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Manik

I sat on the small jhoola in the balcony of our room smoking a cigarette as the city drowned outside, while Nandini put Mia to sleep in the room. She'd slept late last night and woken up in the middle of her sleep when her paranoid mother decided to get her out of her sleepover simply because there was a brewing thunderstorm, and that had made her cranky.

When I heard the sliding doors behind me creakingly open, I reflexively threw the half burnt cigarette, crushing it beneath my shoes with an unnecessary annoyance.

"Mia's asleep," Nandini let me know, "Can I join?"

I didn't answer. I simply moved away from the centre, making space for her on the other side.

She silently slid beside me, our sides almost touching. "This place is getting a little suffocating."

I raised an eyebrow at her. Nandini grew up comfortable, but never rich. She was never one to complain about a small hotel room or having to adjust, that was always me.

It took me a second more to realise that the place wasn't getting suffocating because it was small, it was because I was there with her.

"Cabir will come pick us up when the rain slows and water on the road clears a little," I informed her, trying not to let the hurt seep into my tone. "You won't have to be here for much longer."

She didn't reply. She just stared ahead at the grey skies and rains falling onto the garden our balcony was overlooking, hugging the towel closer to her.

"Are you cold?"

"I was sitting in the heater inside for a long time while putting Mia to sleep. I'm okay," She replied, her voice toneless. "Are you?"

"I'm okay too."

Once again, silence prevailed.

This time, I wasn't going to be the one to break it. Silence didn't hurt as long as she was sitting in it with me. Some of the things she said, on the other hand, were loud and more hurtful than the Nandini I knew could ever be.

After a few minutes, she spoke up. "I didn't ask him to come because he's not Mia's father, Manik. You are."

I shut my eyes almost as soon as her words were out, my brain fogging. Him. Aryamman. The guy who's house I picked my estranged wife up at in the middle of the night and didn't even have time to hurt about it, because I was surrounded by her. Her scent. Her voice. Her presence. And when she was here, she was all I could think about.

I had let that tiny detail slip back into my head in the frustration of the road blockage and my car breaking down and then my daughter acting a little strange, but now it was here.

Out in the open.

We were talking about him.

"Is he a good guy?"

"What do I know?" She replied, "He seems decent. But I don't know too much."

"You knew him enough to be at his house last night." Even though I tried not to, my voice was accusatory. There was hurt, and a certain coldness and emotions that even scared me.

Her head snapped towards me. "You have no right."

I scoffed. "I am still your husband. By law."

"Not for long." She reminded me, and it hurt. Every word ached. Her pressing for a divorce ached. I lost Nandini a long time ago, then why did this feel like I was losing her all over again?

"Yeah, not for long." I monotonously agreed, masking my hurt by indifference. "The divorce papers are ready. I dropped them at your place last night. You would've known if.."

If you were there, I wanted to say. I didn't.

Nandini remained silent for a bit, a little too long for my liking.

"He's just a friend." She whispered.

"A friend you're dating?"

I had to look at her to see she was shaking her head negatively. "I think he just pities me."

I chortled with sarcasm. "You? The prettiest, strongest and most amazing mother and woman I know? He pities you?"

She looked back at me, and I didn't realise how close we were until we were both staring at each other and it was the first time in years that she was there. Right there. Her face just below mine, out sides touching and if I leaned a little towards her... just a little...

"You really think I'm all that?" She asked, her voice nothing more than a mumble.

"No," I reply, well aware my breath was fanning her face, "I think you're more than that."

"Manik," She just breathed. I could see the light tears swell in her eyes. I could see her breath hitch. I could hear the unsaid words.

"It hurts, Nandini. The thought that you slept in another man's house, hurts." I wanted to be honest with her, so brutally honest.

"I didn't want to. It was raining so much so we decided to eat dinner and wiat it out in a cafe and when it never stopped raining till after midnight, he offered me the extra room in his house since he lived just across the street. I had to take it because there were no cabs and my car is at service and Chacha Chachi don't know how to drive."

I breathed, "Why didn't you call me? Or Cabir?"

"I called Cabir. Before I could ask him for his help, he mentioned he was having a date night with Navya at her place. I didn't.. I didn't want to bother them then." 

"And me?"

She just stared at me, her lips in a thin smile that forced upon her herself, softly raising her shoulders. "It didn't feel right anymore."

"No. No. No." I tell her, voice suddenly firm. "It's right, baby. It's always right. There is no world where you and I aren't right. There is no world where you'd call me and I wouldn't burn the entire city to make sure that the flames kept you warm. It's always right to call me, okay?"

"Mh-hm." She buzzed in a quiet nod, finally tearing her eyes away from me and looking up to drink away her tears. Once composed, she looked back at me. "You've never asked such questions before." A quiet observation. Nothing gets past her.

"The thought always lurked in the back of my head since we separated, as a what-if. Every time I went to a bar with a few friends and saw some random girl making eyes at me or offering me a drink or trying to flirt her way into my head, all I would sit back and think was the hundred ways in which I would break every bone of the man who tries to do the same to you."

I could see surprise flicker in her eyes, and then a certain hurt. "Women used to hit on you?" She asked, and then scoffed. "Of course they used to. You're... you."

One corner of my lips slightly raised. "I'd almost be flattered by that if I wasn't so offended by the assumption you're making here."

