Chapter 3
I lay in bed, trying to make sense of my mundane day and its eventful disclosures. On my elliptical side table, under the faint light of my Disney lamp, there rest my future. The struggles and hardships, the ease and comfort, whatever there was to be...my fate had been left in the power of words printed in black copy ink. The appointment letter yawned at my discomfort. Sleek in black.
Times New Roman size 12 font. It wasn't hard to tell.
I'd seen it enough times on Mumtaz. Despite his barbaric life style, he was pretty fussy about that kind of stuff.
From semi-suburban Fawnington, the disobedient lines that ran across my palms had decided to draw me a path down south. On the shore.
It would be warm there, no need for the winter coats that have been subconsciously collected over the years.
I would break the news to dad tomorrow after dinner. It'll be nice for him, nice warm weather like his ol' India. He's always complaining about the ridiculous snow we got up here.
Amidst all of this, Zoe was sacrificing herself for Zoya and her future as Ms. Farooqui. Zoe would be buried somewhere under the mess of Apartment 26. She'd hope to get lost, but she knew he'd separate her into "Important Stuff" when she wasn't looking.
I'd be teaching freshman. In a way I'd be able to relate to them, thrown out of middle school where friends you've known all your life drift away while you settled in the Library with your journal in hand and a pencil you were too lazy to sharpen. It'd be foreign at first, eventually a habit, but never home. Home was sitting in Ms. Peggy's 3rd grade class looking out the window waiting for recess so you could go grab the only good pair of jump-ropes first.
An endless and unfortunate cycle. The actual circle of life.
***
He didn't bother cleaning up much today, the coffee he had generously prepared left on the floor getting only colder by the minute.
"So when are you going?"
I was taken by surprise, I didn't expect him to begin.
"I still have all summer,"
"That's a nice way to euphemize 3 weeks, thanks for telling me so early," he pulled out his sarcastic nevertheless smile. His eyes might have rolled but his smile was there. It would be alright.
"We'll probably start packing up by this week. Mariyah's mom apparently grew up there, she found a place walking distance from the school. The rent's decent and the community almost nonexistent."
"Your lease doesn't expire till next month though,"
"I negotiated with the landlord, it's all taken care of."
"He's letting you off the hook?"
"No, I'm paying the fine and the month I skipped over's rent, but I mean in the end it'll be worth it,"
"I hope so Zoe," he swallowed. It looked far less painful than it must have been.
It was the first time I'd heard his voice tremble. It reminded me of Ma. Well, what I knew of my Ma.
"I'm sorry," was all I could gather. Although unfortunately, there wasn't any truth behind the two words. I was undeserving and ungrateful, there was nothing that could be done. "I'm really sorry," a broken heart lied once again.
"No you're not Zoe," he finally looked at me. I wanted to savor the feel of his paradoxical hands but all I could think about was how this would be one of the last. His confused caress that made my cheeks swell with joy only added to my unapologetic sorrow. "I know I'm not your first priority. You never kept me in the dark about it, I chose to love you," he implied once again. I might as well accept that perhaps the words were never meant to be said, "And I don't regret that nor do I need you to...agonize...like this...over me. Not the first nor your second," he repeated.
By then the first tears after a long drought emerged. He didn't bother wiping them away knowing very well I could when it felt necessary. "Maybe not even your third," he bravely continued, "...but I'm there somewhere. I'm not particularly thrilled with the turn these events have brought but the last thing I need is to see you apologizing for who you are," he was frustrated and beaten down. We'd leave it at that.
It was 10 past 12, but today even that wasn't enough.
"The hurricanes hit pretty bad down south," he whispered.
And even now, thanks to him, there was a cleverly planted smile on my face.
"They do."
*** A/N: ... -Shweta Edited by -ForeverYours- - 11 years ago
Cricket
Kumkum Bhagya
124