She Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

by Zeenat Mahal

  There was absolute silence. They stared into each other’s faces for an infinity it seemed. Then with a huge sigh of relief, Fardeen said, “God, I’m so glad we cleared that up!”

  She gasped and opened her mouth but Fardeen didn’t give her the chance to blast him.

  “Zoella, I deserved every bit of vengeance you wreaked on me, but God, it hurt. That night, when I told you I loved you, you laughed at me and said you didn’t care. I was afraid that maybe it was true after all, and you really were indifferent to me. I couldn’t take that. Even then, I just couldn’t let you go. I love you. I cannot live without you.”

  This time her voice came out too high.

  “I didn’t let you see? Are you blind? I’ll spell it out for you. I. Love. You. Even after you said that horrible thing to me. Even then. You broke my heart and I still love you. I’m a miserable, wretched fool. Everything Swaba said was true. It’s true that I’ve dreamed of you since I was ten. Happy now? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To humiliate me further?”

  Feeling light-headed with happiness that she did indeed love him, Fardeen teased, “Sweetheart, my love, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you accomplished that all on your own, when you said I was the rising sun in all its glory.”

  Zoella’s mouth fell open. She turned beetroot red and glared at him.

  Fardeen smiled, his eyes sparkling. He came over, sat down beside her and said, “Zoella, you mean the world to me. I love you and have for a long, long time now. I can’t seem to help myself. Or stop saying that I love you.”

  “It’s hard to believe you after what you said to me, and that jewelry exhibition, and the way you talked with her, and the way—”

  “Zoella, I’ve made many mistakes in my life. But give me some credit, I’m not an idiot. Only an imbecile would want anyone else when he has you. You’re perfect, and sweet, and gorgeous and oh, so sexy. I rather like the way you can’t think beyond sex when it comes to me, even my retribution is planned around it, and I really, truly have a deep appreciation—bordering on respect actually—for the way you impart justice. It’s most…satisfying.”

  She couldn’t help the tremulous smile that stole its way onto her lips. Zoella’s heart was betraying her good sense again. She was beginning to believe him and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.

  She whispered, “You smell of her…”

  Giving her an awkward little smile, he said, “I’m not proud of it, in fact it’s downright embarrassing. I…may have sprayed myself with the perfume she uses, before coming back in. I’ll have to get my clothes cleaned to get the odor out. All’s fair and all that.”

  After a pause he added, a little shame-faced, “It sounds even worse when one hears it out loud. Shamefully juvenile, something I could expect from Salaar. See what you’ve reduced me to doing?”

  Smiling tremulously, she said, “It is rather pitiable, if it’s true.”

  “It’s true.”

  She stared at him, incredulous and disbelieving. “So you…you’re saying you really don’t love her anymore?” she asked.

  He shook his head, saying, “I never loved her, Zoella. I know that now, because the way I love you, I’ve never felt that way before. Never. You’re my compass and my anchor and my love. My only love.”

  She sat there stock still, “You honestly haven’t been meeting her secretly?”

  He shook his head, and said in categorical tones, “No, I haven’t. I was just trying to prove to you that you love me. And sort of goad you into saying it out loud to me.”

  “But you know I did! You said so yourself. I have ever since…”

  She stopped, looking embarrassed.

  “Yes?” Fardeen asked, his eyes dancing.

  “Nothing,” she pouted.

  Fardeen took her hands in his and said quietly, “I’m sorry about that ring. I’ll buy you a bigger diamond. The biggest there is.”

  She whispered, “It doesn’t matter. That Neha can have.”

  “Zoella?” he began but she shook her head.

  “Give me time, Fardeen. I need some time to think.”

  “I understand. Give me a chance. Don’t shut me out.”

  ***

  The next few days were awful for Zoella.

  She had to have long exhausting discussions with her parents-in-law about the ‘reality’ of what was ‘out there’. How it was a woman’s responsibility to make the home. As if women were responsible for everything alone. As if getting a divorce meant the end of life for a woman.

