She Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
Page 10
“Mmmm…oh…”
She was driving him nuts, gyrating her hips under him, and…
“Yes…oh…”
A vague sense that something was very wrong permeated his dulled brain and through the haze of his desire, he thought that perhaps she was too loud, too fervent…
“Oh, Dr. Simon!”
He froze.
Raising his head slowly, he looked into her face.
“Zoella…”
“Shhshh! You’re not supposed to talk. That spoils the illusion. Just go back to doing…”
He jumped off her as if he’d been burnt.
Zoella looked at him innocently, “What’s wrong? I’m sure I was…what was it again? Oh yeah, much more animated. Thanks for the tip. Thinking of Dr. Simon did help. Immensely.”
Fardeen wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh, or kill her. He tried to control his breathing and his pounding heart. His voice gruff, he tried to reason with her, “Look, Zoella I know I…I shouldn’t have…”
“I’m quite sure I didn’t ‘bore you half to death’. Do you think now I’m maybe worth a little more? Am I getting close to the million mark?”
All the joy he’d been feeling turned to dust in his mouth. Fardeen understood with absolute clarity that she was out of his reach. He’d hurt her too much.
“Hasn’t this gone on long enough, Zoella? Maybe you should try to forget a few carelessly spoken words and concentrate on the present.”
“Which careless words? What are you talking about? See, already forgotten.”
She gazed at him with total calm. No emotional outburst, no tears.
For the first time since he’d said those horrid words to her, he understood she’d turned into the antithesis of her old self. Despite being wounded by him, she’d been there in his hour of need, every step of the way. She hadn’t been mean or petty in any way. That was him. She wasn’t…
With a curse, he pulled her to him, aching for her. He said, “I’m sorry, Zoella. I hurt you, I know, and I’m so, so, sorry. Please, darling…sweetheart, can’t you just forget it?”
She extricated herself out of his arms and said in a dull voice, “Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t hurt me, because you can’t.”
Then she jerked her head towards the bed and said matter-of-factly, “So you want to get back to it? I’ll try very hard not to say his name out loud this time.”
Fardeen gave her a long inscrutable look and then he went out of the flat without another word.
ELEVEN
Homecoming was hectic.
Although Fardeen was still convalescing, his parents and other family members couldn’t be distracted from their overt and enthusiastic expressions of joy at seeing him so unblemished and handsome again. Fardeen had to resort to his most surly and grim looks to get them to stop from saying things that could make any self-respecting man blush.
“I am so happy. You can’t imagine what joy it gives me to see you like this again. My handsome boy!” His mother cried and he forced a smile.
“Son, you’re even better looking than I remembered,” gushed an aunt and Fardeen nodded politely.
“I’m back to being jealous,” Salaar piped and Fardeen looked disgusted.
“Zoella, I can’t thank you enough but now you must rest. I know Fardeen still has a lot of recuperating to do but I’ll take it from here. You look so tired and drained. You need your rest too.”
Ami hugged Zoella. A new wave of shame hit Fardeen squarely in the chest. He said moodily, “I’m tired. I want to sleep now. I don’t want to be disturbed. I’ll call if I need anything.”
Everyone filed out with assurances of ‘being here’ for him and their best wishes. Zoella trooped out with the rest of them. He thought of calling her back but stopped. Maybe she needed to get away from him. She had been like a silent specter, catering to his needs, taking his verbal outbursts, giving comfort and care the entire time. Towards the end of it though, there was no spark left in her eyes.
Things would change now that they were home. The biggest ordeal was behind them. He could be himself now. Zoella would be happy now that he was looking well again, wouldn’t she?
***
Soon, however, Fardeen realized that the distance between them wasn’t because of his sarcasm or meanness. It was a permanent state of affairs. Zoella had withdrawn into herself even more than before. She never even laughed now. Surprisingly, he really missed that annoying bright happy person she had been. He had felt better about himself as a scarred, bestial, half-man when he’d been with her than he did now. She couldn’t possibly blame him for behaving the way he had, he was hurt and in his twisted way, he’d wanted to inflict pain where he could and she’d been in the line of fire. She would understand and forgive, wouldn’t she?
He tried to seek forgiveness but Zoella had no intention of closing the distance between them. She refused to come anywhere near him, as if she was absolved of an irksome responsibility and was basking in her new found freedom. She’d taken to sleeping in the guest-room and apparently his parents’ not-so-subtle looks, and Salaar’s unfortunate jokes didn’t sway her enough to move back. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him. He was still too weak, more than he had realized. When at last he managed to climb down the stairs he found that she had gone to visit her family for a couple of days.
Coincidentally, he was sitting downstairs the day she came back home and he was a little shocked to see how pale and frail she looked. She bore no similarity to the girl with the sunny disposition she had once been.
“Zoella?”
He called out to her when she entered and without noticing him, started towards the guest bedroom that had been hers for the past two weeks now. Looking startled she stopped.
“Oh, hi, I didn’t see you.”
