Forget-Me-Not: Taste of Freedom

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

       Her hands flew over the keyboard, weaving together words and sentences in a seamless stitch. On the desk, beside her PC, rested three empty cups and a half full cup of coffee. Despite the exhaustion of sitting in the same posture for hours, Dia sat ram-rod straight. She was more exuberant about the fact that her most recent story was complete than being tired after a sleepless night. This brought a high of excitement, as it did every other time she finished writing a book. It always made her feel better, always made her feel like she'd accomplished something. After she'd typed 'The End' on her document, she fell back in her chair with a sigh and yawned, stretching her body.

      What a night, she thought to herself. What an extremely long, satisfying night.

       Unable to sleep last night, she'd gotten out of bed and trudged into her study room. There, she'd switched on the computer and started writing. If nothing else worked, writing always did. There was a strange peace in writing... a strange solace in words that somehow healed all her problems. When she was with her words, she wasn't alone. There was no need for anyone; she was her most fundamental self when she was with her computer. It was a relationship she was not ready to give up for a long, long time.

      As she finished the last of her coffee, Dia heard footsteps in the passage outside, and moments later, Varun appeared in the doorway. She was startled by his appearance, but didn't show it. Neither of them said anything for a long time. Then he came inside and leaned on her desk, facing her. "Up all night?"

      "Yes. I just finished another book."

      "The same Lighthouse series?"

      "Yeah."

      "Congratulations." There was a faint smile on his lips. He looked radiant and homely and comfortable in his ratty old t-shirt and half-length khakis. His hair was standing up on one end—probably the result of sleeping sideways—giving him a slightly careless look. She felt a sudden urge to straighten it, or to run her fingers through that thick, lustrous mass of hair... Dia looked away, appalled at her thoughts. It wasn't the first time she'd acknowledged that she found him attractive, but it was definitely the first time she'd felt an urge to act on it.

      "Thanks," she muttered, making her voice sound nonchalant, almost distant.

       He eyed the coffee cups, shaking his head slightly, then said, "I got worried when I didn't find you in bed."

       She blinked, making the mistake of looking into his eyes. Ever since their last conversation, when Varun had told her he loved her, things between them had been... different. Strained. As if an unfathomable distance had come between them. Dia could have lived with the fact that they were trying to get used to each other. But love? Love was too soon to be a part of the equation. It had been four years since their wedding, but she wasn't ready for it. No, she absolutely wasn't... she didn't even know him properly.

      "Where else would I go?" she shrugged. "No reason to worry."

      "So, what are you going to do with yourself today?"

       "I don't know; I haven't thought of anything."

       "Your mother called last night. She asked us over for lunch."

       "Oh god," Dia muttered, pressing one hand to her temple. "No, I can't do another lunch with my family, no matter how well-meaning they can be. Did you say yes already?" she couldn't help sounding fearful.