  To top it all, Swaba teased her incessantly about the rising sun comment, which she had heard somehow. She even told Salaar about it. He looked at Zoella like she was some low form of algae.

  Which of course she was, Zoella moaned to herself. Why, oh why, did she have to say that to Fardeen?

  “Why do girls say stuff like that? Then they want to hear it back.”

  “Why? What did Mahnoor Nice Girl have to say to you?” asked Swaba.

  Salaar sighed.

  “What did she do?” Zoella asked, heart raging and eyes narrowing. “I knew she was a mean girl.”

  “Very original, Zee.”

  “Well I guess you deserved it then,” she changed her tune immediately at his retort.

  She heard Fardeen laugh behind her. He was back from work. Her cheeks grew hot. All of her initial reactions to him were back in full force. It had been happening again since that day they’d confronted each other. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said and that was the most difficult thing to deal with. Her own desire to give in to that treacherous heart of hers was growing stronger by the minute.

  “Hi,” her husband came and sat down beside her on the sofa. Turning towards her he smiled. “You look pretty.”

  Salaar leaned forward and said, “Vow of everlasting love? What are you, a Disney princess?”

  Fardeen’s smile vanished. He looked at Swaba.

  “Yeah, she told me,” Salaar grinned. “Are you sure you just got your face done in the U.S.?”

  “Shut up,” Fardeen said through clenched teeth.

  Salaar laughed. Fardeen tried to look forbidding and failed, while his siblings laughed.

  Zoella couldn’t help laughing a little. Poor Fardeen. Salaar was never going to let him forget. Her smile was wiped off of her face though, when the door was opened by their retainer, to let her mother, brother and sister-in-law in.

  “Ami? Assalam-o-elikum. What a pleasant surprise,” said Zoella.

  “I wish it was,” said her brother. His hostile attitude softened as he regarded Fardeen who came forward to greet them.

  Fardeen said salaam to his mother-in-law.

  She patted him on his head.

  Farwa Bhabi said, “We’ve been so worried about you.”

  “Really? Why?” Zoella asked, confused.

  “You tell Ami you want…” her brother glanced nervously at Fardeen and changed tack, “you tell her stories and then you vanish for weeks. Of course we were worried.”

  “Ami said she didn’t want to hear about my…problems.”

  “What problem do you have? You’re married into a good family. They provide for you. You live in this big house. Drive in fancy cars,” said Farwa Bhabi. “I’m the one who’s stuck with all the problems. You’re so ungrateful.”

  "I’d advise you not to take that tone with my wife,” said Fardeen firmly.

  Zoella’s heart lurched. Fardeen came over and sat down beside her.

  Her brother laughed nervously and said, “Fardeen Bhai we just came to make sure that Zoella is not pursuing any of her silly ideas. Women! You can’t make them happy, I tell you. I told her categorically that she cannot be this thankless…”

  "Stop.”

  The word rang out in the room. Although it wasn’t loud, it was deadly in its softness.

  “You’ve got it backwards,” Fardeen said heavily.

  “Fardeen, you don’t have to,” Zoella murmured.

  Her brother sai
d, “Yes, you don’t have to apologize to her. She did what she was supposed to.”

  Fardeen looked at his brother-in-law with barely concealed distaste.

  “Zoella’s doesn’t ‘have’ to do anything,” he said quietly. “No woman does. Maybe we should stop smothering women with labels. Maybe we should stop thinking we needn’t show appreciation because they’re doing what they’re ‘supposed to.”

  Her brother looked stunned for a moment and then said overly loudly, “You’re a very great man, Fardeen Bhai.”

  “If acknowledging that my wife went through hell for me makes me great, what does it make her? She actually did go through hell for me.”

  There was silence in the room.

  Her brother looked astonished. He turned his head towards Zoella, regarding her with wary respect. As if he’d just realized she was a person. Her mother too smiled lovingly at her—a look that had been hitherto reserved only for her brother. Farwa Bhabi looked both envious and impressed.

