Learning to Love

Chapter 4

Bright rays of sunshine crept into Aman’s bedroom, waking him from a deep sleep.  He drank himself to sleep last night with a bottle of his father’s most expensive whiskey.  He was too upset to think straight and the overpowering hangover didn’t help anyone. Aman groggily sat up.  He glanced around him.  His eyes fell once again on the file he reviewed last night.  Aman groaned.  He suddenly remembered why he drank so much last night. His marriage had been arranged. 

            “Sir,” a young servant, barely old enough to call a man, stood at Aman’s door.  In his hands, he held a tray with breakfast on it.  Most of the food was traditional Indian food.  Aman deplored Indian food for breakfast.  He reserved Indian food for dinner, only dinner and only on occasion. 

            “What else do you have?” asked Aman.

            “I’m sorry, sir?” The servant didn’t understand what he meant.

            “I don’t want that for breakfast. Bring me something else. I want eggs.” Demanded Aman sternly, raising his voice a little.

            The servant took a step back.  “I’m sorry sir. Eggs it is,” he said before disappearing down the hall.                     

            Aman slowly made his way to the shower.  He shuddered as the cold water poured over his body.  He started to think of ways to avoid this marriage.  Maybe he could convince the girl to refuse him.  If she refused him, there would be nothing his father would be able to do about it, and he would be home free.  How? How could he possibly convince her?  Maybe if she thought he was already in love, but Aman’s father would see right through that. Maybe he should tell her that he simply didn’t want to marry her. He just wasn’t ready to make such a big commitment.  It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t ready to be a married man, but he wasn’t ready for totally different reasons.  Suddenly, it struck him.  Aman smirked as he continued to devise his devious little plans. 

            Aman slowly got dressed. He put on an expensive Armani suit with a white dress shirt underneath his blazer.  He topped off his look with a dark silk tie.  Aman carefully combed is thick, black hair into place.  He looked so much better than he felt.  His hangover was getting the best of him. He needed food now. Aman opened the door, and suddenly the servant appeared with a huge smile on his face.  He held out the tray to Aman. It had plates of eggs with toast and a piping hot cup of coffee. 

            “I was just coming down.” Said Aman stifling a chuckle.  The goofy smile on the servant’s face just made him want to laugh. 

            The servant’s smile began to fade.  “Sorry sir. I thought you would want to stay in after your long journey yesterday.” He apologized.  He turned around and made his way down the hall towards the grand staircase.  Aman followed suit.

            “It’s okay,” Aman said, placing a hand on the servant’s shoulder.  “I’ll just have it downstairs.  I have too much to do today to have breakfast in bed.  It was a nice thought though.  Umm…by the way, I didn’t mean to snap at you this morning.  Last night was just one hell of a night.” Aman was genuinely sorry. He knew better than to order the servants around like a spoiled rich kid, even though he was one. 

            “No sir. It’s not your fault.” The servant replied.  By then, they reached downstairs.  Aman sat himself at the table while the servant transferred the plates from the tray to the table. 

            “Thanks,” Aman said, “What’s your name?”

            “Arvind, sir.” Arvind replied hesitantly.