Modest Kisses

Chapter Six.

It had been seven days since I'd seen Safa, seven days. And each of those days, I woke up with good intentions and hope that today, she would finally open her door and we would talk about the matter at hand, but repeatedly, I went to bed disappointed and heart broken. I wasn't going to hope again, it was too painful to spare another day hoping.

I left for office every morning reluctantly, hoping she would come out just before I closed the door. And each evening I would drive at a potential speed, hoping to get home to see her in the living room, or kitchen. In fact anywhere but her room, I wouldn't have minded. But I always came home to an empty house.

And on days that Nana, my house keeper in her mid-forties would be around, I see only her. And she greets me with pity, then shakes her head a little. And somehow in the language she and I non-verbally created after Safa and I came back. It meant she hasn't been out of her room. And I would complete the routine by giving her a nod of understanding, a fake smile, and then stride to my room.

Food was no longer an option, I couldn't eat. She barely ever ate, most times I see the tray of food untouched in front of the door where I left it. Guilt and I were already best friends. It was the only thing I felt lately. The only time I don't feel its presence was during prayers.

I had grown mentally attached to her. Because, I find myself always thinking about her. Thinking of what she was doing, what she would do if things turned out differently. I thought of her to the extent that, when she wasn't in my mind. It felt wrong.

I had suspended all meetings and work for the day, I had been doing that a lot lately. I had just gotten back to my office and was drinking in the peace and quiet of it when my phone rang. It was Yousef. We hadn't spoken since I left Mumbai. It was pretty obvious he was checking up on me.

"Hey, bro. Forgotten me already? With honeymoon and the whole marital thing going on," he said.

"I wish," I replied. Not in the mood whatsoever.

"O, come on, I just spoke to Philip and he told me you were at work, what happened?" He asked because apparently I was supposed to be honeymoon-ing. Philip was my driver.

"Nothing that needs you worrying about," I said. The injuries were still sore, telling him would be peeling off the bandage, I couldn't handle it just yet. There was silence on the other line and I was about to hang up when he said.

"You know what? Let's meet for lunch, I have some business strategies to discuss with you," he said. And before I could say anything, he hung up.

I didn't need a genius to tell me there was no business strategy to discuss. In fact I was all the business strategy we would be discussing during lunch. But I was still going to go, it had been long since I was in the company of another human.

I waited for twenty minutes. I was sure I'd memorized the whole five pages of the food menu which was in Italian. But Yousef being Yousef had not arrived.

I had a pair of ray bans perfectly fixed on my eyes. I didn't want him seeing the dark circles lack of sleep had caused me, that would lead to questions that I didn't want to give answers to.

I had already made up my mind on how to avoid any questions he threw at me regarding my current lack of honeymoon status. But my mind had other plans because immediately he sat down. I told him.

"She knows, I told her," my eyes still behind the ray bans, and my gaze instantly taking interest to a particular spelling on the menu. Yousef was quiet, so I assumed he knew what I was talking about.

"That is brave of you though, so is she back home or what?" He asked. I finally looked up at him. My misery reflected on his face. Which only made me more guilty. If only I heeded to his advice of not getting vasectomy done, we wouldn't be in this situation. I had so many pure hearts around me. It was a wonder why mine wasn't. I didn't deserve his pity. I needed him to yell at me like the immature, selfish adult I was and give me the 'i-told-you-so' look. But he didn't.