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“You should.”
“We should. All my celebrations are dull without you.”
I know, but that was in the past. My priorities have changed.
“Sabrina, I can’t. I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
“Don’t be a bore, Vikram. At least come for dinner at my place.”
I don’t think that’s a good idea. “Why don’t you come home? Mom and Dad would be happy to see you. Let’s have dinner there.”
She’s disappointed again. “Fine. I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“You can let Mom know. She’s the one who’ll arrange it.”
Sabrina frowns again, but she’s got my message. My marriage has changed many things I didn’t care about earlier.
***************
That night, I decide to call Maahi. I know she’s been busy with her clients, so I haven’t disturbed her in the daytime. Daadi told me how she’s been working late nights, even after coming home from the boutique.
Lying on my bed, I try a video call first, but she doesn’t answer. Then I try a voice call, thinking she might pick that one, but she doesn’t. Annoyed, I call Daadi instead. I do a video call to her almost every day now, not just to know about Maahi but because I worry about her health and miss her too. I see Daadi packing bags, looking overly excited.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask, leaning back comfortably on the pillow.
“Maahi didn’t tell you?” she asks, surprised by the communication gap between me and my wife.
“Tell me what?”
“About the trip, Vikram. Maahi and I are taking a one-week trip.”
That sounds good. They need a break. Maahi from work and Daadi from her daily routine. I wish I could join them. I loved staying with them at Ratna Mahal and miss the morning puja, typical Indian breakfast, Daadi-Maahi’s sweet banter, Daadi’s concern, Maahi’s challenges, and so much more. I miss it all.
I realize Daadi is in my bedroom, which Maahi has occupied after our marriage, packing her bags too.
“Where are you going? Have you booked the hotel? Tell me the place, I’ll make all the arrangements.”
Daadi laughs. “That’s not necessary. I’ve done the bookings already.”
I smirk at her confidence. Maahi has taught Daadi the basics of technology well. I remember Daadi telling me how Maahi gifted her a smartphone last year, and now Daadi operates it like a professional. These simple gestures from Maahi, how she’s protected and looked after Daadi, can never be repaid.
“You still didn’t tell me the place,” I say, noticing Daadi packing some western outfits in Maahi’s bag. I wonder where they’re going.
“That’s a surprise,” she says coyly and continues packing, making me even more curious.
“Daadi, can you pass me the towel?” Maahi’s voice from the bathroom prickles every nerve in my body.
She’s showering. That’s why she didn’t answer my calls. Daadi grabs a towel and moves out of the phone’s view to give it to her. My heart races as I wait to see Maahi out, freshly showered.
“Vikram,” Daadi returns. “Give me two minutes. I’ll bring a few clothes from my room. You can speak to Maahi when she’s out.”
I nod, waiting impatiently. Daadi sets the phone on a table beside the bed. I can’t see the bathroom door, but I’ll know when Maahi comes out. And there she is! Freshly showered, wearing only a towel around her petite body. She has no clue the phone is on and I can see her. She hums a song, looking utterly sensual and sizzling. I realize I’m invading her privacy, but she’s my wife! But she wouldn’t like it if she knew, so I speak to get her attention.
“You’re putting on quite a show for your husband, Cub.”
She jerks back, searching for the voice, and finally, her eyes meet mine on the phone screen.
“How… how the… Shit.”
