We walked into the flat at half past seven. What a lovely winter evening it had been.People walked by doing their chores inspite of the icy weather, looking all pretty and nice in their cardingans and coats. She looked awfully pretty wearing the best saree from her handloom collection, my personal favorite- the mahogany colored mulmul saree. Our son was at her parents' and so we get to do this.
She hung her coat onto the hinge and started getting ready to make us some dinner. I would help of course, but before that, I looked around the space , the same walls,the same bookshelves and the little collection of pretty pots we had gotten from the exhibition over the years, stayed there in the same order, damnit! Nothing seemed to change, the home smelled of the same cheery aroma ,just like the day we had got married. I looked at her, with her kohled eyes and her locks running delicately behind her beautiful neck, she was looking at the chopping board with atmost concentration as though she were studying a specimen. She was really keen on getting the smallest cubes of onion. She looked the same indeed, only a little older and slightly bulkier. I hugged her from behind and she seized- held my face and gently planted a kiss on my cheek. She went back to chopping her veggies and I held on, I did not ever want to let go of the warm feeling. Letting go delicately, she turned to me and said with excitement, "We're going to have one hell of an evening", I replied saying" I'm sure", because I was. We cooked together and I didn't care about looking like a loon by not being able to stop staring at her, she carried an air of beauty and elegance ,so much so that I was not in the smallest way immune. She was rather conscious but I was aware of her stealing glances at me.
The table was set, the candles lit and all other lights went down. She wasn't going to be seated opposite to me but next to me, that's how it always had been with us.
We had the loveliest dinner, talking about life and work and tearing up about how our kid grew up from a baby into this handsome young man. She held my hand teary eyed and kissed it. "You do know right, his hands look exactly like yours, he's got them from his dada". I nodded in approval chugging down food. It led to another talk about what features our eight year old had taken over from us, in detail. It was rather cute and heartwarming. The table cleaned, it was time for "the bed". We rather cleaned up hastily, of course we were excited, she wasn't trying to hide it too. We snuggled, the coziest bed and the warmest feeling it was to have her in my arms ,right next to me. We laughed and talked, but now only about us. I caressed her face and looked into her eyes while she talked endlessly. How fascinating it was to see her eyes brighten up at one moment and her lips move slowly as she talked. I felt like the luckiest man alive ,to be next to her like this. At this moment I could let this go on forever. I would stay close to her and look at her with love as she reciprocated, she talked and talked and I listened as if I were drugged. Man! I loved her to bits. She kissed me out of the blue and my heart didn't fail to skip this time, like every time she did it. It was time to set things on fire, turn the heat up. I plunged onto her kissing her in the mouth madly, our chests heaved as though we were teenagers doing it for the first time. As the lovemaking commenced, there wasn't one moment we broke eye contact, my heart was in my throat, beating faster than ever and her pale skin turning red everywhere I held onto. It was racier than our early days of marriage. We had the best time.
It would sound rather funny to others when I'd talk about the moments of full emotion right after we got done with our lovemaking session. We would cling onto eachother inspite of the heat and the shit we smelled of, we had watery eyes and a throat that ached "how on dear earth would someone have someone so close! ". We fell asleep eventually.
I woke up to a beautiful morning, I looked at the alarm clock, it was 6:14 a.m. She was still asleep, her skin shone like satin. I ran my fingers on her face and kissed her on the cheek. I wanted to shriek. I was crying already.
It was finally time to leave my ex-wife's home. Just like the day a few years ago, after having spent a wonderful night making up for the ugly fights we had, after the sex and confessions of love and all of that, she woke up to me shoving divorce papers onto her face. She sat there, dumbstruck, not uttering a word and my heart ached. She said she needed some time for herself.I walked out of the room. She wanted to cry but couldn't, her heart was in pieces and pain but wasn't sure about holding on. I knew because, it was the same for me. She walked out of the room after hours as I waited for her with my face in my palms. She handed me the signed papers.
Earlier that morning, I was lying next to her, thinking about what the heck had we done to each other. Every passing day we said words that chipped through our hearts. Of course we loved each other but dear ego! Every word we uttered, we wished we could take back but was there any stopping now? No. We couldn't stop digging at each other's self worth.
I knew her decision was thorough. We parted ways five years ago, getting equal custody of our son, still being madly in love but refusing to let go of our self worth. As for partners ,we didn't move on. I still loved her madly and so did she and hence these sneaky nights. Anything more than this, we feared would hurt us, would make us take eachother for granted but that was long time ago. Now, we don't think about getting back together and I would be embarrassed to admit I love to ache to see her again every single time she left. There was only love not hate. Everything bitter was left behind.
Again this morning , as I got ready to leave -wearing my coat, she looked like she ached, of love. I stepped out of the flat which once belonged to us, I strode forward making sure not to turn back, so she wouldn't know how miserable I felt.
I went on, acting as though I didn't hear what she said. My love said, "I hope you miss me soon enough again".
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