The Love-addict Chapter 11

                Suddenly, Amisha blurted out, “Shall we persuade her to get married?” Rohan was about to burst out laughing but refrained when he saw that Amisha was dead serious. Carefully, he said, “Do you have anyone in mind?” She shook her head in the negative. Then Rohan said, “She is a famous superstar. Her wild lifestyle is the talk of every town, thanks to the relentless media coverage. I wonder who will bell the cat? Besides, I feel that she is just not the marrying type!”

               Amisha was thinking about whether Rohan was actually trying to prevent Samaira from marrying. Wasn’t he having the best of both worlds? Why would he want to rock the boat?

               I will phone her after going home. At least, we’ll come to know whether she has found someone special to share her life with, like me!” She looked meaningfully at Rohan, who seemed slightly disconcerted. Why was Amisha trying to corner him? Didn’t she trust him? He simply agreed.

              Both were lost in their thoughts on their way back home. Rohan was thinking about how he regretted having ever met the beautiful Samaira. Amisha was thinking about how she had unwittingly created a menage-a-trois. Rohan wanted Amisha to trust him. Amisha wanted to trust Rohan desperately, but found that she just couldn’t! Thus the wonderful evening was thoroughly spoilt. What the night held for them, they didn’t know.

              Wanting to prolong their togetherness, Rohan suggested that they go for a long drive and then go home. “Let’s just enjoy tonight, dear. I’m not in the mood to hear your darling sister’s tantrums. Neither do I want you to feel miserable after the wonderful time that we’ve just spent together, this evening! If you’ll feel any better, let me promise that I will always be YOUR Rohan, in totality! Only, trust me.” He pulled her close and she rested her tired head on his comforting shoulder.

             After a while she relaxed. She was making a mountain out of a mole-hill, she mused. She regained her composure. As she made out the tall silhouette of the Kutub Minar, in the far distance, she suddenly giggled. As Rohan looked at her enquiringly, she said, “You are as dependable as the one and only Kutub Minar. You have always been a pillar of support to me and yet I act peevishly. I’m so sorry, darling.”

             He was amused and indulgent, as he took his hand off the steering-wheel for a moment and ruffled her soft hair. It’s O.K. It happens sometimes, when in love. I understand that you love me more than anything else in this world. Just loosen up a little. No one is going to steal your husband from you and nor am I going to let anyone do that! So tear that F.I.R of yours, immediately!”

            At this Amisha burst out laughing uncontrollably and Rohan joined in, happy that he had assured her of his commitment towards her.

             When they reached home at 3 p.m. both were too tired to do anything else than flop onto their bed, after changing quickly into night-clothes. Both slept soundly, wrapped in an embrace.

             Samaira’s incessant calls went unanswered as Rohan’s phone had been switched off. The next morning, Rohan and Amisha woke up at 10 a.m. when their maid-servant rang the bell. Rohan saw his cell-phone and remembered switching it off the previous evening. Hastily, he turned it on. No sooner had he done that, than it rang. Seeing Samaira’s name on the screen he winced. Stupid girl! She was really getting on his nerves, with her obsessive behavior! Why couldn’t she just leave him alone? he thought crossly. Amisha had gone to the bathroom. He pressed the key twice and ended the call.

             As was his habit, he switched on the T.V. set to watch the news. Samaira’s gorgeous face pounced on him, from the screen. She was clad in a multicolored bikini. Her beautiful eyes looked at him accusingly. The next snap-shot showed her lying in a pool of blood on her bed, with her cell-phone beside her. The news-reader was stating in an emotionless voice, “Sultry siren, super-star Samaira is no more. She ended her life with her licensed pistol, early this morning.…..” 

            

              So it was Samaira's maid-servant who had been calling him to inform them about her mistress’ death!

              

             Rohan felt as if his heart was being wrenched apart. He gasped and turned towards Amisha who had silently come and stood behind him with their mugs of coffee. He held her as she swayed, took the tray with mugs, placed it on the side-table; and made her lie down on the bed. She was shocked as hell! Rohan saw her stony face and called the doctor.

                Their life had come to a standstill.

                                                                       THE END

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The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.    

The Love -addict Chapter 10

               Just when she was about to comment on the breath-taking setting, Rohan’s cell-phone rang. With trepidation, Amisha watched as Rohan answered the call, “Oh Samaira, I hope it’s nothing urgent. Please will you call later? I’m busy right now.” As he abruptly disconnected the call without waiting for her response, Amisha heaved a sigh of relief. She had been expecting a long call filled with hearty laughs and soft responses to spoil her dinner! But a small doubt niggled. Was Rohan doing it for her benefit? She’d find out later that night, when she took the bull by its horns and confronted him about her doubts.

              Nevertheless, her mood was spoilt slightly. Samaira’s thoughts hung like the Damocles’ Sword over her. Peevishly, she said, “Rohan, will you please shut off your cell-phone? It’s irritating!”

             With a small laugh, he did as she requested. “Happy? Now give me a good smile!”

