Aisha Kapoor
My words must have stunned him because he doesn’t say anything after that. Just kisses me on the forehead and pulls me closer to him.
I keep saying that I don’t need him, that I can spend these three months without him, but I find myself falling short of doing so.
He has this magnetic pull over me, the one that makes me orbit around him constantly.
I have always given him priority over myself, and it has never troubled me.
Never came in the path of what I wanted to be.
But I won’t lie and say that I didn’t lose myself in this relationship.
There came a period of time that I stopped talking to him and stopped taking care of myself because I knew he wouldn’t notice anyway, and that killed a part of me without me even realizing.
Taking the decision of parting ways with him wasn’t just to free us both of the burden of this relationship that was long dead, but also because I wanted to reconnect with myself.
I didn’t like who I became in this marriage; how can I expect him or anyone else to like me?
“I know you are overthinking,” he says, and I close my eyes, inhaling his scent as my head rests against his chest. “Don’t do that.
Nothing changes if you don’t want it to.
I meant it when I said I will do what you want after these three months are over.
But I won’t stop to show you that we are good together, that I can be good to you, and that the past won’t repeat itself.
I love you, and I won’t stop expressing that. Not even if you want me to.”
His words are meant to comfort me, and they do, but the confusion in my mind just intensifies.
What should I do?
“Good night, Reyansh,” I manage to say.
He presses a kiss on top of my head, his arms tight around me.
“Good night, Aisha.”
* * *
I have been avoiding Reyansh since this morning.
I realized overnight that I was doing a shitty job at keeping to myself.
I promised myself that I won’t give in to his attempts, but still I find myself yearning for his touch.
But every time he is near me, every time I become aware of his presence around me, my heart wants to leap out of my chest and run towards him.
And that is bad. Extremely bad. No matter what he says, no matter what he does, the negative thoughts in my mind won’t go away instantly. Just because he says he wants me and that he never stopped loving me doesn’t mean that I instantly believe him.
“Aisha,” he calls my name, and my heart starts beating loudly.
To avoid him, I had started cooking in the kitchen, which is so unlike me from the past few days.
Ever since our moms arrived, I haven’t had to cook anything.
It is a relief, but the longer they stay, the longer I am going to get accustomed to not doing everything on my own, and that is a bad thing.
I know they will have to leave soon, that they are just here because of our divorce. I think I might have figured out how they suddenly planned to visit us at the same time.
My mother would rather eat cold food than sit at her own daughter’s home for too long.
Something about her old upbringing, which is absolutely bullshit, but I know better than to make her do something she doesn’t want to do.
I can’t challenge her beliefs because she simply refuses to acknowledge that they were rooted more in patriarchy and misogyny than in practicality and love.
“Aisha,” he says, his voice stern now, and I turn around to face him. A ball of dough in my hand. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“What?” I fake innocence even though I know he can see right through me. “I am not avoiding you.”
He narrows his eyes, and I begin to turn away, only for him to stop me by pulling me towards him by the waist. I check behind him to see if our moms are there, but it seems like they have chosen to hibernate in their room.
“I am not an idiot,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I am glad you finally understood what I have been trying to tell you for ages,” I say, faking normalcy when actually I am just another one of his touches close to having an attack.
What the hell?
“Don’t be sarcastic, meri jaan,” he says, his head near my face, and while I want to move back, I also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his actions, his nearness, and our physical proximity affect me.
Because it doesn’t, right?
“I know you have been avoiding me,” he says, and I look away because I can’t meet his eyes. He has started to look at me the way he used to in the past. The way I am the only one who exists in his world. That look has played a significant role in my life.
I have always loved the way he looked at me because it made me feel important.
It made me feel as if I didn’t need to do too much to be seen or heard, and after having spent my entire life looking after other people, after only being heard when needed, that healed a part of me I ignored for the longest time.
