Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
She woke up in the morning, pressed the button hot black coffee filled her mug. She moved to his room, his door was wide open, the bed was made, everything was neat just like the day he had come. There was a note on the bed and a box of chocolates "Hope everything's in order, have moved shifted to hotel, enjoy the chocolates :)"
She sat on the bed, silent. She thought about yesterday, how happy they were, then the phone call. Why had she gone back to her room, why, she might as well have stayed with him, it would have been a happy night, why had she let that phone call spoil it for them, felt the warmth of the coffee in her hands and realized how used to she had gotten to having coffee ready for her, she had gotten used to his love. She slid down onto the floor and sat with her back against the bed. Looking up at the ceiling she wondered if he had been right about the author. Then she cried.
She didn't call him that day, nor the day after. He messaged her once but she let it pass. Almost a week later he called in the evening, the parents were in the house, she couldn't take the call. He texted "going back to gurgaon, done with my client meetings here, watz troubling you baby, we'll work everything out". A tear filled her eye, she opened a bottle of wine.
She drowned herself in work, work had always been her savior, it blocked out all the other questions in her mind.
She was in a happy mood, it was a saturday, she had cooked south indian for the parents, a deal had just gotten closed. She had heard she was in the reckoning for entrepreneur of the year award, she had bought a new pair of shoes. She called him. It had been three weeks.
"Hi" in her low voice
"Hey" he replied back
And then they talked, they talked and they talked.
"Baby, its been three weeks, you okay? watz kept you away so long, i missed ya"
"I'll make it up to you baby i promise, don't ask me questions please, please" her voice half cried half begged and he cursed himself for managing to do it again.
But two weeks, five smses and 3 missed calls later he wondered. He didn't know what to do. She was his heroine, he found it hard to breathe, hard to live. Unlike her he was a dreamer and he didn't dream about too many things. He sat and wrote Rehaana's story, but each word passed through his heart like a dagger. He knew she was afraid, afraid of being happy, afraid of taking a decision, afraid the pain would begin all over again. But couldn't she feel his love, was it not good enough for her to love him back. She had almost shut him out of her life. From being in his arms she had gone back to try and fight the battle on her own. Where did that leave him?
He got angry, he got depressed. He felt like killing himself, but couldn't there were others who loved him who would be shattered if he did that. He lived, like the living dead. He went to his office he did his work, but there was no longer any point to it. No dreams to make him wake up in the morning and go out and get them. His dream was miles away in Chennai, in an office, busy at work.
She had to win this award she thought. This would be the sign she had always been waiting for. She would show Abhyut what she was made of, that bastard. All those years that she had wasted on him, all her happiness he had ruined. She was going to take that award right from under his nose! The excitment and tension left a pain in her feet. why was she wearing those four inch heels she thought to herself, if only he could have been here he would had made everything alright, he would hold her feet in his hands and tell her nice things.
"Madam, madam" She woke up to the sound of the peon. "Are you asleep madam, should i bring you filter coffee madam"
She had fallen asleep, she smiled at the peon, an old gentleman "Naheen, Rameshwar Kaka, thank you" she also wanted him out of the room. She felt wet between her legs. She thought of going to the washroom (being the boss, she had one in her own cabin) but then she let it be, she liked the feel of his thoughts. She put her specs back on and went back to work.
Later in the evening she felt like calling him, but didn't, she was afraid of his questions. She was afraid of her own questions. Why was she still with her husband. They had stopped being a couple long time back. Whenever she was in US they slept in different rooms. He never came to India cause he didn't want his parents to find out. Probably that, probably because it would be messy and she wanted to avoid anymore grief in her life. She was ok like this, dying one day at a time.
But her hands belied her thoughts "I miss you baby" she texted. It had been eight weeks.
How can she wait that long?
ReplyDeleteWith those who mean a lot to me, patience is not my forte.
WOAH! 8 weeks! I would have sent a million textx by then! :P
ReplyDelete8 weeks??? OMG!!!
ReplyDeleteI hate the 'I-will-kill-myself-day-after-day-cause-I-fail-to-understand-what-I-want' attitude of women. I guess they get some kind of sadistic pleasure out of it. (Or maybe I am sure they do.)
ReplyDeleteKisses.
I'd agree with Siras,
ReplyDeleteI am a mad women when it comes to matters like the above.
hey you, yuou gotta get into woman psychology ;)
but good going here!
@hfm...beats me...evidently it beats u to :P
ReplyDelete@siras...and piss her off even more?
@ki..oh u think 8 weeks is a pain
@LSL...u r on the side of men on this one :)
@Am Desi...really :)
OMGOSH! I am like on the edge of my bed reading this.. She should be ashamed of herself! hahahah!
ReplyDeleteON to the next one!
Ne.