went to sleep.

  §§§

  He woke at noon, horrified that he'd slept through the meeting he was supposed to have had. Why hadn't Sikander called to remind him?

  He calmed down very fast. They could always schedule another meeting. No big deal. It couldn't have been very important if he couldn't even remember whom he was to have met. His tailor? His chartered accountant? It was horribly unprofessional of him but he didn't care.

  His step wasn't exactly jaunty, but his feet didn't drag either as he headed to the kitchen. On the way there he caught sight of a glass half full of whiskey. He ignored it. He didn't need a drink. He needed food and he absolutely had to bathe. He smelled rank.

  Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Aalok hurried through breakfast. He had plans that involved traveling to far off places and the sooner he started the better. It occurred to him that Mohini might bung a spanner into the works by refusing to have anything to do with him. Well, he'd cross that hurdle when he came to it, although his heart sank just a little at the possibility.

  Nineteen

  Aalok was pulling on his socks when his phone rang. He hobbled towards it when the doorbell sounded, causing some consternation. It never rains but it pours, he grumbled, giving up on the second sock, picking up the phone, and heading for the front door, in that order.

  It was Sikander on the phone, calling to remind him about the meeting tomorrow. Tomorrow not today! Damn. It was of no consequence now, since he didn't expect he'd be back from Tejopur so soon. 'Listen, Sikander, we'll have to reschedule. I'm going out of town unexpectedly.'

  He'd reached the front door by then, and he opened it as
he was speaking. 'Who are we meeting, by the way, Sikander? I can't seem to remember.'

  Aalok had no idea what the other man said. He stood there completely stupefied, the phone suspended in mid air, while his visitor hopped from one foot to the other.

  'Can I come in?' Mohini had to ask, her voice uncharacteristically subdued and surprisingly wobbly.

  'Sure,' Aalok stuttered, hanging up on Sikander and moving out of the way. Mohini preceded him into his cluttered lounge and he winced. The house was a mess. Bad start. Bad start.

  But why was she here?

  She turned to face him and spoke very quickly. 'I know this must seem weird to you, but I...' She hesitated, her face pink. 'I asked Ritvik to give me your address. He thought I should call first, but we didn't have your phone number.'

  'No, no. It's perfectly all right,' he said, feeling like an idiot in his one sock. He shuffled his feet hoping she hadn't noticed.

  'Which reminds me...' She opened her fist and held her palm out towards him.

  Aalok was baffled and felt more than a little deflated. 'Did you come here to return my SIM?'

  He didn't dare to pick it off her palm. He was scared that if he touched her, he might want to pull her into his arms.

  'Well, yes. I'm sorry I didn't give it to you when you left that night. Your departure was very precipitous, if you remember.'

  He groaned inwardly. 'Yeah. That was stupid. I apologize if I ...'

  'Don't. We were both stupid. I said some mean things.' She shrugged.

  She was near his study table, and she placed the SIM very carefully down on a coaster. 'So!' she said, with a brittleness that lanced his heart. 'This is where you live, is it? Um, it's not bad.'

  'That's the biggest, fattest lie I’ve ever heard,' he retorted, hoping to lighten her mood. 'This is a pigsty. It's not like this usually. I've been very busy.'

  Very busy thinking of you, he wanted to say, but it wasn't the right time. He had to know why she was here.

  'Why don't you sit down?' he offered, picking up the comforter from the couch.

  'Thanks,' she said, so formal that it hurt.

  'Um, would you like some tea? Coffee?'

  'No, no, I'm fine. This won't take long.'

  His heart flipped and sank into his size-twelve feet.

  He perched on a poof across from her and waited for the skittles to fall. 'Go on,' he said, trying to sound as though nothing mattered.

  'Aalok?' she asked, her hands twisting in her lap although her gaze was focused on him. 'Why did you block your SIM?'

  'My SIM?'

  Of all the topics he'd thought she might bring up, this hadn't been on the list. 'I ... er... it seemed like the thing to do. I waited a month ...'

  She looked away. 'I see. When the computerized voice said 'this number does not exist', I ... it frightened me.'

  'You called me?'

  She nodded.

  'But you had the SIM. Why would you call?' It didn't make sense just yet, but he felt hopeful for some reason.

  'I know. It was stupid.' She turned back to him.

  He didn't speak, afraid that she'd bolt. As it was, she was precariously perched on the edge of the couch.

  'This is difficult for me,' she muttered, and he had no doubt that it was. She was opening up and talking about her feelings - a first for her.

