Chapter 5 #3
They drank their coffee in silence and made their way back to the hospital.
Kaavi’s aunt was reading a book on her Kindle, Kaavi’s mother was staring into space, and Kaavi was working on a list on her phone.
Four more hours to go. Neel wasn’t restless, he was anxious. Everything he’d witnessed tonight was troubling. His family was completely different. He feared Kaavi was going to have another panic attack. She was so emotionless, it scared him.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m listing the offers I got in the last three months.’
‘Offers?’
‘Job offers. Assignments. Gigs,’ she said.
‘You’re going back to modelling?’
It wasn’t his place to tell her what to do because they were not together and he didn’t even know what she’d really been up to since she’d left him, but the thought of her going back into that scene left a bitter taste in his mouth.
‘I thought you loved Rally,’ he ventured.
‘I do, but it’s time to move on,’ she said matter of factly.
He sat back and stretched his legs.
‘I get it. You’re running,’ he said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You’re running. When you’re scared, angry or confused, you run,’ he explained.
She didn’t reply.
Kaavi’s uncle was back and his wife had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. Kaavi needed to stretch her legs so she went for a walk.
‘I’m glad she didn’t tell us about you,’ her mother said.
Neel looked at his mother-in-law.
‘He would have ruined it,’ she added.
‘Mrs Archary, I’m sorry you’re going through this,’ he replied. What else was there to say? He knew nothing to form an opinion about.
‘Kaavi used to ride horses. Did she tell you that?’
‘Yes. She said she had a horse named Ginger.’
‘He sold it because she cut her hair without his permission,’ her mother said dryly.
Neel’s jaw clenched. He would keep his cool. The last thing this woman needed to see was another angry man. But he really wanted to punch Kaavi’s father.
‘I know you love her. I can see it.’
‘I do, Mrs Archary.’
She nodded and looked away.
The hours dragged. When Kaavi got back from her walk, she sat next to Neel. Finally, when the doctors emerged, she didn’t move. She stood frozen, listening, not even blinking. Her uncle held her sobbing mother. Her aunt paced nearby, whispering into her phone.
Neel reached for Kaavi, but she turned and walked away without a word.
He found her in a small garden on the second floor. The sun had already risen. It was 5 am. She looked beautiful as the sunshine touched her long black hair.
‘I love you. Please don’t have a panic attack,’ he said quietly.
She smiled.
‘I know you love me.’
She turned her face towards the sun. She stood there for a few minutes just basking in the sunshine.
‘He wasn’t sorry, you know.’
‘No, I don’t,’ he replied honestly.
‘Before the surgery, he told me he was sorry. He only said it to make himself feel better.’
She swivelled to face Neel. ‘Remember that evening when we met at the dinner gala, I first saw you at the bar. I walked by and when you looked up at me, I knew we were going to end up in a hotel room by the end of the night. I told the model who accompanied me to the gala that it would be a ‘one and done’, but then I heard you on the phone with your mother the next morning. Do you know I think I fell in love with you in that moment? You spoke to her with respect and love. I wanted someone, other than my uncle, grandfather and Sen, to talk to me like that. Because for most of my life, I was …’ She broke off.
She took a deep breath.
‘Let’s go back in,’ she said.
‘Kaavi.’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m sorry about your dad.’
She nodded and walked back into the hospital.
Her father was dead. Kaavi wasn’t sure if coming back to Neel’s house was the right call or even a smart one.
Not after the last couple of hours. She couldn’t make sense of how she felt.
Anyone else would be drowning in grief, anger, heartbreak or sorrow after their father had died. But not her. She felt nothing.
Neel parked in the garage and they stepped out. Inside, she slipped off her shoes beside his in the entrance. She glanced around.
God, she loved this house. She thought of the night he proposed, how he’d promised this place would always be there.
It was a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house, fitted with all the modern comforts.
Clearly the work of an interior decorator, like most homes in Sandton.
But what made it feel like a home were the small, personal touches – like the takeaway pamphlets scattered on the counter, the framed photos of Neel and his family lining the hallway, and the faint smell of his bodywash that lingered.
‘You can use this bedroom,’ Neel said, leading her to the room opposite the master bedroom.
She entered after him. Thick, heavy bottle-green curtains hung from the windows, matching the comforter stretched across the king-size bed.
