“Iwanted a second opinion,” Ritu nodded. “Bias shouldn’t come in.”
“And I had a very pertinent question.” Nilay held his hand up. Ritu glanced at him, her brows furrowed.
“Sorry, Doctor, but you wouldn’t answer me straight,” he whispered to her before turning to his official cardiologist. “When am I cleared for sex?”
Ritu glared at him and Dr. Shravan burst out laughing.
“Stress tests are clear, Mr. Patel. If you can sprint up 2-3 flights of stairs without strain then you are good to go. Sex and running are not very different when it comes to stress to the heart.”
“Oh, so you were right then,” Nilay gaped at her. She was spitting daggers at him with her eyes. He winced. He was clear for sex after she made him race up the stairs, but would he even have a partner?
The way she was plotting his murder in creative ways right now, Nilay didn’t think so.
————————————————————
The bell chimed, and he quickly collected the breadcrumbs from the platform and threw them in the dustbin. He swiped a hand down the chopping board and carried it out to the dining table. It was already set up with bowls of peeled cucumbers, onions, boiled potatoes, beet and tomatoes. He had minced up a low-oil, low-salt coriander chutney and borrowed sandwich masala from his ‘dost’ Raju.
The bell chimed again and he ran a hand through his hair, checking his appearance in the glossy smoked glass at the entrance as he turned the lock and opened the door.
“Welcome, Doctor!”
“Why is this key not working? You locked the door?” She was hassled, carrying a bag of groceries that he had sent her off to get. She thrust it into his arms — “Here! Your ration for a whole year…” her voice trailed. He smiled, stepping out of her way as her eyes ran over the spick and spanking hall, glowy now, with the lights down to mood-lit, air smelling of delectable food and musk freshener, and sunflowers waiting for her on the island.
“Is somebody coming…?” She stepped inside. “That’s why you sent me?”
Nilay shut the door, stepping behind her and curving his arm around her waist — “Tell me, Ritu, do you ask these questions to act pricey or you genuinely don’t know?”
Her head turned over her shoulder — “This… for me?”
He reached down and pecked her temple. “For you,” he whispered to the wisps of hair flying there. He smoothed them down and kissed it again. “All for you. This is not even my full potential. But it’s a start.”
Her eyebrows went up.
“I didn't have enough time,” he winced. “You were out for only half an hour. Go again for one hour and see what I do!”
A small, watery chuckle erupted from her mouth. Her eyes teared up.
“Hey! No crying. What are you crying for?”
“I am not a crier.” She shook her head. “What else did you do?”
He felt the loss in his arms as she pushed out of them, walking into his house. She wore a homely dark leggings and a loose T-shirt — her favourite loungewear, he had discovered. He was a couturier who wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something so blasé but on her, everything looked beautiful. When had he ever thought that he would fall in love with a woman who did not dress to impress every moment of her every day?
“Sandwich?” She trailed a hand across the packet of white bread he had kept open on the dining table.
“Today I am allowed white bread,” he strode up behind her. “Please.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but nodded. “What else…?”
“These,” he plucked the bunch of sunflowers from the island and held them out to her. She began to reach for them when he dropped to a knee and held them up dramatically. Her laughter this time wasn’t as watery. And he saw the hope of this night reviving. Nilay had discovered that she wasn’t too sold on surprises. That was one of the reasons he had kept this one as mellow as possible. He would have to get her used to his level of ostentatious plans slowly.
“Thank you.” She accepted his sunflowers and caressed their petals. “What else?”
“Materialistic Doctor,” he got to his feet, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He leaned down to her ear — “Malai Dark Chocolate Chips and Sitafal ice cream chilling in the fridge.”
Her chuckle was loud in his shoulder; the same shoulder where she had wept once, and made him hers. He swayed with her, without any music, because that was one department he had planned to outsource to her. She was the queen. The tapori. He said as much and this time her laughter opened up, completely. He swayed some more, letting her neck bow back. Nilay kissed the column of her throat. And her laughter died, her breathing slowly picking up.
“Are you hungry?” He asked. Her eyes met his, wide and stupefied. She nodded.