             She laughed and said, “Eeee….” Then both of them burst out laughing loudly, till they realized that other diners were staring at them. Both of them pored over their respective menus and ordered for soup, main courses and dessert. Rohan was playful and charming as he held out his hand to her. “May we dance till dinner arrives?” “You know that I can’t dance to save my life!” she gently chided. “Come, I’ll teach you. There’s always a first time!” he gallantly offered.

              She allowed him to lead her to the dance floor where several couples were swaying to the live band’s melodious tunes. Rohan guided her steps till she got the rhythm and started tentatively dancing. Though awkward initially, she was soon dancing in step with her husband. The proximity to her handsome husband and the divine setting made her ecstatic. She felt as though she was in heaven and always wanted to be there!

                Rohan too was soaking in the dream-like spell of that evening. He felt the tickle of her thick hair, her warmth and noted the softness in her beautiful eyes. He studied her features carefully, as if noticing her again. Her eyes were dark as midnight, her pupils shone like stars; her slightly twisted nose lent a certain character to her square-jawed face. And her lips? They were wide, full and moist, pink with lip-stick and parted with desire! Unable to resist the invitation, he suddenly bent and kissed her on her lips, lingering slightly, as she initially resisted and then gave in to him. She reveled in his by-now tight embrace and then as reality struck, she gently squirmed and looked at him teasingly.

               “I hope that you haven’t forgotten about our dinner!” she said in a whisper. With love brimming in his eyes, he said, “No I haven’t! I had just forgotten about how beautiful you are!”

                 “Now stop buttering me up. I know that I’m not beautiful!” she said mockingly, but with a small giggle.

                “Then you must look at yourself through my eyes, Amisha. As is rightly said by someone, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, isn’t it?” She blushed and kept quiet.

                After that dance ended, they went and had dinner, chatting about a variety of topics. She told him about her botched-up blouse and he told her about his plans to diversify and expand his business. They talked about their families. When the conversation veered towards Samaira, Amisha knew that it was now or never! “Rohan, will you be frank and tell me whether you have any romantic feelings for Samaira?” He looked shell-shocked, as he tried to find words. Carefully he asked, “Why are you asking this question now, Amisha? Don’t you trust me?”

               Seeing his hurt expression, Amisha almost felt sorry that she had broached that unpleasant topic and spoilt their wonderful evening of togetherness. But she was determined to get back her peace of mind. This was just a small sacrifice to be made, if she had to live happily thereafter, with Rohan. “I do trust you Rohan. But I want your assurance too! I have been feeling very insecure, of late, as you seem to be getting too close to her. If you want me out of your way, I will gladly step aside. But you are too good a person to give up, just like that! I love you and want to be sure that you are only mine. I can’t share your affection with anyone else, not even my dear sister.”

                Her expression was resolute, but she seemed tense to the point of breaking down under the stress of talking so boldly to her husband. She had always been quite reserved and conservative in her approach towards their relationship, partly due to the rigid upbringing of her traditional parents. Maybe it was that same rigidity that had made Samaira so rebellious and had eventually led her to flee from her ‘prison’, thought Amisha.

              As she thought warmly about her impulsive, but lovable sister; she had to firmly remind herself that that same sister had become the bane of her existence, right then! Wasn’t she trying to steal her husband’s affection? Wasn’t she downright ungrateful, as it was Amisha who had asked Rohan to keep tabs on her and ensure her well-being in a big city?

               Through a haze, she felt that she heard Rohan saying, “Amisha, Samaira is lonely and needs company. I am just trying to give her solace. I am also trying to help her kick her habit of boozing.”

               With a shock, Amisha jolted back to reality. “Did I hear you right? You never mentioned this before!”

               “Yes Amisha, what I am saying is the truth. I didn’t want you to be hurt or ashamed, hence I didn’t tell you about it previously. But since we are having a heart-to-heart conversation now, I might as well inform you that she is addicted to alcohol. I guessed it by the manner in which her maid-servant readily bought a bowl for her to purge herself, when she felt nauseous. It appeared to have been a regular affair! Hence I urged her to promise me that she would give up this vice if she wanted me to keep in touch with her.”

               “But how can you be sure that she has indeed given up her habit, Rohan? Don’t we know that this is the most difficult thing in the world to do, after smoking? By the way, does she smoke too?”

                “I don’t think that she does, as she didn’t light a cigarette when I was there.  She has assured me that she has stopped drinking. She even swore on me!”

               Amisha looked incredulously at him. “Really? I hope that she was serious! If anything happens to you, I’ll …..” As she looked belligerent, Rohan laughed and held her hand to assuage her feeling of indignation. “We must trust her, Amisha. If we don’t, who will?”

To be continued....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The Love-addict Chapter 9

              Meanwhile, Rohan’s business grew and he became increasingly busy. He started resenting Samaira’s calls as he thought that they distracted him from his work and interrupted his schedule. If he was in a business meeting and he received her call midway, he would be highly irritated and tell her abruptly to call later. Even at late nights, he would be too tired and sleepy after a hard day’s work; and would hence avoid taking her calls or switch off his cell-phone for the night.

