“I am not mad at you, Reyansh,” she says, looking at me, and I can tell from the look on her face that she is not even lying. “I am not even disappointed. You got caught up in work; it was important, and you couldn’t inform any of us. I know. I understand. I have heard the same thing over and over again so many times that I am sure I can repeat these words in my sleep. So, when I say I understand, I mean it.”
Her words are laced with hurt she won’t let come to the surface because I have lost the right to do so. I have lost the right to be there for her, and I can’t even redeem myself at this point.
She gives me one last look before walking towards our room, and I am left thinking about what to do now.
How should I apologize? What can I do to make up to her? All of this makes me wonder how many times she has felt this way and how many times she has buried her feelings inside to not make me feel like the total loser I am.
I follow her in, shutting the door behind as she walks into the washroom, not even sparing me a glance.
I hate myself more than anyone could at the moment. More than she can hate me at the moment.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the love in her heart for me had fizzled out. Perhaps Aarav was right. It is a shock how she has still managed to stay with me. How she didn’t think about the divorce until now.
Because if I were in her place, I would have left a long time ago. I wouldn’t even have waited till three months, like our mothers have proposed.
I am both grateful and ashamed.
I unbutton my shirt, letting it open so I can breathe. All this anticipation is making me anxious. It would be so much better if she would yell at me.
But I guess it is a courtesy I no longer deserve.
When she finally does come out, she passes me by, and I get a whiff of her body wash.
“Aisha,” I say, and she looks at me. Her brown eyes look tired and exhausted, as if the weight of the world is weighing her down. When we got together, I had promised to ease her life. To take the weight of the world off her shoulders so that my girl could just live.
For a while, she did. Until I backed off like the little bitch that I am.
“Yes?” she asks.
I inch closer towards her and carefully take her hands in mine. She doesn’t say anything and doesn’t push me away, but the stiffness in her body gives away her feelings.
“I don’t only want to say I am sorry. I want you to know why I am.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I take it as my cue to go on. I don’t know if my truth would make any of a difference. But I want to stop repeating old patterns.
In the past, I would just say “sorry” and let it be. But she deserves more than just a plain sorry.
“When I first left for office, I had made sure that all of my meetings were short and scheduled on time. I didn’t want to be late this time. I swear I didn’t plan on missing this too. I know I have done it plenty of times in the past, and I am trying to be better. But then Aarav showed up and distracted me.”
“How? Did he give you a lap dance? How could he possibly distract you?”
I shake my head. Even when she is mad at me, she wouldn’t stop from shipping me and Aarav together.
“No,” I say. “God, no. He came to invite us both to a fake influencer-invite-only wedding party because he has no date this time. He wants us to accompany him, and when I asked him to leave, he didn’t. He kept on rambling about some girl he doesn’t like who will be there, and she is apparently his competition in this whole influencer stuff.”
I took a deep breath before moving on.
“I had a very important meeting with one of our biggest clients—Dominic Wolfe. They want us to expand their offices in New York, and I couldn’t have possibly delayed it or fucked it up considering we got a meeting with them after so long. Because of Aarav, we got late to the meeting, which made it stretch out for longer than I thought it would. And before I realized it, I was already late.”
She looks me straight in the eyes, and I lay myself bare in front of her. I want her to know I am not lying. In fact, I need her to know that I am not lying. I would never do anything to hurt her. Intentionally.
“It still doesn’t excuse the fact that I let you down again. I am sorry. Please let me make it up to you.”
She stays silent, and I hold my breath, waiting for her response. I am ready for anything. Any kind of confrontation,hateful words. I will bear them like a knife to my chest. But I can’t bear her silence.
“I am not mad at you, Reyansh,” she says after a while, and I don’t think she is lying or saying this just to make me happy. “I am just disappointed, and not even for myself.”
She chuckles, and that sound should have made me happy. It would have if it were genuine, but this one comes out of pain that I keep on inflicting on her.
