I sat anxiously in the hotel room, wondering where Anjali was. I couldn't handle being caged in the small room and left to walk around the hotel hoping to find her. On my way out, I noticed the empty bottle of Chardonnay, if she had polished off the whole bottle, I doubted she was at the bar. Most probably she was drinking coffee or walking off the stupor.
I checked the café, Anjali was nowhere to be seen, so I headed to the beach. The cool fresh air felt good after being cooped up in the room for so long. I took off my shoes, rolled up my pants, and began walking on the beach in search of Anjali.
As I walked, I saw a couple ahead of me slip their arms around each other as they walked. Their back was to me, but from the way they hooked their arms around each other they were familiar with each other; they didn't have awkwardness of a new couple.
Their familiarity reminded me of little habits Anjali had with me, they came with the passage of time and the ease of being with each other. Anjali had been shy and uncomfortable with PDA, but as we spent more time together, she let her inhibitions slip and her moves always let me know her mood.
Whenever Anjali was in a giddy mood, she looped two of her fingers and her thumb around my belt loops, stood on her tippy toes, and pulled herself toward me and kissed me. I almost always wore pants with belt loops, whether it was my suits for work or jeans on the weekend. I'd know immediately from the way she greeted me if she wanted to go out or was in a teasing mood.
When, she placed her left hand around my neck and her right hand over my heart; she was in a serious mood. She'd tell me, "I like putting my hand on your heart and hearing it beat. It makes me feel like I'm connected to you."
After so much time together we communicated without ever speaking a word. The pulling of my belt loops, the hand on my heart, were the small things that connected Anjali and I together. These were her signature gestures that I had grown accustomed to and looked forward to.
Except it had been a long time since I'd come home at a decent hour to greet Anjali. There hadn't been an opportunity in months for her to pull me in to kiss me or to put her hand on my heart.
I placed my hand on my heart and realized how much I missed Anjali and what I wouldn't do to have her hand on my heart right now telling me how connected we were. Our marriage wasn't perfect – we fought like any other couple, but there had only been a few times when my heart ached – ached because the trouble we were in was serious and I didn't know if our relationship could hold up against the obstacle. Unfortunately, that ache was back, and it worried me.
The ache made me remember the first time I felt this way.
After Anjali came to my place on her own accord and spent the night, we had many more mornings together. Most weekends, Anjali stayed at my place or I was at her place. We developed a comfortable pattern with each other. I gave her keys to my apartment; I hadn't done that with anyone in a long time. I liked it when she'd surprise me and show up at my apartment. Sometimes I'd come home from work to Anjali cooking away a storm and the aroma filled the entire apartment and hallway. Other times I discovered notes or surprises all over my apartment that she had placed while I was out of town.
One evening I reached my apartment after a long trip; I dreaded an empty apartment. I didn't want to spend the night alone. I dropped my bags in the entryway, everything looked sterile, untouched, and too quiet. I headed to my bedroom when I noticed the lamp in my living room was on. Surprised I left a light on before leaving, I walked to the lamp near the couch to turn it off. Closer, I noticed Anjali curled on my couch asleep. It was the best surprise I'd had so far. I sat on the floor and watched her sleep for at least a half hour. Watching her sleep gave me peace, and the loneliness disappeared.
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Silently Falling in Love: Lucky Charm THIS IS THE EDITED VERSION
RomanceLife. Love. Marriage. Children. No one talks about all the stages of Love. The movies and romance novels would have you believing it's just about the chase. It's as if once the man and woman declare their love for each other and we explain all misun...