  A husband’s regard was crucial in their hypocritical society, and knowing that, Fardeen had made sure her family knew that he valued Zoella. Not that she needed validation from any man. Zoella sighed. She was crumbling though. Fardeen was making it impossible for her to remain angry with him.

  “I say that because I was that man for a while. I didn’t like that man. I’m not surprised your sister didn’t either. So if she came to her family looking for support, I don’t blame her at all. I only wish she could have found it there,” said Fardeen

  “Well, she’s found it here,” said Salaar. “She’s the sister I never had.”

  “Excuse me?” Swaba glared.

  Zoella laughed out loud at her friend’s incredulous face.

  “Whaaat? You’re not a sister. You’re an inconvenience,” said Salaar keeping a straight face. Swaba stuck her tongue out at him.

  After tea and an hour of small talk and awkward silences, her family left.

  Zoella went back upstairs with Swaba. She only listened to her friend’s babbling with half an ear.

  She was thinking of Fardeen with a secret little smile on her face.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  It was Basant again.

  Life in Lahore revolved around food and festivals, relatives and weddings, fairs and exhibitions and Zoella loved them all. Well, maybe not the relatives so much. Wearing yellow, bangles and a smile, she was feeling happier than she had in months. She and Salaar were choosing kites for him on yet another rooftop. They’d been to two different basant parties already.

  It was Lahore. Everyone was busy upstaging everyone else.

  “This one looks good,” she said pointing to a big yellow one with two large black polka dots for eyes.

  “Yeah, that’ll do,” Salaar said.

  They went towards the string spools to choose one.

  “Hey, could you help me out a little?” said Fardeen from behind them.

  “Go find your own spool-girl, she’s mine,” said Salaar. Then he burst out laughing at the look that passed across his brother’s face. He was doubling up laughing. “Zee, did you see his face?”

  Zoella looked at Fardeen who was still looking askance at his brother.

  “Er…,” she began and stopped. Neha was coming their way.

  “Hi guys!” Neha trilled.

  Zoella lost her voice. Fardeen winced. Salaar ignored her.

  “I’ll help you find a good kite, Fardeen. I was always lucky for you, remember?”

  “No,” said Fardeen and walked away.

  Neha stared at his retreating back.

  “Zee, are you going to help me, or are you going to be a dutiful little wife?”

  “Shut up, and get moving. What would you do without me?” she grinned and sauntered off with Salaar.

  Cries of ‘bo kaata’ were already resounding in the air. Salaar joined Fardeen and they started their usual squabbling. Zoella noticed Neha had joined them.

  “Nice going Salaar,” she exclaimed as Salaar poached his brother’s kite. “See Fardeen? You need me to bring you luck,” she laughed.

  Looking at Zoella Fardeen said, “Someone’s messing with my concentration.”

  Zoella’s heart thumped harder.

  “You sore loser! You’re going to blame your loss on not getting Zoella, aren’t you?”

  “Well, you do have the most beautiful spool-girl. I’m distracted,” Fardeen said, winking at his wife.

  Zoella’s heart skipped a beat. She smiled.

  “Zee!” Salaar’s yell brought her out of her trance.

  Salaar glared. Grimacing, he said with obvious irritation, “You know what? Fardeen Bhai, you can have her. And you go stare at him for as long as you want. I need someone who can actually hear me.”

  Fardeen laughed and said, “Thank you.” Looking at Zoella he said, “He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

  Zoella couldn’t help herself. Her heart was soaring all on its own.

  “And what makes you think you do?” she asked him, walking over.

  Grinning, he said, “Uh, I think that you think I do and I trust your judgment. After all you knew it at the tender age of ten.”

  Zoella was still thinking of a clever comeback when Neha interrupted them.

  She looked down at Zoella from her lofty five foot seven height, and said sweetly, “You know what I like about seasons? That they pass.” She smiled at Zoella meaningfully. “Change is good, but there are some things that never change. Like the sun rising—.”

  She stopped short because Fardeen was laughing.

  “I wasn’t being funny,” Neha said in consternation.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that there are some words I cannot hear and not laugh. Zoella’s changed the way I hear things.” He paused and then added, “Zoella’s changed a great deal for me.”

