The Accidental Wife (19 page)

Torn

S
pring was in the air. Soon the cherry blossoms would be in resplendent display all over the city. The warblers were already creating a ruckus in the trees and the squirrels and chipmunks were running amuck in the backyards and open spaces. New Yorkers were out and about, taking advantage of the brilliant sunshine, flaunting their brand new shorts, Ts and tank tops, even though the temperatures barely grazed 50. Never mind, they said, it was the spirit that mattered. And the spirit was so strong that it touched everyone, from the na
ï
ve infant, to the old and infirm, and it was so pervasive that it seeped into the tiniest nook and recess of every dwelling; all except for one, where winter and its attendant gloom still prevailed unscathed.

Rihaan sat in the living room of his apartment with the curtains drawn and his weary eyes closed, wishing for some kind of miracle, invoking all the various supernatural forces out there to bequeath him with at least a few hours of blessed sleep. Odd for a man who prided himself on his mental agility, to pray for senselessness. But he was beat. Wiped out. His mind had been operating on overdrive for over six days now without any respite in sight. It was as if he’d been confronted with a particularly confounding case, that he, as a physician, was supposed to solve, but with the key clue missing. And it was driving him insane as he asked himself over and over again:
Why? Why had she left?

Six days ago, on the night after that fateful Valentine’s, he had made his way back to his apartment—late. He knew Naina would be getting edgy. He had asked her to wait for him so they could go to her place together to get her things. He planned to apologize profusely for his rude behavior. And to supplement it, he was going to present her with a bouquet of fresh spring flowers as well as a sumptuous take-out from their favorite restaurant.

No cooking tonight my darling, just making love…wild inebriated love. As for your stuff, we’ll get them tomorrow
. He was sure she’d understand.

Prior to leaving work, he’d had a long talk with his chief. The man had taken him aside—Rihaan had been preparing all day for it—and demanded an explanation for last night’s fiasco. And Rihaan, not knowing what else to say, had told him the truth.

But instead of reprimanding him and throwing him out of the practice or giving him the dressing down he deserved, his boss, to Rihaan’s surprise, had simply smiled.

Perhaps, Rihaan thought as he mulled over it, the older, more experienced man had dealt with something similar in his life. He let him off with a mere rap on the knuckles and then switching gears, had thumped him on the back, even giving him a couple of days off.
What bloody luck!

But when he didn’t find Naina in the apartment, all the exhilaration he felt was blown away. And when none of his calls or texts seemed to go through, he struck out, on a mad dash across town to her place, triggered by a sense of tremendous urgency, as the letter she’d left on the kitchen counter made no sense at all. It read like some cryptic puzzle.

She’d written—

Rihaan,

I don’t know how to say this. I’ve pondered over it for a long time and this is how I feel. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to move in back together. You’ve always said how much you value your independence…well, so do I. I’ll get in your way and you’ll get in mine. It’s bound to happen, no matter how hard we try. We shouldn’t rush to fritter away the rest of our lives, just on the basis of one night of passion. Let it remain a sweet memory. As for our marriage, I’m sure you will agree that it was an unfortunate accident.

Goodbye,

Naina

The sucker-punch delivered by the cold and calculating letter had left him nearly breathless. But not for one moment did he believe those words. They weren’t at all like the woman he’d come to know; who, that very morning, had flipped over his chest and admonished him playfully when he’d expressed the need for a larger bed.

“No Rihaan, we don’t. Because I want every excuse to hold you close.” She wouldn’t have said so if she hadn’t meant for them to be together. The candor in her eyes was undeniable. Then what had happened in the interim?

“Never mind!” he told himself. “Whatever it is doesn’t matter, because when I see her, I’m going to drop down on my knees, beg for her forgiveness, pour my heart out, declare my affection, clear all the differences, talk about the future, our lives, children, pets, etcetera. I’ll reassure her that she can rely on me; I’ll be there through thick and thin. I’ll never let her down, or leave her to face the world on her own. She can nag me as much as she pleases. I wouldn’t mind at all…at least I’ll try my best not to.”

He was sure they could hash out a reasonable agreement. Naina was by no means an idiot and neither was he.

Thus galvanized, he jumped out of the car as soon as it drew to a halt and sprinted up the stairs, taking them three at a time, then knocked hard on her door, shouting, “Naina open up! It’s me, Rihaan! Get off your high horse and stop whining like a baby! I know that you love me and guess what, I love you, too.”

Silence.

“A lot!”

More silence…

“Oh c’mon already! Enough’s enough.”

But as the minutes ticked by, the affected bravado was supplanted by grave anxiety and the demands by desperate cajoling. He sank down to the floor, head down between his knees, puzzled and bewildered, unable to understand what in the world was going on, or what he was being punished for.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. He must have fallen asleep for the very next thing he knew, it was 4 a.m., when he heard the loud THWACK of the newspaper landing in the neighbor’s front yard.

Cursing and berating himself loudly for precious time lost, he made his way back across the East River. But instead of going home, he headed straight to her workplace where he camped outside the building waiting for some sign of activity.

In the meantime, he analyzed, reanalyzed, and worried about her.

Perhaps she was put off by his selfishness. Yes, he was an incredibly self-centered guy. She was scared by his intensity. His possessiveness made her nervous, he could see that. He was going to try his best not to encroach on her space. She could dictate the terms of their relationship. He was willing to give up anything as long as she didn’t insist on them living apart, because now she was a part of his life—she was his missing link. And he wanted her in it at all costs.

