Page 18 of No Other Love
A small smile played on my face as I braked on the patio and walked up the steps and inside. The door was unlocked, because Aronda was the safest place ever and didn’t need that kind of protection even in the twenty-first century. I did have a security camera installed at the gate and the front door, because I was an overcautious bastard.
I felt a strange thrill when I spied Anika’s shoes neatly lined up at the rack, with the cute socks peeking out. I toed my own shoes off, wore my house slippers and almost ran up the stairs to see if she was awake.
She was still asleep. The covers tucked around her waist, her body curved into an S. She’d not even taken a shower, just laid flat on the bed and dropped off. She must have been exhausted, the poor thing. Guilt pricked at me for not offering her any food or drink before I left. But it was early morning, so I didn’t think it necessary.
For a mad moment, I wanted to peel back the sheets and crawl in right beside her. Hold her waist and lose myself in her special Anika-ness. For another mad moment, I considered doing just that. After all, I’d schemed to bring her home. Why couldn’t I crawl into her bed too? It was, after all, mine.
My civilized instincts stopped me. And the fact that my wife knew self-defense and would likely knee me in the nuts if I touched her without permission. I’d have been okay with losing my guys, but I didn’t want her to think I was that reckless and arrogant.
Maybe desperate but not arrogant.
We had enough problems to deal with as it is.
I quietly stepped back and waited for her to stir. She didn’t, just blew out a breath between parted lips and continuedsnoozing. I touched the air, as if to touch her. And then left the way I’d become.
I had a solitary lunch, a protein shake, and some dal rice and salad. And spent ninety minutes working on client files and a presentation I wanted to put together for the council, asking for more funds. Maybe even hire another doctor to take some of the load off me. In between, I answered a hundred texts about various ailments and follow-ups and medication queries.
Then I got on my row machine, kept in the backyard and rowed five thousand meters. It’s called erging and requires using every single muscle group in the body. It’s a full body cardio workout. It helped me focus during that dark time when I first came home and realized what I’d left behind.
I showered and was just about to brew some coffee and wake Anika up when I heard the familiar slap-slap of my mother’s slippers on the first-floor landing. My parents were here. I felt a familiar combination of love and guilt and resentment rise up in me.
***
‘Are those Anika’s shoes downstairs?’ Aai asked as soon as she saw me. In pure Konkani.
I dutifully hugged her. ‘Yes, Aai. Is Baba resting downstairs?’
‘She’s come then?’ Aai brushed aside my concerns about Baba. And honestly, the man was recovering exceptionally well.
‘I told you she would, didn’t I? I promised you she would.’
Aai pursed her lips, but I could see a thousand question in her lined eyes.
I cut her off by saying gently, ‘Kaki texted me to let me know they are almost at the border. Should be home in forty minutes. Why don’t you get things ready for them, Aai?’
‘Oh. Of course, yes.’ Then she looked at the bedroom Anika occupied. ‘Unless your wife wants to do that.’ She was uncertain and bitter. After all, the daughter-in-law she did not like was here. Napping.
I squeezed her arm and shook my head. ‘No, Aai. You do it. You know the house better. Anika’s not the kitchen type anyway.’
‘That was the problem with her,’ my mother muttered.
‘No,’ I said distinctly, quietly. ‘Not being the kitchen type is not a problem and it was not the problem with her.’
‘I was just saying,’ she subsided quickly.
‘I know, Aai. Why don’t you…?’ I tried to take her arm and steer her away from this floor and downstairs.
‘I don’t understand what’s going on. But why is she sleeping in the other room and not yours, Vik?’
I was struck mute by her insistent question.
Nine
Anika
‘But why’s she sleeping in the other room and not yours, Vik?’ A strident female voice spoke in Konkani-accented Marathi. Konkani, being the local dialect of the people of Aronda.
I woke up with a jerk from the first deep dreamless sleep I’d had in months on hearing the voice. I took a deep, calming breath and looked at the room, logging in the details.