Cheaters ✓

Suit

28 October 2020

I could never tell if he was serious or joking. I didn't ask him because I knew my question would make him come to a conclusion about me.

If I asked 'are you serious?' and he was not then chances were that he would think I was a gullible person. If he meant it, and I still asked then he might respond with 'why are you so surprised?'.

He might also interpret that I was taking all this casually. Was I supposed to take it seriously? Was I supposed to say yes instantly without giving it any thought.

'Too long a pause,' he had said when I did not reply. And then never asked me again. Neither verbally nor via text. Our texts had a pattern. I don't know which of us had created it. We limited the dirty talk.

When we met, our conversations were philosophical, our statements loaded, and we conversed about microscopic details and complex realizations which might be invisible to other people in relationships. This was probably one of the reasons why we looked forward to meeting each other. We were connecting at different levels through different mediums.

On text, it was mostly sexual. The sexting was good but our meetings were interesting because of these conversations which were mostly non-sexual. A few nights ago, he'd said something on text which had stayed with me. I made it a point to ask him when we met next.

'What did you mean when you texted me about handling the pressure of making a success out of a failed relationship?' I asked.

He roared with laughter. I immediately understood he knew I would ask him about it. Was I that predictable? I felt disappointed with myself.

'You are cute,' he said. I didn't bother to ask why exactly he felt so.

'I knew you would ask,' he said once I started driving. We had met at The Pavilion. I thought we would spend time there like we used to initially. But he had told me not to park. He had parked his car in the basement of the mall before coming to mine and sitting in the passenger seat. I had driven on.

'Are you ready with an answer?' I asked.

'I am. I'll tell you after I'm done with my work. We have less time today.'

I let it go and we moved on to other topics. We chitchatted. He asked me to stay put in the car since he had friends in the area and didn't want them to spot him with a man he couldn't introduce them to.

He didn't say the last bit. I understood nevertheless. We were grown-ups, right? We could understand these unspoken subtexts easily. We better.

He was gone for quite some time. Probably an hour. In the meantime, I made a few work calls and leaned back, listening to my favourite playlist on the car stereo. He apologized when he came back. He had a bag in his hand.

'That's all right.'

'No, it isn't. I swear I didn't know it would take this long. I'm sorry again.'

'I'm in the mood for an explanation, not an apology,' I said as I started the engine. He told me to drive to The Pavilion once again.

'Doesn't matter how we get into a relationship, but the unluckiest ones are those who put themselves under pressure to make it successful when deep down they know it is an utter failure,' he said after a while.

I understood he was answering the question I had asked earlier. He had my full attention.

'Success and failure are subjective. Whether a relationship is successful or not depends on what you expect from it. Differences are always there, even in the longest, most successful relationships. And anyway, longevity doesn't guarantee quality. Grow old with me, watch sunsets with me, hold me when I cry... all that is for teenagers,'

He took a deep breath and continued, 'Let me not digress. So, where was I? Yeah, there are always differences. In order to reduce them, we start accepting a lot of things about our partners that we probably wouldn't under normal circumstances. But since we are married, socially tied up, we use acceptance as a tool to negotiate them. Even then if they don't reduce, we file for divorce or start seeking what we want from new partners.'

The last bit, I felt, was about us. I didn't interrupt, and after he had finished there was silence. He took out a cigarette from his bag and lit it. This was the first time I saw him smoke in public. I pushed a button to lower his window.

'Thanks,' he said, taking a long drag from the cigarette. It seemed as if each drag was a long monologue which nobody had heard till then.

'When it hits you, and you know you can't talk it out with your partner or anybody else, you go into denial and invest your time into making it work. Not really for yourself. But for your partner, his and your parents, your children if have any, your relatives, basically your social circle. It's an everyday fight after that. And that's what, mister,' he looked at me and added,

'I meant when I texted you that. Did you get your answer?'

I nodded. We had reached the parking lot of the mall.

'Time's up for today.' There was remorse in his voice. That made me happy because I felt it too.

'Too many apologies in one day,' I said jocularly.

'See how seriously I take you,' he quipped.

'The feeling is mutual.'

'All right,' he said and opened the bag he had brought along from the bridal studio. As always I didn't ask him anything but waited for him to spill the details.

He pulled out a suit.

'How do you like it?' he asked.

I touched its fabric.

'It's nice. Would look lovely on you.'

'This is for our wedding,' he said matter-of-factly.

'Are you serious?' I was gobsmacked.

e leaned towards me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I had to interpret the peck to get my answer.