You and I, plus 2 years of marriage!

Two Strangers… One Lockdown!

{14}

Her heartbeats began to race while his heart was pounding in his chest. He thought a lot about this moment. But he had made a firm decision that he would tell her everything the day he showed her his portrait.

‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life. You resurrected my smile and passion. My art comes alive in tribute to you,’ he said letting out a heavy sigh.

As he spoke, she listened to his every word with a nervous impatience. She wanted him to let her go but at the same time she was overwhelmed by his intoxicating presence.

‘But this is not enough. The time I spend with you always makes me greedy for more. Every day, I want to wake up to your sleepy face and while you lightly snore in your sleep. I want to spend my day simply watching you breathe next to me. Every night, I want to listen to the stories that you have written. And as you narrate, I want you pull you closer and…’

He gently pulled her closer and planted a soft kiss on her lips. That moment, Ekaparnika almost swooned over Atharva. She had never been kissed so gently. It was a kiss that could bring back a woman from death. And that was exactly what he had done to her. She never thought that her heart was ever capable of harbouring romantic feelings for a man, after the ordeal that she had faced at the hands of her ex-husband.

‘Ekaparnika, please do the honour of accepting me as your companion for life.’

A slow smile entered Atharva’s face. Finally, he had said what he intended to. Their eyes were still closed and their foreheads were touching. She could still feel his breath on her face but it was calmer now. For a moment, she could not comprehend what he was trying to say. Then suddenly, the implications of his words hit her hard and cold. He was confessing his love for her. It was not hatred or abuse which she was so familiar with. Love from a man was new to her because she had experienced it neither from her father nor from her husband. She had learned to deal with abuse and violence. But this was love. And love scared her. She immediately moved away from him. He was abruptly pulled out of his heaven.

‘This can’t be true… this can’t be true!’ she said and almost ran out of the room.

Atharva was stunned to silence. He was horrified to see the expression her face. He had expected anger but what he saw in her eyes was something very unexpected. It was fear. He could not understand why she looked so terrified of him. He had not hurt her and he would never hurt her, but then why did she look so scared? Moving his hands over his face, he let out a long drawn breath. That was when he saw her portrait and there was the truth staring right into his eyes. It was the same expression that he had painted on her portrait. A few moments ago she had looked exactly the same as his painting.

‘Oh my God…’ he whispered into thin air.

She has still not come out of the horrors of her first marriage. When I confessed my love for her, all that she saw was him and not me…

Reality of that harsh truth crushed him under its weight. How could you convince a victim of years of domestic violence to fall in love again? That too with a man whose wife had divorced him for that very reason.

***

Something was not right. Yesterday, Ekaparnika had left before I went to the kitchen during lunch time. The rasagullas were untouched in the tiffin box. Atharva did not join me for lunch and he looked forlorn the entire day. We barely spoke anything to each other. The camaraderie that we had shared the previous night was lost in broad daylight. Later in the evening, I was very busy with work and I did not even notice that it was dinner time. I also had a night call scheduled with my UK client which forced me to bring dinner to my room and eat. He had not eaten when I went to take my plate of food. I could make out that he was brooding over something and it certainly was related to Ekaparnika. I could not help wondering what must have happened in the painting room the other day.

Today again, I ate my lunch alone. He had locked himself up in the painting room after preparing the lunch. I was overly tempted to knock on the door, but then I decided against it. I was not sure about what I would ask or tell him if he did open that door. By evening, I had made up my mind to speak to him. Maybe he was under stress and I had messed up in the past without talking to him when he was in some problem. Also, this could give me an opportunity to get close to him.

I cannot believe that I am looking for opportunities to get close to Atharva. I hated him so much ever since the day he slapped me. But now, everything changed because he was a changed man…

When I came out of my room around 7.45 pm, he was not in the living-room or in the kitchen. The painting room door was slightly ajar. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door but there was no response. I knocked twice and waited for a couple of more minutes. Then I slowly pushed the door open and went inside. Ekaparnika’s portrait stood in the centre of the room but he was not to be seen anywhere. When I looked outside the window, I found him sitting on the parapet of the balcony leaning his back against the wall. I went outside onto the balcony and stood facing him. There was a beer tin in his hand while he looked intently at the sky. He did not notice me.

When he was about to take another sip of beer, he saw me.

‘Hey Sharini, when did you come?’

‘I came a few minutes ago but looks like you are deep in thought,’ I said trying to sound as casual as possible.

‘Yeah… maybe. And by the way, this was the last beer tin in the fridge. I am sorry that could not offer you. There is some juice if you want,’ he said coolly.

‘No, that is fine. Anyway it is already nearing dinner time. Did you eat your lunch? You did not join me today.’

Atharva turned away from me and shook his head.

‘I am not hungry. But you please eat your dinner, don’t wait for me.’

One part of me wanted to quietly move away from him and go inside the house. But the rest of me wanted to stay with him right there and hold his hand while he spoke to me. His deep voice was still my weakness, especially when he was in the throes of passion. There were nights when his voice haunted my dreams.

‘Atharva,’ I called out to him.

‘Yes?’

‘Is everything alright?’ I asked him finally.

‘Yes, of course! Everything is absolutely fine,’ he said with an artificial smile.

‘I meant, are you okay?’

There was no way, I was going to let him off the hook today. I knew that there was something wrong with him and I was determined to make him confess.

‘Sharini, I am not in a chatty mood. Please leave me alone,’ he said without looking at me.

‘What happened Atharva? Is something terribly wrong?’

‘Even if there is something wrong, I don’t have to share it with you,’ he said brusquely.

‘Alright! Don’t tell me anything. Now you know why our marriage failed. You never tell me anything,’ I shot back. But I knew that this was an unfair remark and a blow below the belt for him.

‘Damn! I don’t tell you because you will not understand. We are never on the same page.’

Anger was evident on his face and his voice reached a deep baritone which made it sound sexier than usual. I had to use every ounce of my self-control to not throw myself into his arms. I had to clear my head from his alluring thoughts and focus hard on our conversation.

‘Well, suppose I say that I can now empathize with you, that I can do my best to understand you, will you tell me what happened?’

Atharva looked utterly confused. One moment I blamed him for our divorce and the next moment, I was trying to convince him that I would understand him.

‘What are you trying to say Sharini?’ he asked in bewilderment.

‘I am saying that I am ready to give a second chance to our marriage. Can we start all over again?’

The beer tin fell from his hand and hit the ground with a clang.

To be continued...