The Wrong Woman

7. Dhruv

The bar wasn't my go-to place to hang out with mates.

Apparently it was Anish's.

He took a sip of his wine and smacked his lips, and I couldn't help but smile. "You invited me out so you could get drunk off your head?"

"Maybe."

"Don't look at me. I'm not looking after you."

He chuckled. "It'd be better than looking after your cranky ass wife."

My smile was swiped off my face. Anish scratched the back of his neck. "Crap, sorry. I wasn't trying to—"

"I get it. You're not wrong."

Anish looked at me, long and hard, before shaking his head. "I really don't understand you. Why do you like her so much? Just get divorced if you're both so unhappy."

Divorce.

"It's not that simple," I finally said.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure all you do is sign a few documents and move on with your life."

If it were that easy, I was pretty sure every person on this planet would do it in their sleep. "It's not just about signing a couple of documents. It's about breaking a connection with the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with." I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about divorce and what that would mean—the changes that would bring and the future.

My future.

When every single thought included Rani, now having to think about what it would be like without her felt off. I never dwelled on it for too long, pretending as if it wasn't going to happen. Neither of us had really mentioned the word. I knew that that was more prevalent in her mind; I could tell. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"Divorce would be the easier option," I told Anish. I didn't want to tell him that I was contemplating it myself, even just for a little bit. Even if both of us were at our wits end, I didn't want this to fail.

I thought back to a few months ago, when I was an idiot and hadn't picked up on the cues that things were going downhill. She cracked her neck occasionally as she slouched over her phone, popping watermelon cubes into her mouth.

"Overtime causing you trouble?" I'd asked, placing my book onto my lap.

She frowned. "How'd you know?"

"You've been coming home late and looking over files well into the night." She tore her eyes away from mine. "You should go to a GP and get that checked out. You've been having issues with your neck for a while now." When she didn't respond, I took that as a cue to shut up. But she continued rolling her neck and cracking it from side to side; her face wrinkled as if it was causing her constant pain. I raised my eyebrows at her from my position in the hammock chair and had asked, "Want me to massage your neck?" She hadn't responded. "I'll get you a heat pack at least. That way the pain won't get worse." I went to get up to bring her that heat pack when she chucked the fork with a watermelon chunk still on it at me.

"If I want you to do something for me, I'll ask," she snapped.

I could only watch her storm off. Maybe she was right, like she'd said many times before. Maybe I was the problem.

"Earth to Dhruv," Anish called, waving his hand in my face. "You good?"

"Yeah." No. I cleared my throat. "Some days are worse than most. I don't know how things got so bad. It doesn't make sense."

"You two met, fell in love and got married all within the span of two years. Maybe you got bored of each other."

I hummed. "Isn't that normal? When the highs of the honeymoon phase goes away you...I don't know, adapt and become tame."

"Maybe she wants the excitement she felt when you two first met." It was only natural to me that things became serious as our marriage progressed. Maybe not so on Rani's part.

"That's why I'm trying," I finally said. "I'm hoping she'll remember what it used to be like. Becoming less sporadic doesn't mean we have to skimp out on the things we used to love."

"I know but marriage goes both ways. What if for her, it's too late? Do you really want to put yourself through unnecessary heartache?"

"I don't know," I confessed.

Anish eyed me over the rim of his glass. "Not all marriages will last, Dhruv. I think you just need to accept that." My phone dinged and a part of me hoped that it was Rani, asking me where I was like she used to. Instead, it was just a reminder for me to start experimenting on different cake flavours.

Deflated, I stared down at the wallpaper on my phone's background; my parents bright smiles and sparkling eyes taunted me, comparing their happiness against mine. Anish was right. I didn't want to accept that my marriage was falling apart. I was doing everything in my willpower to make sure it didn't slip through my fingers even though my own shaky feelings reflected it. Everything I did was only speeding up the inevitable. I knew it. Rani knew it, too.

The difference was that she never tried and I couldn't stop.

***

"I'm going to go out with Sandra today and tomorrow I'm working overtime," Rani told me the next day, a fuzzy bath towel on her arm. "In case you complain about not letting you know."

I clenched my jaw but said nothing. I gestured to the plate of food that I covered with cling wrap in case she got hungry but then lowered my hand. She wasn't even looking at me. I lifted my shoulders in a light shrug; I'd eat it tomorrow, then.

Guessed that gave me more time to read another book. I had already read The Climb and it had become my new favourite so far. Over the top of the current book, I could see the disgusted face she was making as she shot sly glances over at the cover; A Dog's Purpose. Of course, her most hated animal. Where I would normally make a teasing remark, I kept mum and watched as she went up the stairs to get ready.

It wasn't until fifteen minutes had passed that I decided to brush my teeth and call it a night. I could watch one of the documentaries I had saved or read some more but I really wasn't feeling it. I had the whole house to myself as always and the only thing that sounded inviting was the bed.

I walked into the bathroom where Rani was taking a shower and grabbed my toothbrush. Neither of us spoke; only the sound of the water hitting at her exposed skin and the tiles, as well as the whirring of my electric toothbrush, surrounded us.

We were both like zombies forced to follow a set of rules because we had to. Why? Neither of us could answer that properly.

For the first time, Rani initiated something else in that same day. "Sandra asked me to tell you she misses hanging out with you."

"Tell her that I—"

"Tell her yourself," came the cold reply. Our eyes met through the mirror. Her hair was soapy with shampoo. There was the Rani I knew, I thought with an internal grunt. I turned my gaze back to my own reflection. My eyes were as flat as obsidian rocks, focusing on doing what I needed to do and leaving.

This was our life now. And I would be lying if I said I wasn't used to it.