Three months.
Three months with no contact between Aniket and I. By the third hour of our separation, I had gone crazy. I refrained myself from calling him. I had to physically clasp my hands in order to stop myself from texting him. I switched off my phone, and immersed myself with other work.
The next few days were tedious and robotic. Eventually, I got used to the routine of waking up, taking Aruvi to school, working and helping Aruvi with her homework after her school hours, then working after I put her to sleep in the brand new nursery. My office became my home. I didn't speak to my parents, in fear of being reprimanded. They all think I'm at the new house, and I let it be that way. Although, I've been receiving breakfast, lunch and dinner in a three tiered container every day since Aniket left me for Paris. It tastes like my mother's cooking, so I'm guessig she drops it off every morning. I pack some of it for Aruvi as well.
Apparently, Preesha and Chinna has moved to a condo downtown, after spending their honeymoon in the Maldives for a month. I'm guessing she has no problems with him.
Aruvi on the other hand, is becoming the most hyperactive child I have ever seen; even more than me. Karma hit me right in the face for being naughty as a child. Aruvi has adapted to her new school, making more rebellious friends each day. She wears here two checkered uniforms for school, changing them every day after washing it in tub. I don't know how she is at school, but I think I've disciplined her enough. Alright. Only somewhat. I've finally got her to stop eating her own booger's, and I consider that a very nice start. Although, I've been growing close to her, I've lost contact with my family entirely. And Aniket.
I have no clue if he has ate, if he's sleeping right now, if he's thinking about me...
I choose not to think about him, sometimes. It upsets me. I'm stubborn, and I know I will lose my dignity if I 'go crawling back' to him. His words winded me, and now I think both of us are facing the consequences.
Harsh words always end in disasters.
"What are you thinking about, Mama?" Aruvi asks sleepily, as I lay with her on the nursery cot. It's a Saturday, and it was easy to put her to bed since she's been running around, pretending to be my little assistant all day. She is not one of the materialistic kids. Whenever I want her forgiveness, she chooses to ask for my love and affection instead of a puppy or a doll.
I wish she asked for a puppy.
I always wanted a dog— of course, a disciplined, fluffy golden retriever would be my first choice. But the little girl wants nothing and cares for everything.
The other day, she was talking to Kanya, even when I told her that she was not 'kind' (the kindest word I could find to explain it) to our family. Kanya still hasn't woken up yet.
Her only relations, Prakash, and Mayma have gone back to their house— which helps me reclaim my peace of mind. The longer Prakash stayed at my parent's house, the worse.
But Prakash doesn't seem to be doing anything lately. A few days ago, I spoke with Mayma, who explained that he has been in his study, reading his vast collection of books. I think the snake curled up without it's snake charmer. Also known as the demon witch, Kanya.
"I was thinking of Papa." I tell her instead. It was partially true.
"I miss Papa too." She curls her legs around me, putting her ears on top my belly. I can tell she's distracted. Her little mind multitasks a lot, going back and forth between various topics. So far, she's been understanding of my state, helping me in times of need— like this morning, when I could barely tie my shoes— she kneeled on the ground, tying it in her own, messy, style. "Do you think they're boys?"
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The Workaholic Wife ✅
RomanceA workaholic doctor never thought about marriage a day in her life until she woke up to find a man in her bedroom. Her mother wanted grandchildren and she wanted to abide her wishes, so that her mother would not scorch her ears until she does. What...