“Bye,Maa. Take care.”
I drop the phone back on the bed with a sigh as I finally read the note carefully.
“Don’t get ready for office. I called in for a leave on your behalf. Rest a little.”
Strange. Why would he call in on my behalf?
“Reyansh,” I call his name as I get out of our room. “Are you here?”
My eyes widen as I see a bouquet of flowers on the dining table and the smell ofpohaandchaiwafts through my nose.
“Yes,” he says. “I am here.”
He turns around, no shirt covering his chest and a red hue creeps up my cheeks and neck. The slight hair at his chest make him look undeniably hot and I am filled with a need to be closer to him. As if a part of me yearns to feel his touch. But that’s just me ovulating.
“Why did you call in for me at work?” I question “And what’s all this?”
“It’s your birthday so I thought I would do something for you,” he says, genuinely and my heart aches slightly because this isn’t fair. “Happy birthday, Aisha.”
It’s not fair that he decides to love me one day and give me the cold shoulder the next day.
He sits down at his regular place sipping his hot tea leaving me more confused.
“Why are you doing this, Rey?” I ask, slightly hurt
“Doing what?” he asks in turn
“Trying to make me feel special?”
“You are my wife, Aisha. I don’t need to make you feel special because you already are.”
Reyansh Carter
Aisha doesn’t say anything but just keeps staring at my face, as if trying to find out whether I am saying the truth or not. The idea that she thinks I am lying about her being special to me stings my heart, but I know no one else is responsible for this other than me.
Had I treated her right, like I used to do before, like she mattered to me because she does—God, she is the only one who does—then maybe she wouldn’t have such doubts when I say something remotely nice to her.
Last night, I got drunk to my core, done with myself and my situation. Aarav’s words hit my weak spot. How could I even forget her birthday? It’s her special day, the day I should have engraved inside my brain, and for a while, it was.
When we started dating, I used to make sure her birthday month was special for her. I have never been one to understand the hype of birthdays, but they mattered to her, so they mattered to me.
It makes me realize how downright pathetic I am to have forgotten it. Not only that, but slowly we have drifted apart so much that we feel more like roommates than a married couple.
Last night, I decided to win her back. In the drunk chaos that my mind had become, I came to the realization that nothing mattered if I didn’t have her.
Not the success, not the lifestyle we both worked hard for together, not the health—nothing. I would much rather be penniless and have her happy and willing by my side than be rich and not have her at all.
Because I know a life without Aisha would be a life not worth living. I knew that the moment I saw her; I just needed some help remembering that.
Even if that help came from my dumbass best friend and my mother smacking some sense into me.
Before leaving for home, my mother called me, asking if I had prepped something for their “daughter’s” birthday. At this point, she adores her more than me, and I can’t even be mad about it.
After all, Aisha deserves it. She deserves all the love in the world and then some more.
When she got to know that I had in fact forgotten her birthday, she yelled at me in typical British fashion and even tried to curse me in Punjabi. One she had learned from my dad, and she butchered it so bad that I had to restrain myself from laughing out loud.
But I got her point. If I didn’t value the one woman whom I yearned to have, then what was the point of all this?
