Chapter 01 B
“How many dinners are you gonna go to?"
"I don't know, it's been a busy week. We're raising funds, but we want to focus on the right fit. It's a crucial aspect in the long run. Our team doesn't want to rush into it, could be a couple more, could be another dozen, not sure."
"Ever wanted to go to one with me?"
"What exactly are you trying to say? It's just that fundraising is hectic and takes a lot of juice out of us. Once we're done with it, we'll focus on our growth and business as usual. We've got interesting projects in the pipeline. It'd run better once we get the funds we need."
"We can catch up on a meal post that, and it's no big deal."
"It's no big deal? I seem to disagree."
"I get how important your work is, particularly in this situation, but is it really that hard to take out a few hours from the entire week for your wife?"
"I told you we'll grab a good meal together as soon as I'm done with all of this. I'll take you for our classic Aglio e olio paired with cranberry and vodka.
"I don't know, I wanna have dinner later. Tell those stupid VCs you need to cancel."
"Stupid VCs? What's gotten into you? This is important. I promise I'll make time for our dinner, but you need to give me time and have patience, and it isn't a big deal."
"No big deal again? Is that what I am to you now?
"Everything but me is a priority to you. It's been ages since I've seen you make any efforts towards me. Don't you notice anything, anything at all? Am I one dead body here wearing a baggy sweatshirt and hideous jeans? Is nothing obvious for the last so many months?"
"I'm standing half-naked in front of you, and either you're completely blind, or you've lost it all for your own goddamn wife."
"Calm down, and what's wrong?"
"You're asking me what's wrong? You miss 6 out of 7 dinners a week, and sometimes you don't show up on time either, and I wake up alone in bed, and can you remember the last time you kissed me? Can you remember the last time we had sex? Do you not understand the kind of reciprocation I want, crave, and need from you?"
"Is it too hard to understand for a man as smart as you, and you're not the person I fell for, imagined a life with, and eventually married? I was looking forward to a lifetime of passionate love-making, come before-work quickies when I'm wearing something as I'm wearing right now, to tease my man, make you lose your composure, and give in. What am I missing? What am I not doing? Do you not love me anymore? Do you not feel attracted to me anymore?"
"What is it, Adhira? You know of my ambitions since we've known each other. This is probably the most important project of my life that I'm working on. I'd expect you to be a little more considerate, love."
"And what about my needs? Do you not understand how frustrating it is not to be touched by your man? Why don't you just put your dick inside me anymore? Do I not make you hard? Just fuck me right here, right now, will you?"
"Adhira, stop embarrassing yourself, and what is this behaviour? I have work to get to. You're not in a state where I'd entertain your audacity to debate with me. Suit yourself and your cravings, do as you require yourself to, anything that satisfies your needs.”
"What do you mean, suit yourself? Am I a fucking teenager to rub myself to porn? Are you telling me the solution to this is being 17 fucking years old again? How clueless are you?"
"I said, do whatever is required, anything or everything. I won't ask or be concerned about whatever it is you do. I can't waste any more time on this, period."
"So what? Do you want me to go fuck another man? Do you want some other dick to out their filth in me? So you want to be a cuck now?"
"Vivid, but I don't care about your imagination or what you perceive of this. I'm an adult, do what it takes and don't bother me with this again.”
"Fine, I'll skip work and find myself the first man willing to take me, I'll beg him to use, moan their name, and I'll do it, I'll fucking do it."
No reaction.
He didn't even blink an eye, just left me like that.
I didn't see any possible emotion on his face, no anger, not even amusement, nothing at all. His face was sturdier than a red Indian chief. I did notice the vein pop out on his forehead. The only thing that moved was that fucking vein.
I'm not sure who I am pissed at anymore. I've never had to experience such humiliation, and that too in front of my husband. I could've never imagined that.
Guess he doesn't care, and he's always been this stable, like a noble gas. I'm putting on a thong and comparing my husband to noble gases, and could my morning be any sadder?
He's caring only exclusively and particularly negligent about things that may or can come between him and his work. He's one of the most intellectual men I've ever known, and my parents love him, my friends love him, and some are so envious they would kill for a life with him.
Whenever I am with them, they moan about their marriages, husbands not working out enough, or whatnot. They give me shit for being lucky that I have him. Maybe that's the full circle. Men think he's lucky, and women think I am.
Truth is, nobody knows what's what.
These women and so-called friends, their words have been spiders running up my spine, creeping on my skin. They don't bite me, but they keep making me feel scared and uncomfortable.
No one around me knows my world, people are as clueless as the next stranger, if not more.
All they see is a pretty-looking woman, and they think her world must be sorted, crystal clear, and full of serene experiences.
I feel like one of those clear lakes, with all the pretty rocks and floating logs, and it's so clear on the surface/ But at my depths, everything only feels shallow. This has become my story, the sadness of it.
I'm so lost, and I was talking about him, then the bitches, and now a fucking lake? He does like water, which makes him peaceful. He's hurt me for a long time and doesn't bat an eye for my emotions anymore. He's been away for a long while now. But all I can see right now is his face when he's asleep, how beautiful he looks, his messed-up but thick head of hair, and my urges to run my hands in them.
He's always less than a foot away from me, only physically, and in my heart, he's further off than the horizon. His hurt has brought me here or taken him so far away.
I don't feel married to him, and there's no one in this world I can talk about this to.
I’m at my own.
Alone.
