Page 79
Story: The Ex Factor
“Yup. These are battery-operated, and I have a remote right here,” he said, showing me a tiny one in his hand.
“Goodness, you have thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Not me. It’s the staff. I think they are used to such curious requests from their employers.” He chuckled as I removed my silk robe, folded it, and placed it by my pillow.
He pulled the covers on him and lay down with a contented look on his face.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked when I slipped under a plush duvet.
“Yes,” I whispered. “You?”
“Very.”
We lay there gazing at the dark horizon, where the sea and the sky blended in the same color. Indigo. The color of calm. Of contentment and a higher connection. Just like I had with the man beside me. What was it that I felt about him? What was the spirit of our connection? I listened to the waves and stared at the indigo, searching for clarity and answers.
“Can we turn the lights off?” I asked softly.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” he replied as a noiseless click ushered us into darkness.
The château behind us was bathed in dim golden lights, but it looked so far way. The world felt so far away. This space was ours. So was the silence. I tried listening to the rhythm of the sea again. This time, I wasn’t looking for answers. Only solace, and I found it in the sound of the waves surfing up to the sand and back. Sujit was right. This was the best way we could have spent the last night here.
“Sujit, are you asleep?” I asked with my sight still set on the horizon.
“Yes, I’m in deep sleep right now.”
An unintended laughter rocked my entire body. “This is straight from that Aamir Khan movie!”
As I turned my face to him, he opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Darn, I thought this was as original as it came,” he deadpanned.
I laughed harder until I realized I couldn’t figure out if he was joking.
“You really didn’t know?” I cried with incredulity, then realized not every second-gen Indian kid had grown up on Bollywood. He had said he didn’t understand much Hindi. It was possible he grew up on a completely different set of Indian movies.
“Have you watched any Hindi movies?” I asked.
“Some. My parents are big Bollywood buffs. But I needed subtitles, and not many prints had those.”
True, they didn’t.
“Did you watch Telugu movies growing up, then?”
“Only the ones my parents watched. Mom also watched Tamil movies. And all my superstar idols growing up were from South Indian cinema.”
“You are a treasure, Sujit.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
I turned to face him. “No, it’s genuine appreciation.”
My eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, spotted his bright smile. “So are you, Aarti. A genuine treasure. Your work ethic alone surpasses anyone I know.”
“Mom sometimes complains that I’m a workaholic like Dad, but I’m not one, and neither is Dad. Dad worked hard to provide for us. Once the business took off, he had to keep up with the pace of its growth. We both love what we do, but we have never prioritized work over people or family.”
“I rest my case,” he said.
“What case was that?” I teased.
“Goodness, you have thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Not me. It’s the staff. I think they are used to such curious requests from their employers.” He chuckled as I removed my silk robe, folded it, and placed it by my pillow.
He pulled the covers on him and lay down with a contented look on his face.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked when I slipped under a plush duvet.
“Yes,” I whispered. “You?”
“Very.”
We lay there gazing at the dark horizon, where the sea and the sky blended in the same color. Indigo. The color of calm. Of contentment and a higher connection. Just like I had with the man beside me. What was it that I felt about him? What was the spirit of our connection? I listened to the waves and stared at the indigo, searching for clarity and answers.
“Can we turn the lights off?” I asked softly.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” he replied as a noiseless click ushered us into darkness.
The château behind us was bathed in dim golden lights, but it looked so far way. The world felt so far away. This space was ours. So was the silence. I tried listening to the rhythm of the sea again. This time, I wasn’t looking for answers. Only solace, and I found it in the sound of the waves surfing up to the sand and back. Sujit was right. This was the best way we could have spent the last night here.
“Sujit, are you asleep?” I asked with my sight still set on the horizon.
“Yes, I’m in deep sleep right now.”
An unintended laughter rocked my entire body. “This is straight from that Aamir Khan movie!”
As I turned my face to him, he opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Darn, I thought this was as original as it came,” he deadpanned.
I laughed harder until I realized I couldn’t figure out if he was joking.
“You really didn’t know?” I cried with incredulity, then realized not every second-gen Indian kid had grown up on Bollywood. He had said he didn’t understand much Hindi. It was possible he grew up on a completely different set of Indian movies.
“Have you watched any Hindi movies?” I asked.
“Some. My parents are big Bollywood buffs. But I needed subtitles, and not many prints had those.”
True, they didn’t.
“Did you watch Telugu movies growing up, then?”
“Only the ones my parents watched. Mom also watched Tamil movies. And all my superstar idols growing up were from South Indian cinema.”
“You are a treasure, Sujit.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
I turned to face him. “No, it’s genuine appreciation.”
My eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, spotted his bright smile. “So are you, Aarti. A genuine treasure. Your work ethic alone surpasses anyone I know.”
“Mom sometimes complains that I’m a workaholic like Dad, but I’m not one, and neither is Dad. Dad worked hard to provide for us. Once the business took off, he had to keep up with the pace of its growth. We both love what we do, but we have never prioritized work over people or family.”
“I rest my case,” he said.
“What case was that?” I teased.
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