Page 51
Story: The Ex Factor
She’d nodded with a smile. “You know how often he says I love you?”
I’d snorted. “Never?” I loved my dad, but I knew him well. He held that showing emotion was a sign of weakness.
Mom had laughed. “No, silly girl. He used to whisper it to me when we got married, but as life got busier, as he got busier, he didn’t remember to say it as often. But every night, there’s water at my bedside and my slippers are on the rug by my bed. Even when we’ve had a fight, my slippers are there. Even after we had a housekeeper, he’s the one who makes sure my slippers are by my bed every morning. That’s how I know I’m loved.”
“So, you’re saying don’t fall for chocolates and flowers?”
She’d laughed her beautiful laugh. “You can if it makes you happy. Gift them too, if it brings you happiness. But those won’t be the instances that will stay with you.”
“What’s the most touching instance you remember?”
Mom hadn’t even blinked. “When you were kids, we went to the Smoky Mountains. Do you remember?”
I nodded. We’d gone with three other families and had the best Thanksgiving break I remembered from my childhood.
“We had rented this lavish home. A grand cabin in the mountains. It came equipped with everything, the kitchen stocked with the staples. But guess what was missing? Sugar.”
“Huh?”
“Satish woke up early that morning to make tea and realized there was no sugar. You know he doesn’t mind having his tea without sugar, so he could’ve called the property managers later, and they would have dropped it off, but it would’ve taken a while. Instead, before I woke up, he drove the long miles down the mountain into the city because he knew I’d never drink my chai without sugar.”
“That’s not a small thing. It’s a grand gesture,” I’d objected.
“Yes, but there was no grandstanding about it. He was back before I woke up, and he’d made the tea for me. I didn’t even know about it until that evening when we gathered around the bonfire, and one of our friends complimented me on being such a lucky woman.”
The little things.
When I first joined Dad in his business, I studied him. From him, I learned the art of emotional stoicism. I learned how to keep myself guarded against hurt, pain, and manipulation. Decisions with your head, not your heart, he’d ingrained in me. It had taken me months to open up to Sameer, but we had never shared the joys of small things. We exchanged expensive gifts and shared extravagant holidays. We hobnobbed at exclusive parties, but when we were cuddled up in front of the television in his condo, the warmth from his arm around me never managed to reach my soul. It was as if the distance between his heart and mine could never be bridged with the intermingling of our bodies. In the end, he’d taken my heart and crushed it under the weight of his happiness with Tara.
My eyes traveled to Sujit as he scanned around the living area of the suite and asked, “You have the keys to the new place?”
“It has an electronic keypad.”
He nodded and said, “Anything we need to pick up on the way?”
“No.” I shook my head and followed him out.
The little things,it made perfect sense now.
When we arrived at the condo, he requested the driver to help carry some things from the trunk. I noticed an unfamiliar holdall in the luggage we carried up the elevators. He offered to hold my satchel while I unlocked the door.
“This is it!” I said with a trembling breath. “My first home, exclusively in my name.”
As I began to enter, his hand came swiftly around my wrist. “Wait,” came his hurried plea.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s silly, but my mother always makes me put the right foot across the threshold first.”
I smiled. I’d seen and heard this several times before, but I never thought I’d be the one to believe in the good luck that this innocuous step would garner. I pulled my right foot up dramatically, but before I crossed that threshold defined by the door, I pulled it back.
Looking into his face, I took his hand and interlaced my fingers with his. “Will you do me the honor of entering my house with me?”
A look of surprise flashed across his face, and he blinked. A sweet smile quickly appeared, putting two perfect dents in his clean-shaven face. “It would be an honor.”
We matched our timing and stepped inside the apartment together. After the ritualistic inaugural entry, we went back out and rolled in my suitcases.
“What’s in this one?” I asked, nodding at the extra holdall.
I’d snorted. “Never?” I loved my dad, but I knew him well. He held that showing emotion was a sign of weakness.
Mom had laughed. “No, silly girl. He used to whisper it to me when we got married, but as life got busier, as he got busier, he didn’t remember to say it as often. But every night, there’s water at my bedside and my slippers are on the rug by my bed. Even when we’ve had a fight, my slippers are there. Even after we had a housekeeper, he’s the one who makes sure my slippers are by my bed every morning. That’s how I know I’m loved.”
“So, you’re saying don’t fall for chocolates and flowers?”
She’d laughed her beautiful laugh. “You can if it makes you happy. Gift them too, if it brings you happiness. But those won’t be the instances that will stay with you.”
“What’s the most touching instance you remember?”
Mom hadn’t even blinked. “When you were kids, we went to the Smoky Mountains. Do you remember?”
I nodded. We’d gone with three other families and had the best Thanksgiving break I remembered from my childhood.
“We had rented this lavish home. A grand cabin in the mountains. It came equipped with everything, the kitchen stocked with the staples. But guess what was missing? Sugar.”
“Huh?”
“Satish woke up early that morning to make tea and realized there was no sugar. You know he doesn’t mind having his tea without sugar, so he could’ve called the property managers later, and they would have dropped it off, but it would’ve taken a while. Instead, before I woke up, he drove the long miles down the mountain into the city because he knew I’d never drink my chai without sugar.”
“That’s not a small thing. It’s a grand gesture,” I’d objected.
“Yes, but there was no grandstanding about it. He was back before I woke up, and he’d made the tea for me. I didn’t even know about it until that evening when we gathered around the bonfire, and one of our friends complimented me on being such a lucky woman.”
The little things.
When I first joined Dad in his business, I studied him. From him, I learned the art of emotional stoicism. I learned how to keep myself guarded against hurt, pain, and manipulation. Decisions with your head, not your heart, he’d ingrained in me. It had taken me months to open up to Sameer, but we had never shared the joys of small things. We exchanged expensive gifts and shared extravagant holidays. We hobnobbed at exclusive parties, but when we were cuddled up in front of the television in his condo, the warmth from his arm around me never managed to reach my soul. It was as if the distance between his heart and mine could never be bridged with the intermingling of our bodies. In the end, he’d taken my heart and crushed it under the weight of his happiness with Tara.
My eyes traveled to Sujit as he scanned around the living area of the suite and asked, “You have the keys to the new place?”
“It has an electronic keypad.”
He nodded and said, “Anything we need to pick up on the way?”
“No.” I shook my head and followed him out.
The little things,it made perfect sense now.
When we arrived at the condo, he requested the driver to help carry some things from the trunk. I noticed an unfamiliar holdall in the luggage we carried up the elevators. He offered to hold my satchel while I unlocked the door.
“This is it!” I said with a trembling breath. “My first home, exclusively in my name.”
As I began to enter, his hand came swiftly around my wrist. “Wait,” came his hurried plea.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s silly, but my mother always makes me put the right foot across the threshold first.”
I smiled. I’d seen and heard this several times before, but I never thought I’d be the one to believe in the good luck that this innocuous step would garner. I pulled my right foot up dramatically, but before I crossed that threshold defined by the door, I pulled it back.
Looking into his face, I took his hand and interlaced my fingers with his. “Will you do me the honor of entering my house with me?”
A look of surprise flashed across his face, and he blinked. A sweet smile quickly appeared, putting two perfect dents in his clean-shaven face. “It would be an honor.”
We matched our timing and stepped inside the apartment together. After the ritualistic inaugural entry, we went back out and rolled in my suitcases.
“What’s in this one?” I asked, nodding at the extra holdall.
Table of Contents
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