“I am not avoiding you,” I say, taking a minor step away from him. His hold on me is too strong, and I don’t make it too far. “I am just trying to sort out my thoughts in silence.”
I mean, that isn’t untrue, right?
His eyes soften around the edges, and I take a deep breath. I don’t know what we are doing; I have no clue if we are headed in the right direction or not. All I know is that I have seen how it all plays out with him, between us, and I don’t want to repeat history.
All I know is that I have started feeling safe with him again, and that is not a good indication.
His fingers brush through my cheek, and I suck in a breath, not sure what he is doing. Is he…going to kiss me?
His fingertips brush through my ear before he cups my cheek and brings my face closer to his; dipping his head, he presses a soft kiss on my skin.
God, his touch, his lips feel too good on my skin.
“I know what you are thinking, Aisha,” he whispers against my skin. “I hope you know that I meant every word I said to you last night.”
I remember them all too well. In fact, his words are engraved in my mind by now.
He takes a step back, and I force my mind to not mourn his loss.
“I came here to remind you that Aarav’s event is tonight,” he says, and realization hits me. I totally forgot about it. I also don’t have an outfit for it.
Fuck.
“Oh, I don’t have an outfit for it.” I cover my eyes, and I just know he is judging me.
“Baby, you have a wardrobe full of clothes you have never worn or worn only once,” he says, and I pass him a sharp look.
“You can’t have an opinion on fashion; you wear tailored suits everywhere,” I tell him, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“Fair. All I wanted to let you know was that I have some work to do, and I will meet you there. Aarav will be coming to pick you up.”
I frown. “What work do you have at this hour?”
“Some stuff.”
That’s the vaguest thing he could have said to me. I feel my nerves racking, anxiety bubbling in my chest, and my stomach dipping.
I know he won’t do anything obnoxious after whispering sweet nothings to me, but my faith in him has wavered a lot, and I do not have much faith left in this relationship.
“So, I will be going to a wedding event without my husband, got it.”
I make sure my tone is sarcastic because nothing works better on a man than taunting him about where he is lacking. Sarcasm bruises a male ego better than any sharp words could ever.
“If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t be going.”
“Sure.”
He hesitates to say something after that, and a minuscule part of me actually hopes that he says something. Something to convince me, but he chooses to stay quiet.
And after a few minutes of me not giving him anything to answer to from my side, he finally leaves.
Just like always, I find myself back to square one.
* * *
“Let me put kaala teeka on you,” Maa says after having clicked hundreds of photos of me from that very bad angle that is going to make my face look fatter than it is.
“Maa, do it fast. Aarav said he will be here in five minutes, and you know he cribs a lot,” I say, tired now. I need to sit. This lehenga is heavy, and I haven’t worn this in years and completely forgot that it itches.
My heels are already stubbing my toe, and I need to take them off before I wear them for an entire night of dancing, drinking, and eating.
“Who cares? He will get an earful from me if he cribs out loud,” she says before putting a huge dot behind my ear and kissing my cheek. “You look beautiful.”
I can’t even disagree. I chose to wear a baby pink lehenga, and it actually goes well with my tanned skin.
“I know,” Mom adds. “She looks like a princess. Too bad my son isn’t here to appreciate the beauty. Honestly, his loss.”
I chuckle, but Maa has different opinions.
“He must have had his reason,” she says.
I roll my eyes but don’t say anything. I don’t want to argue about something she won’t agree with me on.
“Nothing should be more important than his Aisha for him. Especially when he is trying to win her back. But he is a man. What can we expect from him?”
Before she can say anything, Aarav’s call breaks the silence, and I take my bag in hand to leave.
“He is here,” I tell them. “Plus, he said he won’t come inside. We are already late. I will see you guys later.”
“Aisha,” Mom calls me one last time before I step out of the door. “For tonight, forget about Reyansh, the divorce, and our expectations.”
I stare at her, perplexed by her words.
“Focus on you. Bring the old Aisha back. Even if only for tonight. You deserve it.”