‘This time when I was in Delhi, he came over.’ She took a bite of her almond croissant and looked around her.
‘Because he had work there?’ A question befitting a second-grade first-bencher.
‘No, Bae, to see me!’ my friend said, gulping down her tea to keep from spattering it over me.
Hussain was the relief in the chaos Chhaya’s life had become in recent months. If she was not working, then she was caring for her brother, and the only time she got away from it all was when we met, and we hadn’t met much. Men were always chasing her, but either the timing wasn’t right or the person was ‘a little off centre’, as she put it. Whose centre, I didn’t ask.
She longed to be young and get knotted in a romance. A careless affair. At the very least, I thought, Hussain would be a worthy spoiler.
‘If this were a movie plot, where would it go?’ My voice was weak. I took a deep breath in a bid to replenish it.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s just the beginning. For the time being, I just want to enjoy it.’
‘Some beginning it has been! Comprehensive.’
‘Is there any other way to start?’
‘Outside of all bases covered? That would be unprofessional,’ I said, winking. A tear escaped my determined guard, a sob followed. I had held on for too long.
‘What happened?’ Chhaya asked, moving forward in her seat. ‘Why are you crying?’
‘I’ve put in my papers.’
‘AtMorning Herald,’ she said. It was not a question.
I apologized to Chhaya. She was finally enjoying a romance and I couldn’t even hear her out. Wait until she had said her piece. Wow!
‘Why?’ she pressed after dismissing my admission of guilt.
‘I can’t work with Andrew any more; I shouldn’t be around him. I need to get away.’
‘Shouldn’t?’
I shook my head.
‘What happened, Myra?’
‘It’s not the same any more.’ I wasn’t going to bring up the messages; they were only a trigger for the decision. Pooja wasn’t the reason.
‘What?’
‘Us?’
She was chewing at her croissant furiously. I heard it.
‘He doesn’t see what his affair has done to me, to us.’
‘But why did you quitMorning Herald?’
‘I wish he’d returned to India with a wife and three sons. It would’ve been a kick in the gut, but I would’ve managed. I’d have recovered.’
‘When exactly did this happen?’
‘A month ago.’
My friend looked at her watch; she was checking the date. She was in Delhi. ‘I assume you have told him.’
I recalled the entire process, from the first texts I had sent out looking for a job to telling Andrew.
