The Wrong Woman

13. Mouna

I glanced around the house. There were frames placed upside down on the shelf near the door, as if the occupants of this house deliberately wanted to forget something. I wondered what it was briefly before Rani's phone rang incessantly with a caller ID of someone I didn't know. Would it be safe to pick up or ignore it? I quickly switched the phone off and glanced at the man who was busy washing the dishes.

I wanted to offer to help, but I still didn't know who he was or if helping and pretending to be Rani was the best thing to do.

It really was the only thing to do, it seemed. My grandma was having fun eating spaghetti so I assumed she was doing okay and my body...I could only gather Rani was inside my body. I didn't know what to do with that information. When could I speak to her and try to change things?

Should I hide in the bedroom until I woke up? Would things go back to normal in the morning? Most likely not, my own voice told me. I had thought the very same thing when I took a nap, hoping it was only a nightmare but it was indeed, very real. Maybe the best thing to do was play along for now.

At least until I could find answers myself and decide what to do. I tried not to think about my own life and how Raj would very well fire me and my factory job would replace me in a heartbeat. By the time I got back, if I ever did, my grandma and I would be homeless.

No, don't think about that! I thought to myself.

"Excuse me," I began, bringing my empty plate to him.

"You finished it," he said, framed as a statement of disbelief.

"Oh, did you want some? I'm so sorry—"

"No, it's not that. You never finish your food. I always have to force you." He reached out to take it but I pulled it back, a shy smile on my face. I knew I was raising suspicion—I must not be anything like Rani. Cool, collected, confident Rani I was not. I tried to straighten my shoulders and hold my head high but that only warranted a raised eyebrow from the man. "You should go rest," he said.

Deflated at being called out so soon, I offered, "I'll wash the dishes."

He gawked at me. "You want to wash the dishes?"

"Yes, why?"

"You must've hit your head pretty hard if you're willing to wash the dishes for me."

"Why?" I asked again. Was it so surprising? Did Rani not wash the dishes?

"You hate doing chores."

"I do? I-I mean, yes...I do," I added, when he gave me a side-glance. "I guess I really am not feeling well. I just thought that things would be done easier if we both did it together. You must be tired after all that cooking."

"Rani, you're not well. I don't want you to slip on water here and hit your head again or something."

"I won't. I'll be very careful, I promise!" I smiled like how I remembered she had; just a tiny quirk of the lips that showed enough teeth but not too much.

He eyed me before his forehead smoothed out of any wrinkles. "All right. I guess I can't say no to help. You dry and I'll wash."

We took up our job roles, awkward silence washing over us. I was itching to ask so many questions but in his point of view, it would only come off as being weird. How was I to go about it?

"Thank you...for being so kind to me," I said, instead. He didn't look at me or smile. He was busy washing the plates with more attention than I had ever seen someone give.

"No need. I think it's the least I can do."

"You didn't have to," I pressed, hoping for more information.

"Course I did, you dork."

My shoulders deflated yet again when I realised he wasn't going to be adding anything more. "Your food was delicious!" I found myself saying. "It was like eating at a five star restaurant but much better." Of course, I'd never been to one, but maybe Rani had. I had to be as authentic as I could so he would believe that I really was Rani.

"If any five star restaurant chefs heard you say that, they'd have your head on their menu."

"They probably wouldn't be able to make my head taste as good as you."

This got a chuckle out of him. "Full of compliments today, aren't you?" And yet, I knew nothing about him now than I did before. I forced a smile before rubbing my eyes and my head for show. "You really took a good hit, huh?"

"Huh?"

I felt the towel leave my hand and Dhruv gently push me aside. "Here, I'll do it. I don't want you to overdo anything." I felt like a statue, staring at his broad back, muscles rippling as he washed and scrubbed with his yellow gloves and pink apron.

Even though it wasn't the best time to be thinking this, I was right in thinking Rani had a good life. Whoever this was, he was a very good man.