You and I, plus 2 years of marriage!

Two Strangers… One Lockdown!

{2}

I kept staring out at the empty streets. It barely looked like a Tuesday night in a bustling city that was quite famous for its notorious traffic on streets. Sooraj had almost let out a sigh of relief when I went to clear my hotel stay bill. He was glad that I was safely going to stay with my friend.

Friend. Really?

Well, I did not know what else to say when he looked questioningly at Atharva. Somehow it was easier to lie that my ex-husband was a friend. The hotel staff helped me load the luggage into his car. Actually, it was not his car. He owned a sedan before, but this was a simple hatchback. I was tempted to ask him where was his other car, yet I kept quiet. Why should it matter to me? It was anyway none of my business. Atharva got into the driver’s seat without opening the car door for me. For a moment, I had almost stepped towards the front passenger seat but then had to stop myself. Old habits die hard. I got into the rear seat and closed the door. He rolled up the windows and switched on the AC.

Other than greeting him at the door, I had not spoken to Atharva. Neither did he. I was glad that he respected my need for space and silence between us. We did not have an ugly divorce; it was with mutual consent. We were also not one of those couples who continued to remain friends after divorce. Coming to think about it, probably we were never friends. Although, he had somehow struck a bond with my father. Atharva had lost his father at a very young age and he very much looked up to mine. My mother had fleetingly once mentioned to me that papa spoke to him once in a while and enquired about his well-being. I did not stop him from continuing it. Maybe I should have stopped him from contacting my ex-husband, then he might not have done this to me today. Nodding my head, I looked up at the rear view mirror. Did he just look away when I looked up? The action was too smooth and swift for me to even notice it. Or maybe I simply imagined it?

After driving for close to an hour, he turned into the parking space of an apartment complex. It was a residential area and there were only a couple of people on the street. The city was eerily quiet as if mourning the loss of revellers on its streets. He unloaded my luggage from the car. Without letting him get it, I moved forward and pulled my trolley bag. He did not seem to be perturbed by my quick action. I followed him into the elevator, and he pressed the button to the 8^th floor. It was also the highest floor in the building. He was standing beside me but there was enough space to let two more adults stand between us. His gaze was fixed on the elevator’s display as if he was willing it to reach its destination at twice the normal speed. It was a quick ride because nobody interrupted us till the 8^th floor. When the elevator’s door opened, I was surprised. There was no other flat on that floor except one. He fished out the keys from his pocket and opened the door.

When he switched on the lights, I was dumbfounded. I slowly walked inside, dragging my trolley bag and looked around in awe. It was less of a house and more of an art gallery. There were at least two paintings on each wall and every corner of the living room was dotted with carefully picked artefacts. There were also a few indoor plants adding more character to the space. I must have at least spent two whole minutes gawking at the house because when I turned around, the door was locked, and he was casually leaning against the wall waiting for me. My cheeks turned beet red with embarrassment.

‘Nice house,’ I croaked.

‘Thank you,’ he said with a curt nod.

Once again, the awkward silence was back between us. I looked away from him and thankfully the house was filled with many interesting things to set my eyes on. Wordlessly, he went inside a room and switched on the light. I could hear the doors of the cupboard being opened and closed. He came out after some time holding a pillow, bedsheet and blanket.

Was he going to ask me to sleep in the living-room? Obviously, he was not going to let his ex-wife use his bed.

Atharva dropped the stuff on the sofa and carried a bottle of water into that room. Suddenly my stomach began to growl. Thank God, he could not hear it. But heart of heart, I actually wished that he heard it. I was now extremely hungry, but my ego would never let me ask him for food. When he came back, he had changed into t-shirt and track pants. Surprisingly, his belly did not show like before.

I should really stop checking him out!

‘You can use that room. I have freed up some space in the cupboard, if you need it. In case you do not have clean clothes, you could use my t-shirts and tracks. You will easily find them in the cupboard. You can go and fresh up.’

I simply nodded and walked into the room. The room was neat and tidy and there were a few paintings here too on the walls. There was a clean towel on the king-size bed and when I opened the cupboard, his clothes meant for my use were neatly folded and placed on the top shelf. The first thing that I noticed in the room was the warm lighting. The room walls were painted light blue, the colour of the morning sky, his favourite. It was indeed relaxing after a difficult day. I took a quick shower and changed into my loose cotton capris and sleeveless top. I almost considered switching off the lights and falling asleep on the inviting bed, if my stomach had not growled again. Hesitantly, I opened the door, praying that he must have slept in some spare room in the house. Alas! The Gods have decided to not heed to any of my prayers today. He was sitting on the sofa watching TV. When he heard me walk out, he switched off the TV and went to the dining table. It was a compact table with only four chairs which could be easily slid under the table. He pulled out two chairs and brought two plates from the kitchen. I sheepishly stood near the sofa unable to decide on what to do next.

After pouring two glasses of water, he kept a vessel on the table and looked towards me.

‘I have still not eaten my dinner. I don’t know if you have, would you like to eat something?’

I was very tempted to say yes but something stopped me. I just shook my head for a no. He looked confused for a moment.

‘My cook prepares really good puliyogare and he has made it tonight. You may not get this so often in Mumbai and I don’t know if you have tried it anywhere else. I really think you should give this a try,’ he said as a matter of fact.

My stomach let out a loud growl at his words. Damn it! Without delaying another moment, I went and sat at the table. He let me take the first serving of the rice and then served some onto his plate. Right after taking the first bite, I was in heaven. He was right, after all. The puliyogare was the best I had ever eaten. I could almost hear the happiness in my hungry stomach. We both ate in silence without any eye contact, although I did steal a couple of glances at him. Once we finished eating, I left the plate in the wash basin and turned to go into the bedroom. He took his plate to the sink and then began washing the vessels. I had no intention of helping him but there was one question that I was really desperate to ask him. Yet I was not sure how to begin. When he momentarily turned around, he was surprised to still see me standing there.

‘Do you need anything more? I have kept a bottle of water in the bedroom.’

‘Yeah, I saw that. But… you know…’

He turned completely to face me.

‘What is it Sharini?’

I sucked in a quick gush of air. It had been almost two years since I had heard him utter my name. I could feel my insides squeeze uneasily.

‘Should I be expecting someone else also in this house? I mean, do you stay alone?’

To be continued...