The clock ticks to midnight. It is two hours past her scheduled time for arrival.
She is yet to take her supplements. I am a mix of worry and anger.
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"She better not show up late", I thought out loud as Bittuji followed me close behind.
"I know how tango works. She is probably cozying up to that bisexual as we speak. I cannot believe she entered the competition without my say so. She should have asked for permission. I will tell her tonight. I mean we're married now. She should atleast tell me".
"Actually chief, Bhabhji told you about the competition. You said you couldn't go".
"Are you on her side or mine?"
"Well..."
I knew where this was going so, I interrupted.
"I pay your salary so shut up and suck up...to me. I pay you to agree with me".
"You pay me to make the right decisions chief".
"That is my conscience's job", I scoffed.
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"You don't have a conscience chief. My Bhabhiji will never stoop to your level and shame on you for thinking that. Shame on you for calling me in the middle of the night asking me to spy on your pregnant wife because you can't trust her. Shame on your manhood".
He served me the blunt taunts with all the rough edges. But, this was my mess to clean up.
"I am going to wait up. I know I can be stupid at times. What did you tell Ms. Ramani?"
"Don't change the topic chief and don't call me to handle your sissy insecurities".
Now, he was really getting out of line.
"This is very unprofessional Bittuji".
"Look who's talking? You, the man who slept with his heroine, is telling me I am unprofessional. Oh the hypocrisy! I found out chief. I told you, you could not hide the truth for long".
So he knew. He knew about Deepali. Did he know about all my inhibitions?
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"I simply cannot see her touch another man. I understand it is her profession but I see the way he looks at her. She is my Madhu. MINE".
My words were over-bearing, they muffled the sound of her footsteps. She had heard every thing. She quietly placed her first place trophy and the monetary winnings in a lone corner; never gave them a second look because my agony was more important.
"Are you not happy? I am sorry for making you feel this way. What can I do to change that?"
Her hands cupped my face. I was saddened by my outburst. I wanted to apologize but, my unfamiliarity with the concept of owning to my mistakes, stopped me.
"I have thought about what you said and if this is what you want, I am okay. I am okay with working in your films. The studio I can just...gaah I don't know".
She violently pushed her hair back, trying hard to spit out the words. I could see it was her dream slipping from underneath her feet along with the independence that held her together.
"I guess I could sell the studio. I will make some phone calls".
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"Hello", her voice echoed in the hallway. "Are you still up? Rishabh?"
"I am right here", I wave as Bittuji runs to make sure of her well being.
"I want a frozen yogurt cup. Got one of those?"
She pushes a bar stool in her direction and rests herself down.
"I will serve one right now".
I look intently at the admirable collection of ice cream toppings she had bought for my birthday. The sprinkles, the imported chocolate shavings, the Italian ganash, it was everything I ever craved. I wish I had taken care of her even half as well as she did I.
"How was dinner with Eliza?"
I speak reluctantly after Bittuji takes his leave. She sucks on the almost empty spoon of yogurt and says,
"I didn't f**k the queer boy if that's what you want to know".
My face changes a million colours.
"Madhu, I didn't mean that".
"Quit beating around the bush. I know full well what you meant".
She walks away with her back facing me. The realization dawns on me. I have become a repulsion, a mistake that she cannot erase.
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