Aisha Kapoor
Ihave this urge to break something or someone’s face. Never in my life have things gone so haywire for me. Never have I ever been so pissed at my mom.
I know she has my best interest at heart, but I can’t help but feel as though she deems me unfit to make decisions regarding my own life. As though she thinks I am still the thirteen-year-old who needs her permission to live her life.
Maybe I still crave her validation, but this was something she shouldn’t have interfered with. I know she has a relationship with him too. The way Reyansh has been able to support her and protect her, I may never be able to. I am well aware of the reality.
While after my father’s demise, our relatives had been a steadfast support, like our backbone, but we also knew that we were nothing more than another liability. My uncles had enough on their plates with their own families, and then there was us, another thing they needed to worry about.
While they never made us feel as such with their words, there was a certain look in their eyes that could never be ignored.
Reyansh’s involvement in our lives not only brought love back into mine, but it also gained us a lot of respect in our extended families.
They worship the ground he walks on and the power he radiates. He is their damad after all.
I know the news of my divorce won’t be well digested by them. Not that I care, but my mother does. And what concerns her concerns me too. But I am not going to let their old mindsets ruin my life.
If I can’t find a sliver of love in this marriage, I won’t stay in it.
I wasn’t expecting my mom to accept our—my decision so easily. But her propositioning that we stay together for three more months wasn’t even on my mind. Don’t just stay; put in effort. I have done all I could to save us. I can’t do more. And I don’t expect much from Reyansh.
“Three months,” he repeats, walking into our bedroom where I sit loathing and grumbling silently. “Three months to reignite our relationship.”
I scoff. “Three months of torture sounds better than whatever bluff you are playing.”
“I am not bluffing,” he says, setting down his phone on the bedside.
“Sure, fool someone else. Our mothers aren’t eavesdropping, so you can cut the crap now.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyes narrowed
I am so fired up right now. I know better than to argue when my blood is so hot, but I can’t help myself around him. I have never been able to control myself when he is concerned.
“I mean that you had no right to lie out there by saying you don’t want a divorce. I thought we agreed on that.”
“You want a divorce,” he points at me, as if correcting me. “I want to give our marriage a chance. I never lied.”
“You said you would do anything for me just minutes before,” I lash out.
“And I did. And I will. I will do anything but let you go. You have to believe me when I say that my life will be worthless without you in it. Call me selfish or whatever, but I can’t give you up. Not without a fight at the very least.”
I shake my head, done with his antics.
“Three months, Aisha. I will fight for you tooth and nail. I will fight even you, if need be.”
“That’s what you will have to do anyways, Reyansh. I won’t give up either. I won’t make these three months easy for you too.”
“I don’t mind, Aisha.”
“I will make these three months hell for you, Reyansh. I mean it.”
“Hell with you will be my heaven, Aisha. I mean it.”
* * *
I have had trouble sleeping for the past few months. I suppose the comfort and silence that would engulf me usually when Reyansh was around was affected deeply once he started coming late at night from work.
Now, I pretend to be sound asleep as he steps out of the washroom, freshly showered and, I bet, looking like a five-star meal.
What can I say? I am a woman with needs. Needs I never had until I met my husband.
I close my eyes tightly as I hear him rounding the bed. I try to calm down my ever-beating heart and slow my breaths so that he doesn’t get to know that I am wide awake.
He must be looking at me because my body reacts on its own, turning as hot as a furnace, my nerves getting the best of me.
Shut it. I tell myself internally. It is not the first time I am sharing the bed with my half-naked husband.
I clench my hands tightly, resting under my chin. I feel him get under the covers, his body still hot from his steaming shower.
I hope that he turned away from me, but to my surprise, he speaks to me.
“I know you are not asleep,” he says, and my heart speeds up. “Or maybe you are asleep and your body reacts to my presence. I have always loved the effect my presence has had on you.”
Dick.
“I just want to say something I could not before,” he says, and my curiosity spikes up.
“I wanted to say that there have not been many good things in my life. Nothing worthwhile or something I should be remembering. But if there’s one memory that I keep revisiting, it is the day I laid my eyes on you. ”
He sighs, and while I hate it, a corner of my ice heart starts melting.
No matter how mad or hurt I may be at him, I will never ever be able to hate the days we spent together.
The day our eyes connected was six years ago.
The best days of my life. Not only because I got to live my London dream, but also because I fell for him.
Falling for Reyansh was never a mistake. It could not be.
“The day you looked at me was the third best day of my life. You know why? Because the second was when I got to kiss you for the first time. Only I know how hyperventilated I was after that. The first one is and always will be when I got to marry you finally and call you my wife. Nothing beats that. Correction—nothing can beat that.”
He sighs, and I feel his fingers inch towards my face.
My heart comes to life with even the lightest hint of his touch.
I have never been immune to his touch anyways.
He tucks my slightly loose hair behind my ear, and my eyes water up slightly.
It has been so long since we have had a moment to ourselves.
A moment where all we have done is admire each other, sit in silence, and just appreciate that in a world so cruel, we get to experience each other’s company.
He rests his palm on my cheek, his thumb going up and down smoothly on my soft skin. He inches closer to me, and with his other hand, he pulls me closer to himself by my waist.
Up close, I can smell his body wash and feel the heat of his skin.
“There’s no person luckier than me, I can guarantee that.
And I am also not a loser or dumb enough to let you go, the one and only best thing in my life.
I agree; I did a sore loser’s job at making you feel appreciated.
The distance between us kept growing—with us both trying to achieve our dreams, and I did nothing to bridge it.
I just didn’t know how to. My EQ is lower than a teaspoon, you know that. ”
I bite back the urge to smile. For once, I need him to go on. I need to hear what he has to say.
I might never give him the chance otherwise.
“I love you, Aisha. I love you so, so much. It hurts right here in my chest to think you want out of this marriage. I know you are just tired, hurt, and fed up. I don’t buy the fact that you don’t love me.
That’s bullshit. I say this with pride: I am the only man you have ever loved. And I am not going to let that slide.”
He stops, and I wonder if that’s it, but then he does something I wouldn’t expect him to.
He leans up and presses a kiss on my forehead, lingering there for a minute. Then his lips move down on each of my eyes. The right one first, then the left one. Then my right cheek and then the left one.
When I think he will kiss me directly on the lips, he moves away, leaving me disappointed, and the fact that I feel that way after all this time pisses me off.
“I will reclaim our first kiss again. You will give it to me, and I will do so happily. Just like I will reclaim you in my life. I will earn your love back. I know I will. You just wait, my love.”
I bite my lips involuntarily. I don’t know how to feel about this. Is that a challenge or the truth? I don’t know.
What I know is that I wasn’t able to survive the storm named Reyansh Carter six years ago.
I doubt I will be able to now.
“I love you, Aisha. Good night.”
Saying this, he goes to sleep, his hand still tight on my waist.
But sleep is the last thing on my mind.
Reyansh Carter is the one that roams instead.