But when the office opened, he discovered that she’d left yesterday as part of a group touring the war zones of the Middle East and Arab states over a span of several weeks, the middle-aged secretary reeled out as if she was reading the six o’clock news. Naina had been the last to join though, taking the place of someone who had dropped out at the last minute.

And when he inquired about the itinerary, the woman pleaded ignorance. The trip was for the most part an unplanned one, not atypical for journalists visiting foreign countries who often find themselves at the mercy of their local contacts. And the same held true for communication as well.

“Usually they’ll call me first, but only when and if they choose to. Can’t force them, they are all adults, you see,” she said with a knowing smile.

“Yes they are,” he agreed. “Independent adults.”

The woman, appearing to sense his unusual level of agitation, promised to call him as soon as she had more information.

On the way out Rihaan stumbled upon Maria. She appeared shocked by his despondent appearance.

He asked her if she had any idea about why Naina could have left.

“When I saw her last she was very happy that we were going to be together.” He didn’t tell her about the note.

She didn’t look very concerned. “You know that she loves you?”

“Yes.”

“And you her?”

“Of course!”
Though I haven’t declared it in so many words.

Her smile was genuine. “Then trust in your love. Support her. Sometimes there are things we’ve to deal with on our own, things that need time and shouldn’t be hurried. But ultimately everything clears up.”

But nothing had cleared up, despite nearly a week having gone by.

Rihaan sighed,
If only I knew why.

He was startled out of his reverie by a loud knock on the door. It was his mother, the last person he wished to see.

“What’s with that beard and long hair? You look like a hippie, Rihaan. I hope you’re not smoking hashish.”

“Why didn’t you call me first?” he asked as she ducked past him into the hall.

“Because you would make some excuse as always not to see me. Anyway, my business is with my
bahu.
Where is she and why isn’t she answering my calls. I want her to organize a grand Sai festival at our house.”

He rolled his eyes. “She isn’t taking your calls because she is not here. She’s out on a tour.”

“Tour? For whom?”

“Work. She’ll be gone…for several weeks.”

Shobha didn’t look convinced. “Did she inform you?”

“Yes, of course she did.” He avoided her eyes.

“Then why do you look so miserable? And just look at this place! When did you start reading international newspapers?” she demanded, catching sight of the dailies strewn everywhere. “What happened to your diet? Is this all you’re eating?”

She held up a power bar wrapper. “I don’t understand. You weren’t like this before. What’s wrong between you two? You’re keeping something from me.”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“There is something fishy, about your marriage, and about Naina. I can feel it. If you don’t tell me now, I’ll call Rudy and find out. He’s your best buddy, isn’t he?” She began rummaging in her purse for her phone.

“
Was
. He was my best buddy. Not anymore,” Rihaan said stopping her. “I will tell you everything you need to know.”

And he did…about the whole snafu, stressing on his own role in it; about his makeshift marriage with Deepika and then with Naina (sparing the sordid details) in a most lucid and succinct way.

His mother listened quietly, her expression waffling between shock, dismay and disbelief.

“And that’s that,” he said, feeling a tremendous weight lift off his shoulders.

“Oh my poor Rihu. How you’ve suffered!” she cooed, rushing to his side and clutching his head to her bosom. “Good riddance!”

He disengaged himself. “What did you say?”

She smiled. “I said good riddance. I knew it from the beginning. She looked too good to be true and I was right. She’s nothing but a gold digger and a sly opportunist. She used you to get here. She and her friend, Deepika, plotted it somehow. Anyhow it’s over. Forget about her and start over. She’s not even your wife.”

Rihaan was taken aback. He couldn’t believe his mother had harbored such thoughts. “I can’t forget her. She
is
my wife. And it’s legal. I just got back the annulment papers I’d mailed to Deepika weeks ago, signed and sealed.”

“Then divorce her.” His mother seemed unmoved. “Our family solicitor will draw up the papers. My son, I assure you, there’ll be no trouble.” She stroked his face.

He pushed her hand away. “For godsakes, Mother, don’t you get it? I love her! Besides, marriage is not a ritual or a sheet of paper, it’s a meeting of hearts.” He couldn’t believe he was repeating Naina’s words, but he was determined to tell his mother how he felt. “A convergence of two souls and I’ve lost mine to Naina. It’s just a matter of time before we’ll be together again. Now please leave me alone!”

***

Several days later…

The secretary at
Landscape
, true to her word, kept Rihaan updated regarding Naina’s movements as often as she could. She also provided him with a number that he could call in order to get through to her, but cautioned that it was likely to become nonfunctional without notice— ‘the fickleness of modern communication,’ she’d said.

He found himself stuck in an unusual predicament, a situation that offered no simple or straightforward solutions and it was frustrating to say the least. Immediate instinct clamored for prompt action—call and ask her to come back. But thinking it over made him hesitate.

He tried composing several letters where he declared his affection and attempted to reason with her, but then chose not to mail them. He didn’t want to clip her wings or stifle her, neither did he want to impose his will upon her or restrict her independent spirit—just as he wouldn’t want his own restricted. All he wished to convey was that his affection was real and unconditional, even though he was certain there was some other reason behind her leaving. He wanted to let her know he would be here, waiting, and that she could put her trust in him.

Finally, he wrote a letter telling her exactly where he was coming from. Leave her in no doubt whatsoever. He handed it to the secretary who assured him it would reach Naina.

His restive spirit settled to a degree, he walked back to work, mulling over what the woman had just told him: “Naina is in Kabul, and she’ll be there for several weeks.”

An idea began to take root in his mind and the more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.
I should go there myself. Not to ask her to come back, but to stay. To be with her, observe her work and to work myself. There’s bound to be no dearth of opportunities available.