Love Me Like You Do

chapter 4

"Goodbye Mr. Malhotra". I turn on my heel without giving him second glance, I disappear down the sidewalk towards the underground garage.

Once underneath the dark, I lean against the wall and put my head in my hand. What was I thinking? Unwelcome tears pool in my eyes. Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. Drawing up my knees, I fold in on myself. I want to make myself as small as possible. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall. I'm crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous.

Stop! Stop now! My subconscious screaming at me, arms folded, leaning on one leg and tapping foot in frustration. Get in the car, go home, do your studying. Forget about him......Now!

I take a deep, steadying breath and stand up. I head for Preeti's car, wiping the tears off my face as I do. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.

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I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. It's Friday, and we shall be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I have never been drunk before.

We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Preeti is more concerned about what's she's going to wear to the bar this evening. I'm busily finishing around in my purse for my keys.

"Sumo there's package for you." Preeti is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd I haven't ordered anything recently.

I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered book in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is :

Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me ?

Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these tricks.....

I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I have just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony.... perhaps it's deliberate. I inspect the book closely, three volume of Tess of the D' Urbervilles . I open the front cover. Written in a old typeface on the front plate is :

'London: Jack R. Osgood, Mcllvaine and co., 1891. '

Holy shit - they are first editions. And I know immediately who's sent them. Preeti is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.

"First edition," I wishper.
"No." Preeti's eyes are wide with disbelief. " Shravan?"

I nod

Suman: can't think anyone else.

Preeti : what does this card means.

Suman : I have no idea. I think it's a warning - honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea and I don't care. I can't accept these from him. I'll send them back with equally baffling quote.

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The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduate. Aditya join us. He won't graduate for another year, but he's in the mood to party and get us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for all of us. As I down my fifth, I know this is not good idea on top of the champagne.