“Yes, I know. I noticed you haven’t been seeing me at all.”
She didn’t answer but looked at him with polite interest.
“How was everyone at home?”
Zoella nodded with a fake smile but didn’t answer.
Zoella had noticed and dismissed Fardeen’s hesitant attempts at friendliness. It was too little, too late. In any case, she’d hardened herself for the inevitable. He was well, and soon he’d have the love of his life back. She was used to being emotionally abused by her own family as well, so it didn’t seem out of the ordinary to her that Fardeen had done the same. She’d paid her debts as best as she could under the circumstances. She had nothing more to give nor was she willing to give any more.
She said, “Fine, all good, thanks. I…I’ll see you later.”
Zoella went straight to the guest room and lay down on the bed. Her visit back home had just confirmed what she already knew, what she’d known all her life. Her mother’s home was not an option if she wanted to leave Fardeen. Her mother had said so quite categorically. The merest of hints that she might want to stay there for a few days had given her mother hysterics. Zoella would have to look for something else. What and how was beyond her.
She was alone and completely on her own. Zoella had been forced to come to terms with this reality. Since her time abroad during Fardeen’s surgery, she’d been giving serious thought to leaving him. Being so near him and knowing she was nothing to him was still painful, despite her growing numbness from within. However, she needed to get her bearings and the first thing towards independence was to get a job. She had already lined up a few interviews. One of them seemed quite promising.
Someone knocked. Through the door, the maid chimed that her mother-in-law wanted to see her. Emotionally exhausted and physically tired, Zoella really didn’t want to see anyone, but she made herself get up and go.
“Zoella. You didn’t even come and meet me.”
Ami hugged her and breezed on, “I have some exciting news. Your friend is coming to stay for a while. I thought you’d like to know.”
Fardeen looked up from his newspaper and said smiling, “Swaba’s coming? That’ll be a nice break fo
r you, Zoella, you look quite exhausted.”
Zoella smiled, but it wasn’t like her old sunny smile but a shadow, a borrowed expression that didn’t quite belong to her face. Every passing day, she withdrew more into herself and distanced herself further from the rest of them. But most especially from him.
“That’s great, Ami,” she said, her tired voice betraying her.
“Are you okay Zoella?” Ami asked in a concerned tone. “You’ve been sleeping in the guest room, I know, and I haven’t said anything so far but…”
“Thank you, I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll see you later.”
But she’d only taken a step when Fardeen said quietly, “I’ll join you.”
Fardeen closed the door behind him and stood against it looking at her speculatively. Zoella perched herself at the edge of the futon in the room.
“I understand you needed your rest too. It’s been a long battle for you. But I hardly ever see you now. When are you going to stop sleeping in the guest room? Even Ami’s spoken out at last and you know how she is. She never interferes. Abba might be next. You want to take it up with him?”
“He won’t. And I don’t know about moving back. Let’s see.”
Zoella didn’t want to be near him. It made her weak. When he looked at her that certain way, she forgot, almost. So no, she had to stay away, especially if she really wanted to gain her independence.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
Already pushed to her limits, Zoella snapped, “I’m so tired of being answerable for every damned thing. What’s the big deal? I’m comfortable here. I don’t want to move back. I’m tired.”
“The big deal is that we’re married. I want to sleep with you every night, and wake up next to you every morning.”
He’d intended it as a romantic statement but it came out a bit wrong.
She laughed in that bitter cynical way she had and said, “Your wish is my command. Should I be waiting with your slippers at the door, wearing a negligee?”
Stung, he said, “Zoella, we’re married, you’re my wife.”
He’d vowed he wouldn’t touch her again till she dropped this nonsense. That hadn’t been a very wise decision on his part because she wasn’t dropping it any time soon. He was getting impatient in more ways than he could count. Clenching his jaw in frustration, he gave her a warning glare. She didn’t relent.
“Why do you feel the constant need to remind yourself of that fact, Fardeen? Do you think you’re likely to forget it if you don’t say it often enough? Is it a mantra to keep you from doing something that you think you shouldn’t?”
Not understanding her connotation at all, Fardeen said simply, “We’ll just drift apart like this, Zoella.”
“More than we have already, you mean?” she queried sweetly.
Exasperated, he said, “Yes. And I’m not willing to let that happen. You’d better be in our room by tonight, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you if I have to. This isn’t open for discussion.”
Fardeen left without another word. That hadn’t gone quite as he’d planned. He’d thought he’d be flirtatious but her coldness made him say things in panic, as if he was afraid of something. If he didn’t have her around him, she’d just distance herself more and he couldn’t let that happen. He missed her. So what if she didn’t go into hyperventilation at his overtures. She was tired and he hadn’t been quite the charming romantic type for a while now. Who could blame her for her coldness? She would welcome his attentions soon enough, he reassured himself.
***
Refusing to listen to any protests from his family, Fardeen went to his office the next day for the first time since coming home. He returned feeling drained and tired. Sinking into the armchair in their bedroom, he rested his head back. For a few moments he watched Zoella watch him with ill-disguised vexation.
