The Revenge Marriage

CONFUSION OR HOPE

MEHER'S POV

I woke up stuffed in a warm blanket like a burrito. It was Persis's massive bed that cradled me to oblivion. I haven't slept like this in past eight months. I feel like i just woke up from a coma. I try to recall the happening of the previous night and everything comes rushing back at me. Persis rejected me yet again. Without my clear knowledge, tears rush forward and i lay in that warm cocoon crying like a deprived child. How can he make me so weak? I  am the modern 21st century girl. I am strong and independent and yet when it comes to him, I feel like an incomplete poetry. His words mean everything to me. His rhymes complete me. 

I refuse to breakdown. Last night was a mistake i do not intend to repeat. I take a deep breath and push my self upright, resting my head on the headboard. That is when i realize that i am no longer in my wedding dress but in one of Persis's night t-shirts. So soft and smells exactly like him. Mix of his cologne and his sweet sweat. I pull the collar to my nose and sniff it as if my life depends on it. Ridiculous! I disappoint myself. 

I sigh and start thinking about what should i do. He clearly doesn't love me and this seems more like some stupid revenge marriage. Or wait! If he hates me as he claims, why am i comfortably lying in his bed with warmth draping me? Why did he change my clothes? 

"why are you in my room?" didn't he ask me that last night? 

I cried and cried and passed out on the floor. He could have left me on the floor or just dumped me in the guest room. He surely wouldn't change me out of my uncomfortable outfit if he didn't care. But that's Persis for you. He is kind and lovely. My Persis. 

It probably means nothing. Or something? 

Ughhhhhh! STOP! He doesn't love you. That's what he said and that's what you need to believe Meher. Stop reading between the lines. 

What should i do now? Am sure depressed and most people would loose their appetite but to be honest, I am FAMISHED! I need food. 

I quietly step out of the warmth and step on the cold flooring. It's winter, though Bombay weather is not chilly, just pleasant, today seems like a cold morning. I pull Persis's t-shirt towards my knee and swiftly hop out of the room, to the kitchen. Walking softly, making no noise. I open the fridge to find it absolutely empty. There are a few eggs, bottles of water and some cola. No fruits or vegetables, not even any leftover food. Persis's kitchen and fridge are always stuffed with lots of food. May be it's because his Mom does't live here anymore. Sherry had informed me how his parents moved to London with his mom's sister Rose. I conclude that must be it and take the eggs from the fridge to make myself an omelet. 

I take a pan and turn the stove on. I break the egg in a bowl while i heat some oil on the pan. I decide to make some scrambled egg and break another one. While I am fixing my self some breakfast, I hear his footsteps. My heart jumps a beat. 

"Do not react. He doesn't need to know that he affects you. You are strong and that's what you will show him." I tell myself 

"Feeling at home?" He says with a sarcastic tone. I can feel his gaze burning to the side of my face. I refuse to look at him and continue working on my meal. 

"But it really isn't your home." He says walking towards me.

"You married me and that technically makes this my home." I say without shifting my gaze from the pan. 

"And that really isn't your food. I don't remember you buying it." He says ignoring my response. 

"Oh but i ain't surprised. Daughter like Father. You wouldn't think twice before taking what's not yours. It's in your genes to steal other peoples bread and butter. Or eggs in this matter." He says mockingly. 

He got me here. He compared me to my Father. I looked at him unable to mask the hurt. I look at the scrambled egg and realize that i have lost my appetite  finally.

He is right. He doesn't love me. This isn't my house and this isn't my food. Technicalities of a marriage doesn't matter no more.  

That's when it hit me. I don't have a house. I don't have a family. I am truly alone now. 

I bow my head down and mutter a whispered "Sorry." 

I feel like a thief stealing his food. That's what i really feel like. Bile is building up in my throat. 

 I want to say so much more. ' I did not mean to steal your food. I am not my father. I am not such a lowly person. Don't you know me? You don't love me but don't you at least trust me?'

I wanted to yell and give him a piece of my mind but I can't utter a word. With eyes on my feat and tears in my eyes i just utter again "SORRY!" This time more audible and i walk out of the kitchen feeling lost and lonely. My world did crush into pieces.