“How long have you stayed here?”
“Today is the second day.” She set the keys and her potli down on the kitchen island, the hand-embroidered sequins of the multi-panelled ghaghra glinting just the way he had envisioned they would in the right lights. He had seen this piece on a model when it was launched, and then on Miss Universe, India. He had never seen it come to life like it did now, buttressing her creamy skin that he had the honour of feeling under his hands only a fortnight ago, complimenting the red of her mouth that was naturally full, cuffing her forearms at just the right spots so that they looked whole and womanly, nottoned.
“You are staring again.”
“You are wearing me.”
Her brows furrowed. Then enlightenment hit, and her eyes widened. She gaped down at herself, turning one way and then the other, as if doing so would give her a glimpse of the back.Hegot that glimpse, of the long, delicate fabric tassels tangling with locks of dark hair and clinking with her bare back where they tied and held the blouse together. His pants felt tight and he raised his gaze.
He had been in this business ever since he was a teenager. He had designed, sewn and marketed couture for women, dressed them too. Never had he reacted like this. It was job. Work. Bland. One look at her and he wanted to tear the same couture that he had spent five and a half nights designing off her so that he would have her.
“This is so good, Nilay…” she was still moving around, her ghaghra swishing around her. “Maya didn’t tell me it’s yours.”
“I doubt that.”
She rolled her eyes — “Ok, maybe she did but I was so stressed that I must have missed it.”
That tamped his desire. And her momentary awe. She stilled.
“I’ll get you water.”
“Ritu.”
She stopped.
“One minute, honest things. Go.”
“No.”
“Go.”
“No.”
“I have been thinking of excuses to text or call you ever since we returned from Patan but couldn't find any. Then I knew my tests were coming up and I counted down the days to go for them. I ran. I didn’t even care what the result was as long as I got to send them to you. When I sent them to you and you blocked me, and then I heard your voice, I couldn't stop. I am glad I did not stop. Who was he?”
“You were not anxious about your tests?”
“That’s what you caught from this?”
She chuckled. And he felt himself return it. He had never been so upfront with a woman. His dating life had always hinged on mystery. Keeping the partner guessing kept the spark alive. But here, with her, he suddenly had no qualms about laying it all bare. What was happening to him? This wasn't even dating. She had made it very clear. And yet he was prostrating himself in front of her.
“I really need to change.”
“It’s that bad?” He eyed his creation.
“The stitching inside the blouse is, and… I need the bathroom…” she managed before she ran inside what he assumed was a bedroom. Nilay burst out laughing.
————————————————————
He was drinking a glass of water when she returned, dressed in loose pyjama bottoms that he was intimately familiar with and a T-shirt that was two sizes too big for her but looked like it gave her immense comfort. She was now fresh-faced, out of all the makeup, and looked even more tired. He set the glass down and met her halfway, taking her hand into his and pulling her into his chest, turning both their feet around and back to the bedroom. She did not protest. Instead, her body became lax in his. And his resolve to make her ok became harder.
The bedroom was just as bare as the kitchen, only her discarded clothes — all turned inside out and looking like a mess, scattered on a chair. He felt laughter bubble inside his chest at the sight.
“What?” She asked, her head too close to that part of him which was vibrating.
“I would sack a member of my team for leaving my couture like this,” he pointed with his chin.
“You can’t sack me.”