With a twist of his mouth he said, “I’ll save you the trouble of saying I told-you-so. I’ll admit it was a mistake.”
She replied in the stinging manner that was becoming a habit with her, “It wasn’t your first. It sure as hell isn’t your worst.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, even though he knew very well what she was alluding to.
She didn’t respond.
“Are you by any chance referring to our marriage?” he asked.
She shrugged and said, “That is the first thing that came to your mind.”
Fardeen was the lawyer, but he didn’t have a defense, so he attacked. “You’re regretting marrying me now, when I’m whole again?” He was running out of patience and he couldn’t help goading her right back. He said in a tight voice, “So you think our marriage was a mistake. That’s not really breaking news, is it?”
She smiled at him, “Oh, not just me surely?”
He flinched and rubbed his hand over his face.
“I can’t take much more of this. You have to let it go, Zoella. I said I was sorry. Start behaving like my wife. I don’t want to have to live with a harpy.”
He gave her his best stern, lawyer look.
“You’re the one who insisted I come back to your bedroom. This is who I am. Harpy, whore, or whatever else you want to call me next.”
Ashamed and angry, he retorted, “That’s enough! I don’t ever want to hear of that again, Zoella. Let it go.”
She gazed back and then asked in the same, sweet, taunting voice, “Or else?”
His teeth clenched and he retorted, “Or else, you’ll regret it. That’s a promise.”
“How will you make me regret it?” She looked thoughtful, as if she was giving the matter serious consideration.
He was so tired of fighting her. He sighed. His voice was low and defeated, “What do you want me to do, Zoella? Beg?”
For the first time since that awful day, he saw her eyes fill with something other than icy disdain, and his heart contracted with pain. In that fleeting second he’d seen the raw agony and anger that he understood all too well, because he’d lived with it too.
But she’d learnt from the beast.
The icy glint was back at once and she said in that suggestive mocking way, “Whatever works for you, honeybun.”
“You’re hurting yourself too, you know.”
Her answer was a slow frosty smile.
His own was almost tender. With forced lightness, he said, “That smile is far too dangerous. Whatever are you planning next? Castration?”
“Oh sweetie, we both know we have Neha to thank for that.” She shot back at him before gliding out of the room.
Fardeen didn’t stop her. The last three weeks had been like living with a stranger. He’d wanted her every day but he couldn’t bear the idea of forcing himself on her and she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to let him forget his words. How ironic that the only time she’d come willingly to him, was when he had been scarred and ugly.
Too late, Fardeen realized that Zoella had loved him and he’d destroyed her.
TWELVE
Swaba came two days later in a hurricane of activity and noise.
“Amiiiiii!”
The squeal was a prolonged shrill sound that could have shattered glass. She looked radiant, healthy and happy. Zoella felt a stab of something in her chest before she curbed it.
Swaba gave another yell, “Fardeen Bhai!”
She hugged her brother, and promptly burst into tears.
Fardeen laughed. “That bad, huh?” With a peculiar look at Zoella, he said, “That seems to be the general consensus. I’ve lost my touch, it seems.”
Swaba looked up and gave him a teary smile.
“Don’t fish for compliments. You’ve always received plenty, to last a lifetime I’d say.”
Then Swaba turned to Zoella, “Zee, what’ve you done to yourself? You look like a ragdoll who’s seen better days. You should be bouncing off the walls, shouldn’t you? He’s back and all yours. God, the way you used to stare at his pictures with that mooning expression of yours.”
She got up to leave and Fardeen, who’d been standing near the fireplace, blocked her path by moving his body as if it was totally accidental. Zoella had no space to move away and she was almost pressed against him. Burning with embarrassment, she lifted her eyes to see Fardeen wearing a smug expression. He whispered, his voice full of suppressed laughter, “I’m flattered, and a bit confused. Are my pictures my competition, Zoella?”
Unaware of the latent tension, Swaba went on blithely, “I swear this girl used to have actual hearts in her eyes.”
Fardeen cocked his eyebrow at Zoella. Complacent and amused, he said, “Now that’s the kind of story I like to hear.”
“There isn’t just the one. Zee do you remember that time when he came home after his polo match and you nearly swooned?”
“I did no such thing!”
Fardeen’s unrestrained laughter was punctuated by Swaba’s chatter, “Of course you did, don’t deny it, I was there remember. And Bhai, you had these old faded blue jeans...”
Squaring her shoulders, looking into Fardeen’s smiling face, Zoella interrupted, “Well, things change. We were all just kids. All of us had a huge crush on you, and so many others.”
Swaba looked at Zoella in surprise, her smile fading.
Casually, his smile still in place, eyes lacking any hint at humor, Fardeen stepped back to let Zoella go and watched as she sped away.
Swaba raised her eyebrows at her brother.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m sure,” he replied.
They started talking of other things and after a while, Fardeen followed his wife upstairs. He found her plopped face down on their bed.