Vodka on the rocks

The Choice [Continued]

Raghav blinked blearily and found his entire body sweat soaked and achy. His head particularly felt like someone had decided to dump a boulder on it. He tried getting up, but in vain and let out an embarrassing whimper instead and sensed a movement beside him.

Then he saw her. 

His wife sleeping in a very uncomfortable position, her hair half into her parted lips, her hands tucked under her face which was resting on one of his hand which she had for some reason clutched in her sleep. She seemed like she had fallen asleep while seated on the bed, beside him. 

The early morning sunlight filtering through the heavy blinds of the large French windows of their bedroom fell on her. Pallavi looked ephemeral, a figment of his sweetest dreams and he took a lungful of her fragrance which had spread itself across their entire room. He was about to remove the hair from her face so that he could see her beautiful face when the bitter tang of reality gutted him and unwanted tears sprang to his eyes. 

'She is not mine...'

He tried to turn towards her so that he could remove his hand from her hold as gently as possible but discovered much painfully that he had a saline drip attached to his other hand. 

"Oh fuck!"

Pallavi's eyes flew open and she sat up on the bed with a start and goggled at his contorted face with disbelieve for some time before a huge grin split her face into two. He immediately felt butterflies in his stomach like always, whenever she would look elated. 

"Deva! Thank God! You woke up. I am so happy... but.. what.. tum kya karne ki koshish kar rahe ho Raghav? Don't tug at that.. for God's sake this man!"

She climbed out of the bed and circled it to come at his other side and immediately pulled him to a proper position so that there is no pressure on the drip and tucked pillows behind him. Raghav was amazed at how easily, his slender wife whose waist's girth came almost in his palms itself, managed to pull him in her arms and manoeuvre him around like he weighed next to nothing. 

Maybe he was weaker than he expected. 

'Oh Damn! I had a fever last night. Is that why she looks so concerned?'

"Oh Raghav! You are completely wet. Maybe the fever has finally come down, Thank Heavens."

Pallavi sprinted towards the washroom and came back with a towel. Raghav looked on ruefully and also with an affection he could hardly help as his wife wiped the sweat off his body, with a tenderness which left something aching strongly inside his chest. 

"Tum kal soya nhi kya raat ko Saree Ka Dukaan? Aankhein itni sooji kyun dikh rahi hain?"

He asked worriedly catching sight of her puffy eyes all of a sudden. She was looking oddly pale too. She hadn't caught onto his fever right? Pallavi looked down for some reason unable to meet his gaze before blinking her eyes rapidly as if trying to blot the fluid which was threatening to spill out of them. 

"Pallavi..."

"I am sorry Rao.. I.. didn't.. I just... I was so terrified when I found you in that condition in the study. I have never lost control like that before... ever. Not when I found about Mandar's apparent demise, not when I found Baba lying unconscious in his room after suffering a heart attack... not ever. Seeing you... like that..."

Raghav felt wretched seeing the tears finally spilling out on her cheeks as she struggled to speak through the massive lump stuck in her throat. He always made her cry and he detested himself for that. Pallavi rested her face against his heart gently and let the tears fall on his chest.