             The persistent and by now desperate Samaira would phone him up in the early mornings, but would be frustrated and angry on not being answered to. Her maid would bear the brunt of all her tantrums then, patiently picking up all the broken pieces of expensive vases, artifacts and cutlery thrown around in a fit of rage; by her tempestuous mistress. She would also bear all her taunts and abuses with extreme fortitude. She took consolation in the fact that at least no was around to watch her being humiliated like that for no fault of hers. She had watched with growing concern as her mistress became increasingly dependent on Rohan’s phone calls to make her happy. It was as if all her life depended on them. She was cheerful when he responded and sorrowful when she couldn’t get through to him.

                  Amisha thought that Rohan was just showing as if he didn’t encourage Samaira’s calls, for her benefit. She was sure that throughout the day, at office, he would be chatting with her merrily over the phone. Maybe he didn’t want to be questioned by her! He was astute. A hard-nosed businessman had to be astute! His skills were coming in handy, just then, she thought uneasily. What was cooking between the two? Was he secretly planning to divorce her and marry Samaira? She racked her brains endlessly to find a solution to her doubts and to her threatened marriage. Her work suffered in the bargain.

                One evening, a customer who had given her a blouse to stitch, picked up a quarrel with her. “What have you stitched Amisha? Is this a blouse? It looks like a small child’s vest. Whose measurements have you referred to while sewing it?” Irritably, Amisha answered in a high-pitched voice, “Of course yours! I haven’t stitched for the first time in my life! I have been sewing since 15 years.”

               That customer retorted sarcastically, “Good you informed me, though it looks as if you are a beginner!”

                  After a few more heated words were exchanged, that lady said, “Kindly give me the cost of the material. I refuse to accept this ill-fitting blouse.”

                 Realizing her mistake and to maintain her reputation, Amisha quietly gave her the requisite amount with a heavy heart. If things continued in this vein, she’d have to wind up her well-established business. The tension of her married life and her husband’s ‘affair’ with her sister was taking a toll on not just her business, but her well-being too! She started refusing work that came her way and became listless and despondent. She was depressed and stopped dressing up properly and even combing her hair.

                  Rohan observed these changes, but didn’t interfere after some initial persuasion to cheer up, as he felt that she was missing having a child of her own. He knew that the customers who came to her, invariably questioned her about it. He didn’t want to rub it in by commenting on her appearance. He continued with his routine, as usual. That incensed Amisha even more, as she expected him to be caring and sympathetic towards her plight. She felt as if she was no longer needed by Rohan.

                One evening when Rohan arrived home from work, exhausted and famished, he realized that Amisha hadn’t made anything for dinner. He blew his top when he saw her lying on the bed, vacantly staring at the ceiling, lost deep in her thoughts. She looked disheveled and haggard. Previously she used to take trouble to look presentable for him, when he returned from work. Nowadays, she had just given up on everything.

                “So you didn’t get time to cook meals today?” he enquired irritably. She just stared vacantly at him, which incensed him further. “Amisha, I am asking you something. Please reply!”

                She turned to her side and muttered, “I am not well.”

                “I can’t see anything wrong with you. These days, you have become very lazy. What’s the matter?” he asked.

               “You should know better,” she said caustically.

               He sat down next to her and forced her to sit up, by physically lifting her. “Come on, explain! I hate you for talking in riddles. Please be frank and let me know what’s bothering you. Maybe I could help you. But if you keep going on like this, I don’t know what could be our future!”

              “Our future!” she grimaced and said, “Yours is surely bright and mine is dark as hell!”

               Amazed, he looked at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time in his life. She had never talked so cryptically to him before. She had always been pleasing and well-mannered.

            Gently, he asked her to get ready. “Come, I’ll take you out for dinner today. Will you wear that pink sari, which is a favorite of mine? Yes, and also your lovely smile!”

            Amisha visibly brightened and started getting ready. Rohan had decided to get to the bottom of the matter that night. He couldn’t bear to see his wife so unhappy and depressed. Maybe he was at fault, as he had become a workaholic and hardly spent time with her.

            He went to freshen up. Just then, Amisha heard the buzz of his cell-phone, indicating that he had received a message. It was from Samaira. “Hi dear, long time, no see?” it read. Amisha deleted it.

           She scrolled through his calls received and saw 10 calls from Samaira. She was furious, but decided to confront Rohan after dinner. She didn’t want to miss the opportunity of spending some precious time with her husband.

            Rohan drove her to a swanky restaurant with a Greek theme. Playful cupids and beautiful cherubic angels were carved on the marble columns of the dining hall. Soft music played through the music system as the steward politely ushered them to a corner table. Rohan looked very sauve in his smart attire of neatly pressed blue shirt and black trousers. Amisha looked presentable in her soft-pink sari with pearl accessories. She had left her hair loose, brushed to one side. The elegant nape of her neck enhanced the even features of her face. The soft lights played magic on her, as she appeared enticing and alluring to Rohan.

           Tonight, she looked bewitching, he thought. Maybe, it was the dream-like setting, with gurgling fountains, green flowering shrubs all around, and those erotic cupids and guileless angels that were responsible for that romantic feeling. He forgot all his animosity towards her. Even Amisha had decided to soak in the beauty of that enchanting evening and romantically charged atmosphere. The unpleasant tasks could wait!

To be continued....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.