  'Do you live alone?'

  He had to strain to catch her question. Another unexpected one. 'Of course,' he said. 'Surely you know that I'm single?'

  'Well, you do have an awful lot of women calling you at all times of day and night. It's only natural for me to wonder.'

  'I'm single, Mohini. No current girlfriends. No current lovers.'

  Wasn't that the truth!

  Mohini turned pink again. 'I get the picture,' she snapped, and it thrilled him to see the spark back in her attitude.

  This was getting very interesting indeed.

  She fidgeted some more. 'You can ask me to leave any time you want. If you have to be someplace else ...'

  He wasn't going anywhere. He was where he needed to be, but this was painfully slow. Time to speed things up a bit. Time to bell the cat. 'Why are you here, Mohini?'

  She glared at his bossy tone. 'You told me to be honest. Do you remember?’

  He nodded. 'So?'

  'So ... I think I’d like to see if what we have – what we had between us - ‘ She waved a hand at him and stuttered to a stop.

  She was looking at him in some anxiety but he kept his expression impassive, giving nothing away, and she quickly added, ‘But only if you want to, I mean....'

  ‘Mohini, I have no idea what you just said.’ His heart lifted, but he needed to hear it again. Was Mohini propositioning him?

  She swallowed. ‘If you have no current girlfriend, I was wondering if you’d like to take up from where we left off in Tejopur.’ She said it all in one breath then slumped back into the cushions.

  ‘We left off in great bitterness, if I remember. I was furious with you and you didn’t want to have anything to do with me.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Mohini said, looking adorably dismayed. ‘Well then, we could dial it back to an earlier time if you like.’

  ‘You’ll have to be very specific,’ Aalok insisted, ‘about what time you are referring to.’

  ‘The morning of the day you left.’

  ‘What time, precisely? Before your mother arrived or after she left?’

  ‘You’re being very difficult.’

  Aalok smirked. ‘I know. I just want to be very sure we’re on the same page here. I’ve been burned before.’

  Mohini snorted. ‘It’s very unlike you to be so insecure. Where’s all the swagger and bravado you displayed in Tejopur?’

  Aalok laughed. ‘I left it there. I’m a shell of my former self.’

  ‘You’re not,’ Mohini frowned. ‘You look fabulous. I mean...’ She flushed. ‘Are you done teasing? I am trying to have a serious conversation here. I ... I have missed you and I want you to know that I am open to … er … open to exploring all options.’

  ‘We can’t explore any options with you sitting half a room away, Mohini.’

  Mohini gaped. ‘Are you saying …?’

  ‘Come here, you maddening creature!’

  Tossing away the comforter she’d been pleating and re-pleating, Mohini flew across the room and into his arms.

  ‘That’s more like it,’ Aalok whispered, and then said nothing at all as their lips met in a searing kiss that set his body afire.

  Later, when they stopped to draw breath, he murmured, ‘I’ve missed you, too.’

  'Oh, I don’t know. I really can’t tell,' Mohini challenged.

  Aalok grinned, then picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Depositing her on his rumpled bedsheets, he began to undress her, kissing each inch that he uncovered and thrilling in the sounds of pleasure that burst out of her.

  She moaned his name out loud, coming alive in his arms. When her hot gaze tangled with his blazing one, he tore off his own clothes, hardly caring that the shirt was a newish one, and had cost a pretty penny.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said again, whispering the words against her skin as his lips nuzzled their way from naval to breast. Mohini inhaled sharply, reacting to his touch, and her body arched against him.

  He was lost - lost to everything but the touch and sight and smell of the woman in his bed.

  There was no way he could hold out against her magic, although he tried desperately to prolong their love making. Mohini didn't seem to appreciate his fortitude, testing it repeatedly by moving against him in the throes of passion. It was more than he could withstand, and he gave in to the clamor of an urgent, powerful, undeniable rhythm that claimed her first, and them him.

  Stunned, wide-eyed, they collapsed, entwined and barely able to catch their breaths - their embrace defying anatomical possibility.

  'I can't believe I let you go that day,' Mohini finally murmured, kissing him with the gentlest
of lips. She rolled over on top and buried her face in his neck.

  Aalok held her to him with one arm, and used his feet to nudge the covers over to where he could pull them over their now-cooling bodies.

  'I was coming to get you,' he breathed into the top of her head. 'Today. I was two minutes away from getting into my car when you turned up.'