Inferno Hearts

When It All Crumbled

Pressing down on the door handle, I make my way into Nandini's room, my feet crossing over the threshold with their usual long-legged strides that stem from a confidence that is borne out of entitlement. As always, my wife's novels are scattered across the wide expanse of the floor; no particular order in sight for their haphazard arrangement.

Of course, owing to the fact that this is Nandini's chamber, no one is allowed in here except Celeste and I, for fear that someone might disturb her belongings. After all, there is no shortage of nosy busybodies roaming the hallways of this house. Tracing my usual path through my wife's chamber - a way that I could navigate blindfolded by now - I allow my feet to carry me till her desk. The familiar ink stains that are ever present wherever Nandini works have turned this desk into her very own canvas. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I brush my fingers over the colourful wood. Ever since Nandini set foot in this house, the maids and carpenters have been on their toes; the whispers of their woes so potent that they reached my ears as well.

"What're we reading today?" I murmur, glancing around the piles of novels. One of her sickly sweet romance novel? The day I took a genuine interest in the little library of books that she's accumulated for herself, I easily caught onto the knowledge that Nandini's interest and collection of romance novels began post our marriage. I easily deduced this because out of all the books, these are the least abused; none of their pages are yellowing yet with age, and nor has the binding had the opportunity to weather by being opened time and again.

However, there are a few romantic pieces of literature in here that I know she's brought with her from her father's home because those are the ones with the corners of the pages bent over at various intervals, their pages imprinted with the impression of her fingers, and their bindings cracked because of the infinite number of times that she's opened the novel, only to delve into its world for a short while before being called back to her reality.

Bending down, I grab the first book off the top of the pile. Without bothering to so much as glance its title, I lower myself into the chair that's in front of Nandini's desk, and flip the novel open to its first chapter.

"I wonder how you say goodbye to someone forever?" I read, my hoarse voice barely above a whisper. Truthfully not many people would remember the sound of my voice any longer. Nor would I. It is for me but a mere disused tool that gathers dust nowadays. As it is, Nandini's always been the talkative one between the two of us, so launching into a conversation with no full-stop and comma in sight is truly not my forte.

*****

"Alright, that's it!" The door to Nandini's chamber bangs open, the door-handle ramming itself into the wall behind it.

Furrowing my brows, I brace myself to give the intruder a firm set-down for damaging even in the slightest of property in my wife's room. What if the door-handle is dented? Perhaps the wall is damaged? It's only natural that I will ensure both the items are fixed at the earliest because if there's anything I know about my wife, it's that she absolutely despises someone else causing harm to her personal belongings, or property. Heck, she's so anally cautious about them herself.

"Why the fuck are you submerged in absolute darkness?" Rohit asks, blinking in quick succession in an attempt to accustom his eyes to the lack of light in the room.

"I didn't realise," I say, pushing myself upright in the chair. Gingerly, I place the novel on the desk facedown, so that I can continue with my progress once I've gotten rid of Rohit's unwanted, unexpected intrusion. In truth, Nandini's room is shrouded in darkness, not a single candle illuminating even the smallest corner of it.

"However in god's name were you reading without a sliver of light?" My friend hurls yet another question my way, his voice submerged in irritation.

"That's of no consequence," I dismiss Rohit's concern. "What's imperative is that you don't damage the property of my wife's room simply because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." I raise my eyebrow at Rohit, urging him to show me some form of acknowledgement, but he merely continues to stare at me, and so I continue.