‘This bedroom was used only once, a couple of months ago when my cousin got married. Relatives from Durban stayed over. I had a week of noisy children and interfering aunts,’ he said without any hint of irritation in his voice.
Kaavi knew Neel loved his family unconditionally and while many would avoid family gatherings, he was always the first to arrive and last to leave – at least that’s what he’d told her.
‘So, does everyone in your family know you’re married?’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘Your extended family,’ she said.
‘Yeah, they do.’
‘And what do they say?’
He gave a short laugh. ‘In the beginning, a bunch of my cousins tried staging interventions to knock some sense into me. Now all my aunts are trying to set me up with their friends’ daughters.’
Kaavi didn’t want to sound jealous, but she asked anyway. ‘And how’s that going?’
He glanced down at his hand. ‘Well, you can’t exactly set someone up who’s still wearing their wedding ring.’
She followed his gaze. The ring caught the light, still snug on his finger.
‘About that,’ she said. ‘Why do you still wear it?’
He shifted his weight, rocked back slightly. ‘If you think it’s because I’ve been waiting for you to come back, it’s not that. I think … I just hate failing. At anything. And taking it off feels like admitting I failed at us.’
‘Neel, do you hate me?’ she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at her for a long moment. ‘I don’t.’
A pause stretched between them.
‘Anyway, Kaavi. You should get some rest. It’s been a rough couple of hours. This isn’t the time for all this. Sleep,’ he said gently.
He left the room without another word.
Kaavi picked up her overnight bag, set it on the bed, unzipped it and began to search for something, anything, comfortable to wear. But her hands became still. She couldn’t bring herself to choose.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. Her father was dead. It was supposed to feel different. She always thought that when the day came, she’d feel … perhaps not relief but peace. Closure. Something lighter. But all she felt was rage.
A raw, simmering anger she couldn’t place.
And now here she was, back in the house she’d once dreamed would be her forever home. With the man she loved. But right now, she’d never felt more alone.
Neel heard the shower running as he stepped out into the backyard.
The morning air was cooler than he’d expected.
He settled into one of the patio chairs and pulled out his phone.
He dialed the number without thinking twice.
Earlier that day, his dad had mentioned in the family group chat that his mother was making chicken curry and if there was one thing certain in life, it was that Natara never missed chicken curry. She was probably at his parents’ place.
Every time he called his mother’s phone, she would put him on speaker the second his dad was nearby. It was their unspoken routine.
He listened to the phone ring.
‘Hello, Neel, my son,’ his mother said. ‘We were just talking about you, wondering what you’re up to in Rally on a Sunday morning.’
Neel hesitated, then finally said it. ‘Mom … I’m actually back home.’
‘Why? Did she sign the divorce papers?’ Natara shouted from the background.
‘Shh,’ his father said.
‘Actually, things have changed,’ said Neel, adding quickly, ‘Don’t talk. Let me explain.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re back together,’ Natara blurted out again.
‘Natara, let him speak,’ his father said, firmer this time.
‘Kaavi’s father passed away,’ Neel said.
His mother’s voice dropped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean … he died.’
‘So why are you in Johannesburg?’ she asked. ‘Shouldn’t you be in Rally with her?’
‘Kaavi’s in Johannesburg too, Mom. Turns out her parents live here. In Randburg.’
‘And you didn’t know this?’ Natara shouted. ‘How could you not know? Do you even know anything about this woman?’
‘Hush now, Natara,’ his mother snapped. ‘Let Neel talk.’
‘Yes, Natara. I didn’t know. They live in Jo’burg. I’m a fool, okay? What more do you want?’
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ his mother said gently. ‘Just where is Kaavi now?’
‘She’s with me.’
‘At the house?’
‘At the house,’ Neel said.
‘What?’ Natara cried. ‘Neel! Are you insane?’
‘Enough, Natara,’ their mother said sharply. ‘Can’t you see things have changed?’
‘Changed? How, Mom?’ Natara snapped. ‘Come on, Neel’s with her. He’s supposed to be getting divorced!’
‘No, Natara. Her father died. This isn’t the time for talk about divorce or who’s staying with whom.
That can wait.’ She paused and in a softer tone, she said, ‘We’re the Narans.
That means something. We show up. We support our own.
That includes her – Kaavi. She’s still our daughter-in-law, whether we knew she existed or not. ’
There was silence and then his father spoke, his voice firm.
‘We’re coming over.’