She looked away, the way she often did when she was about to lie. "I'm not making any assumption!" Her voice was a little hasty and squeaky, as if we were teenagers again. I almost saw a glimpse of an old Nandini, the one who belonged to me.

"Sure, you aren't," I smiled. "I never acted on it, Nandini."

She eyed me suspiciously. "Never?"

"Not even for a fleeting second or in my drunk state did I ever have a momentary lapse of judgement." I promised her, voice form and reassuring. I could see her visibly relax. "I have loved you and been loyal to you since the day I have learnt what love is. I don't know how to exist in a world where I don't belong to you anymore, where you aren't the only woman in the world who has touched me and has the right to touch me. I... I don't know, Nandini, I feel lost."

With every word I spoke, I could see the mask she had built on her face over the years slip out little by little.

I was brutally honest with her.

It had been a long time since I was honest with her. I didn't know what made me be today, maybe it was the fear of losing her, or the realisation that I already had lost her years ago.

We were just about to make it permanent.

And I didn't want it.

"Why did you let me go if you loved me so much?" She whispered, her voice a new kind of broken, her eyes searching mine for answers even I didn't know.

"I was a fool," I told her, "I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you shine and yes, you did shine but I... I can't let you go, Nandini. I can't let you be someone's else's."

"I'm not moving on to someone else, Manik," She reminded me gently. "And I don't want you to want me just because you think I am."

"It's not just that." I'm the one who looks away this time, as if the right words were written somewhere in the pouring rain or the garden grass.

"Then what is it?"

"I.. I don't know." I reply, huffing out air from my mouth. I needed a cigarette. "I mean, I'm obviously bothered by the thought of you moving on. Bothered? Heck, I think my world fell apart when you asked me to pick me up from his house, and I had to control the urge to go all caveman and mark my territory or some shit."

She scrunches her nose, probably thinking of what an exaggeration I was making, not knowing every word was true.

I could kill for her.

"But it's not just that." I add, "It's more."

"Don't tell me."

"What?"

"Don't tell me, please." Her voice is barely audible.

"W- Why?"

"For years, you shut yourself to me completely. You haven't spoken to me this much in months how much you spoke to me today. And you're being so..."

"Old me?" I finish for her.

"Old you." She passes me a feeble smile. "And it's doing things to my head. After years of contemplating the decision, I finally make my mind up for divorce. And I don't want what you're saying to change it."

I take in a sharp breath. "I understand."

Oh, the irony. She wanted the divorce.

But of course, I knew that if I didn't want it, it wasn't going to be as simple as a communicative conversation one day after all the years of hurting you. It was going to take so much more, and I hadn't even told her out loud yet that I didn't want the divorce.

I was just running that thought in my head, going back and forth.

She tried studying my expression for a few seconds, and when I gave her nothing, she looked away and then got up from the jhoola we were at. "Thank you," She pulled a polite smile, walking away.

"But Nandini?" I called.

"Hm?"

"I need to..."

She turned. "What?"

I get up behind her. "I can't let you go without doing this once."

Her eyebrows knit, but before she could voice her confusion, I was there. I was in front of her, making her almost jump behind, her back touching the wall.

"Manik," she whisper-warned, trying to walk out, but I caged her by putting my hand on the wall.

I stared at her, aware my breath was fanning her.

For years, I kept all my desires locked in. For years. And now suddenly, I was starved.

I was starved for her. For a taste of her. Even if it was one last time.

And she wanted it too.

Her tongue slightly licked her lips before they parted and her heart, it was beating so erratically, I could hear it.

"Manik," she whispered again, but this time, it wasn't to get away. It was permission. "Please."

"Please what, baby?" I murmured, "Ask me to let you go and I will. Or tell me to kiss you, Nandini, and I will."

Her eyes dazed. "Kiss me."

And so, I did. I dipped my head and touched my lips on hers, so gently at first, wondering if I had forgotten how it felt, how she tasted.

But I hadn't.

She was still everything the same. Strawberry taste and a softness which was mine to claim.

I hadn't forgotten her. Kissing her was like muscle memory, and there was nothing gentle anymore about the way I forced her deeper into the wall, my hand wrapping around her throat and then cupping her cheek, and the way her her tugged on my hair, pulling me closer as if never wanting me to stop.

Oh, my baby.

Kissing her was like a wanderer finally walking home.

Oxygen was the only demand when I pulled away, resting my head on hers.

"This isn't right," She mumbled softly, panting.

I kissed her again in response, a little more harshly. And she met me with equal vigour, her breath hitching even in the kiss when my hand wrapped around her back, playing with the hem of her shirt on her back and slipping inside, gently drawing patterns on her skin until she melted into my arms completely.

It took every ounce of strength in me to not tear apart that thin shirt she was wearing and leave marks all over her body, and then fuck her into oblivion.

But I had already taken something I didn't deserve by kissing her, and I certainly didn't deserve more.

When I pulled away, there were slight tears glazing her eyes. I stared into them- trying to understand if they were happy tears, sad or just nostalgic. But she gave nothing away, so I stepped back, putting a respectful distance between us.

"Thank you for letting me go," she said, and then moved inside without giving me another glance.

There was a havoc wreaking inside me as I sat back in the balcony instead of following her into the room as I was initially planning to.

She was wrong. There was no letting her go.

I may be a fool to do it once, but I couldn't do it twice.

I wasn't going to let Nandini go, because there was no living in a world where she wasn't mine.

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