His Burden, His Blessing

The Jerk

This is the fifth time that I think about what Ishaani said last night. And that's truly messing with my work headspace.

Ishaani was just a normal girl. She wasn't pretty. She was fat and dark. Every man has their dream wife and Ishaani wasn't mine. I could never willingly kiss her dark lips, I just can't bring myself to.

I was born and brought up in America but came to India to be with my grandparents at the age of 16 because of how much my parents would pressure me to excel in every single thing. Though I did outshine in all fields in school and college, I did feel that I would go completely crazy if I stayed there for two more years.

So I continued my high school in India while I pursued medicine in Canada, always staying away from my parents. Over the years, I got used to getting the best of everything, from the outfits that I wear to the job that I work. But when the most important aspect of my life, my soulmate, my wife, was not really the best, it was a huge letdown, a disappointment.

It was true that she really didn't turn me on. When I have a really bad day at work, I have sex to get rid of the frustration. Ishaani's body really doesn't turn me on, so I would rather have sex in the dark.

Every morning she would throw on a lot of makeup and that just disturbs me more because why does she want to look good for others? Every morning when I get out the door, she pecks my lips and forehead with her dark lips that she has covered with dark red lipstick. Though it annoys me, I didn't want to hurt her by telling her off.

This morning, though, was different. She wasn't there this morning when I came to the kitchen. There was a note mentioning how she had to get to the office early so that she can take this afternoon off to get ready for the party.

The day started off weird. She wasn't sitting in front of me when I had my breakfast and she wasn't there to send me off with those kisses and my lunch box. In the two years, we have been married she's always done that without fail, even when she was sick. So it felt weird and I didn't know why.

What was even worse was the weird feeling when I found no note written to me today. I searched the entire lunch bag frantically and found none. And then when I was weirded out by my actions and had all my colleagues staring at me, I composed myself and told myself that she must have been worried about today's party so she must have forgotten.

But I was brought back to how she looked. She was just an ordinary plain old Jane who wore Kurtis to work, was very shy, and was just boring. There was nothing interesting about her.

I might seem like a jerk, but I really just wanted my ideal wife. The words that she said last night hit me.

"Zeyansh! All these months, I took pride in the fact that my husband was someone who didn't put looks before heart. And now I know that it's a lie. No matter what I do, you are not going to accept me. I understand and it's fine. I would rather you respect me and this marriage. I'll always be a wife to you. I'll always care about you and-

And I'll always love you. Though you will probably not care for me or treat me like a queen, that's fine. You're a good man and that's more than enough."

Of course, looks matter!

How you look does matter! If my wife didn't look compatible with me, it would look awkward in society. Instead of getting married to a beautiful and social wife who worked in the same profession as me, I got married to her.

So was it wrong of me to want someone I dreamt of?

***

I had asked her to come alone because I was really booked. I only had time to change into my suit and rush to the hotel.

I waited for her at the entrance.

And then I saw her,

In a plain red saree, with her sindoor on the partition on her forehead and her mangalsutra (Thaali) dangling from her neck.

She didn't look extravagant or gorgeous, but she looked pretty.

"Sorry, I'm late." She said as and huffed a little. We stood there for a bit till she caught her breath and tidied herself up.

And then we went in. I found a couple of my friends and introduced them to my wife. This was the first time I took her out somewhere as my wife.

"Hi, Mrs. Ishaani. I'm a huge fan of your food. I wish my wife would cook me something at times but she's just too busy with the kids to have time for me." Said Varun with a teasing smile aimed at his wife standing next to him.

That's what I wanted in life. But guess it's a privilege only some get.

"Thank you," Ishaani said.

I just wanted to go home and rest. This party was boring and the food wasn't that good. Honestly, I was craving for Ishaani's paneer butter masala and garlic naan.

The worst part was that the guest of honor wasn't even here. What kind of person arrives late to her own party?

***

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen! Today we have a new doctor joining our hospital. So let's all welcome her." The dean said as all of us applauded.

And then walked in a stunning woman with a pink coat, paired with a lace top and white dress pants. She looked so fucking gorgeous.

"Thank you all. I was really nervous but now knowing that you all heartily welcome me, I'm happy."

Fuck!

Even her voice was amazing. The way she carried herself, her aura, the way she walked, talked, and laughed, I noticed it all.

I told myself that I was married and that this was wrong but she was like a light and I was the moth that was drawn to it.

"Zeyansh? Is everything alright?" my wife asked me and it was then I noticed she was next to me the whole time.

Shit.

I looked at her and the look she was giving me had me feeling guilty. I feel like a douche looking at her teary and hurt look.

"Um, I have to go to the bathroom." She said and left before I could speak.

Why am I always a jerk to her?