The Affair - Concluding Part.

I turned the key and entered in. What I see in front of me stuns me!

On the dining table was a red velvet cheese cake along with a hugh bouquet of mix yellow carnations, red roses and orchids. Besides them was my dear Mr Iyer. Sleepy and tired, resting his chin on his folded hands on the table. Clearly waiting for me. 

On the cake it was written --Happy 27 years To Us

It striked me! 'It’s our wedding anniversary!!!! How could I miss it?'

Mr Iyer was elated to see me says “Where have you been?  Trying to reach your phone since so long! Guess again you missed charging your phone. I was so worried!" 

Before I could reply to any of his questions, he comes and hugs me. "Never mind. It's ok. Wishing you a very happy wedding anniversary". He hands over a huge bouquet of my favourite flowers, yellow Lilies. He comes close to me and we kiss each other. 

My feeling at this moment cannot be described in words. This was my utmost wish, to get some kind of attention, some gesture, the feeling of being loved, just like our younger days from my husband. And now while I was getting more than I had ever expected, I was feeling choked in guilt. 
“Excuse me! It’s my anniversary as well. Won’t you want to wish me Ms Rati Agnihotri?". 

I look at my husband, tears uncontrollably rolling down my cheeks. "I am so sorry; I missed such an important date". 

Wiping off my tears he makes me sit down. Then takes my hand in his and says, "For once I have remembered something without you reminding me. Don't be sorry. I know my behaviour in the past has hurt you. I kept running behind success, in the bargain of ignoring you and taking our relationship for granted. I realised this only when from past one month I could see you kind of doing the same. I just couldn't bear you avoiding me. Trust me, your nagging sounds better than your silence." 

I chuckled. 

He lights a tea candle next to the cake, 

"Shall we cut the cake? I am hungry " 

I start to think on what to cook at the earliest for dinner and he guesses it. 

"By the way I have ordered food from our favourite Andhra Restaurant for us. Hope you are fine with it." 

"It's perfect” I say.

With a smile and wet eyes, I hold the knife along with my husband and we blow-off the candle together. 

Later, after feeding each other a piece of cake, we receive wishes from our sons and daughters-in-law. It was indeed a perfect evening.

 

Next day was Saturday. We together made our favourite breakfast 'Pesarattu and Chakkara Pongal'. I have off on weekends from college but Mr. Iyer usually works for few hours from work on weekends. While having breakfast, he receives a call. From his reaction I could gauge that the client was persistent in meeting him today while Mr. Iyer was trying to push the meeting to Monday. Finally, they reach to a conclusion to meet at our place for a preliminary discussion and then the micro level talks would take place on Monday at office. This was very unlike
of Mr Iyer, who otherwise would have prioritised his work under any circumstances.  I could see, he was trying his best to change for better, for me.  

Later in the Kitchen, while placing the weekly groceries, the stock of ginger and coffee reminded me of AD. Specifically the coffee reminded me of his weird allergy and this amusing incident which he  narrated to me when we met the previous evening – It was his wedding day and he unavoidably had to have a cup of coffee offered to him by some aged uncle-in-law, just to create a good impression. The outcome of the same was disastrous. He had so many ugly eruptions on his face and body that his wife was scared to spend the first night with him! 

I mentally chide myself to avoid thinking about AD. Then I realize that to some extent it is because of him that things have started improving between Mr Iyer and me. 

The doorbell gets me out of my thoughts  and I walk to the drawing room to join Mr. Iyer in welcoming his client. 

Mr Iyer opens the door and greets him in. “Please come in Mr Arnav Das. Meet my wife Mrs Iyer."  I feel cramps in my feet when I see AD entering my home. 

I welcome AD, with a nervous smile. He obviously looks baffled seeing me. Mr Iyer and AD sit on the sofa while I sit on the side couch. 
It was apparent to me that my presence made AD very uncomfortable.

While they discuss work, I excuse myself and go in the kitchen with all thoughts running in my head. ‘So, AD is Arnav Das. He runs a HR firm, and he is not a music teacher? Or possibly music would be his secondary career. Could be his passion too' I think to myself.

Just then the doorbell rings again. And I hear Mr Iyer saying "Oh good! Now we can discuss in detail"  I go out to check. 

A lady enters in. And Mr. Iyer once again takes the role of introducing. 
"Welcome Mrs. Das. Please meet my wife Mrs. Iyer." 

Did I hear it right? I am totally confused now.

I try looking at AD who is adamantly avoiding eye contact with me. 

Mr Iyer continues, "Mr and Mrs Das together run a successful HR firm since more than 30 years in Delhi. They together  had started this firm as soon as they got married. Isn't it lovely?" 

The lady smiles with pride, while AD wiping off the sweat from his face, tries to smile as well. 

"Oh, it is indeed lovely! Welcome Mrs. Das" I give a fake smile and just sit on the nearby chair. It was getting too much for me to handle in a short time. 

I am dumbfounded. Could not contemplate as to why AD went on to make up such dreaded stories about his wife? Just for mere sympathy, in order to grab quick attention in chat? His wife's illness, death and him going all bounds in selflessly taking care of her was the very soul of our chat. It was the very reason I had to a large extent got attracted to him! I felt so foolish of myself.

After they were comfortably seated, my husband asked them as to what they would like to have. 

To which AD looked at Mr Iyer and then at me. He had the audacity to tell me with a very sorry, puppy-kind of face "Please, if it isn't too much of a trouble for you, tea with little bit of cardamon, cinnamon, pepper and ginger will do" 

Looking right in his eyes I smiled and he smiled back at me. 

Then  I retorted, politely,

"I am so sorry; our stock of ginger and cinnamon is over. Would you like to have a cup of coffee instead Mr Arnav Das?"

 

- Sharon Lasrado.

 

'A big thank you to all of you for stopping-by and encouraging me with your continuous messages and feedback throughout the journey of 'The Affair'. It means a lot for an amateur writer like me. Special thanks to my dearest friends, Ryan Furtado, Nilofer Bohra and Susan David(bff) who helped me in editing this story. 
Hoping to see you all soon, in another interesting journey.'