PART 1
He was restless.
It was not an unfamiliar feeling to him, for there was a time in his life when restlessness was always his state of being. However these past few months had made this a foreign feeling for him.
Ishita. It was ironic that the sole reason why he no longer was restless anymore, was the cause of his current impatience.
Pouring himself ice-cold water from the pitcher left by his bedside, Raman walked towards the couch. Ever since his wife had come into his life, demanding a part in his life, by the means of giving his daughter her share of happiness, there had been a sense of contentment in his life.
Sure, they fought, they argued, and she lectured while he taunted, but it was his perfection. I thought she knew this; he roused, while swirling the water in his cup.
When a heart was as bruised as his, and when a soul as battered as his own, he had to be careful, be guarded, he rationalized.
With a heavy sigh, he put the still full glass of water on the floor next to the couch - which his wife had made into her bed - as he slumped down, exhausted with his thoughts.
His past relationship with Shagun had not been a secret, heck he had 2 kids to prove it. Nor had Ishita's relationship with Shubbu been a secret. But ever since Ishita had mentioned Shubbu again, he could not rest. What had she told him? Love. First love.
Didn't she know how he felt? Didn't she realize that his heart shattered the minute she mentioned Shubbu. That he hadn't expected her to bring him up, as if she still pined of him. It had unnerved him. Made him want to reach for her, and demand that she take it back. Demand that she confirm that she no longer thought about him, wished for him, and most of all love him.
Because he loved her. he didn't know when it happened. Perhaps it had happened when she had unquestioningly helped him with Adi's court case. Perhaps it had happened sooner, when she made chicken for his family upon his aunt's insistence. Perhaps it had happened when she had selflessly agreed to marry him - a beastly arrogant man - for his daughter. Or perhaps it had happened when she'd given his daughter herself, a mother.
...Or perhaps it had happened when she'd first scolded him, reminding him of his responsibilities as a father, and showing him how to love again.
He didn't know when it had happened, but it had, and it scared the living devil out of Raman. After his failed marriage Raman had promised himself never again. Never would he love as again, and never would he give himself wholeheartedly to anyone - for people he had fast learned, never were faithful. Instead, he'd given his full to his work, and he had loved only his fast and hard earned success. And that suited him just fine. Buried under his work, he did not have to emote; he did not have to care. The more successful he got, the less people expected him to feel, as they labeled him a busy man, and refused to bother him. Sure, it was a boring life. He came home to cold food, and an even colder bed, but that was fine. It meant he was safe from allowing himself from being hurt.
And then came in Ms. Iyer shaking the foundation of his new, and empty life. She came into his life, changed things around, made herself at home in his room, and most importantly in his heart, and then had the audacity to mention Shubbu.
God he loved that woman, and she loved some moron. How fitting. Thank you God, for once again screwing things up. If you'd just stop playing with my love life, that'd be great.
Love. She had loved him. For 12 years. It wasn't that he was unaware of Shubbu's existence, but Raman always imagined him to be a loser. For which man would have someone as caring, someone as nurturing, someone as giving, someone so bloody perfect as Ishita, and give her up. Must be a special kind of Madrasi stupid, Raman mused, as he smiled his first smile in hours. Idiot. Blind. Just plain dumb.
Vaaise, sirf ek Punjabi meri Ishita ko jhael sakta. Koi Madrasi mein itna jasbah kahan. No Subramaniyam would have been able to bring out the Jansi Ki Rani within his wife, and that was his favourite bit about her. Bloody dosa eating and vada dipping in chutney fool. It would, he concluded, have taken only a Raman Kumar Bhalla, to wife an Ishita Iyer.
It renowned courage, Raman knew what he had to do. Clearly he had given his dentist wife too much credit. Pfft. Pata tha mujhe. Koi sahi wali doctor nahi hai who, warna itni behwakhoof kaise hoti. He needed to spell it out for her. he needed to finally put his guard down, tell her he loved her, and just pray that she didn't stomp on his heart.
As if. I'm bloody well charming, good looking. How could she ever say no.
Thinking about his game plan, Raman picked up the glass of cold water, and poured it on the sofa. He hated this damned thing, hated it even more every time Ishita slept there. They had a king sized bed, and she chose to contort her body in an awkward way to fit herself on the couch as if Raman wouldn't be able to control himself.
She isn't that far away from the truth, Bhalla, Raman considered and laughed into the empty room.
Just as he was done ruining her beloved "bed", the woman who'd occupied his thoughts walked in.
"Oh there you are! Why didn't you come outside to watch some TV with the family? Waise, I figured you were doing some work. Busy ho na aaj kal. Mihika was telling me even Mihir is busy. Anyways Ruhi has decided to let her Romi chachu put her to sleep tonight, and I was getting bored watching the news with Papaji... why are you looking at me like that?"
Raman gave himself a mental shake, and stop smiling at her stupidly. God, he loved her. His wife that said about 90 words per minute, and lectured as a headmistress. Wipe that grin off your face, Bhalla. You aren't some teenager. Gosh, do this was style. Oh, also. Give Romi a raise at work, and put storytime with Ruhi daily as part of his job requirements.
Walking past her, to lock the bedroom door, Raman ignored her question. For what was he supposed to say?
Ishita had ignored his move, as she had gone to the bathroom to change. While she was gone, Raman made sure the couch was still wet, and sat on the bed, awaiting his wife's return. When she walked out, wearing a newer salwar suit, he patted the spot next to him.
"I spilled water on the couch a few minutes ago. Sorry" liar, liar pants on fire, Bhalla didn't you know?
"Oh, that's fine. I suppose I could go and sleep with Ruhi tonight" Ishita made a move to get up off the bed
Quicker that he thought possible, Raman grabbed for her wrist, "NO! I mean no. sleep here. With me. Wait, this came out wrong. I mean yes, sleep. With me, but next to me. Or with me, your choice, I wont say no. I wouldn't mind that." Shut up, Bhalla, stop talking. Maybe pass out, and fake an illness. Never mind, too late, your wife now thinks you're an idiot. Congratulations for screwing things up.
When she didn't say anything for the single most insufferable moment of his life, Raman gave himself a mental shake, and decided to man it up. Realizing he still had hold of her wrist, he loosened the pressure, but started to make tiny circles on the inside of her palm. When she shivered, the slightest bit, Raman felt as if he had just passed the biggest hurdle of his life. It pleased him to know that he effected her.
"You can't leave. We need to talk"
Ishita did not know what was wrong with Raman, but this sounded serious. Plus he looked all flushed and flustered. Maybe he was coming down with the flu. Aware of her hand still a prisoner in his, she turned to face him slightly better, touching her knees with his.
"Yes Raman, what's wrong"
Ignoring her question, Raman decided on how he was going to do this. "Ishita, I'm mad at you"
Not in a million years had Ishita expected this. Mad at her? Why? She hadn't done anything to upset him. Or had she. Going thorough every single detail in her mind, her eyes widened, as she scraped her bottom lip with her teeth.
Was she trying to kill him, with that sudden erotic move? Clearing his throat, Raman continued, "I'm mad at you for what you said about Shubbu."
And with that, he leaned in, softly placed his lips on hers, and bit into her bottom lip, just as she gasped. Why let the wife gnaw at her lips, when he could do it for her?
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