  Neha looked flummoxed.

  Then Fardeen turned and looking at Neha gravely said, “And Neha, you’re very right. Change is good.” Then he smiled at Zoella and said, “Sometimes, it’s the best thing that can happen to you.”

  Neha drew her breath in sharply. Fardeen looked back at her and said with a shrug, “The constants that keep us anchored? Zoella is mine.”

  Then he turned towards his wife and said, “Are you going to help me fly a kite or what?”

  ***

  Fardeen was lying in bed reading.

  He heard the bathroom door open and then close softly. He looked up smiling, and forgot to breathe.

  Zoella snuggled in beside him, resplendent in something that was designed to do serious damage to a man’s thinking capabilities. It was working.

  “I don’t know if you remember,” she said, taking his book away from him. “But I tried this before. It didn’t go very well.”

  Groaning he put his arms around her and said, “I caused you so much hurt. Oh, dear God, I’m so sorry, Zoella, I don’t know what came over me.” He stopped looked at her somberly and said, “Please say you forgive me for that?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” she asked.

  He took her face in his hands, his eyes warm, his voice full of regret, “You mean that?”

  “Let’s not ever mention it again?” she said.

  “You really forgive me? You don’t hate me anymore? You’re not angry?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  They stared at each other for the longest time.

  Humbly, Fardeen said, “Thank you.”

  She smiled and gathered herself back into his arms.

  He whispered, “I don’t deserve you. I felt so ugly and you’re nothing but light and joy. I felt guilty when I wanted you, and God did I ever. You’re perfect and I was so damaged. I was afraid for the longest time that you pitied me, that you couldn’t possibly feel love for someone like me.”

  “Don’t. Please. Let’s not dwell on the past,” she whispered.

  “I love you Zoella. I swear to you that I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you in every way you can imagine—and some you can’t.�
��

  A stunned little laugh escaped her and she looked at him, her eyes full of warmth and love. He held her gently in his arms, cradling her like she was the most precious thing to him in the world.

  “Let me count the ways I fell in love with thee…thou? Well, you know—you. Maybe it was when you declared to an entire roomful of cynics that you’d been dreaming of being my bride since you were ten, or maybe it was when you said that ‘it was really nice’ and you didn’t honestly want it any way.”

  Zoella spluttered with laughter.

  “And I fervently hope, I’ve helped you come up with more flattering adjectives by now.” He smiled and said softly, “I know I was definitely in love with you by the time you seduced me so sweetly, and I was a goner by the time you were yanking my chain six ways to Sunday. You made me happy when nothing and no one did.”

  Feeling like she’d been transported into the dream she’d held on to for the longest time, and against all odds, Zoella blinked her tears away. He did love her. He did love her! Why else would he be quoting—well, paraphrasing really—Elizabeth Barrett Browning? How she loved him for knowing enough about one of her favorite poets to misquote her.

  “It goes against a man’s nature when he’s blubbering ad infinitum like a lovesick teenager and doesn’t hear it back. Just for the symmetry you know.”

  Laughing, she said, “And we know how you love symmetry.”

  “We do,” he nodded with mock gravity, “second only to your erotic bedroom games. Don’t let me stop you from whatever it was you were going to do,” said Fardeen.

  She laughed and nestled up against him. Eyes shining, she sniffed a little and said, “You know I love you. You’ve known it all along. I can’t seem to help myself.”

  “I’ll forever be grateful for that.”

  Looking at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he said, “Did I mention polo season’s about to start? I’ll be playing.”

  Zoella’s eyes were full of stars, when she asked, breathless and wide-eyed, “You will? In khaki breeches and riding boots?”

  Fardeen burst out laughing again, and pulling her in further towards him, he murmured, “Oh God, Zoella, my love, I want you back. The way you were, with your sunshine, your kindness, the foot in mouth situations you cannot seem to avoid—and I wouldn’t mind you swooning a couple of times on my account, so that I can revive you with true love’s kiss. Or a hundred.”