Chapter Nine

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Chapter Nine

October 2012

      The clock on the dashboard read 11:24 pm. The yellow glow from the streetlights flashed and retreated on the dash... the familiar turning to his house came into view. At this time, the streets were deserted. Cold air from the AC blasted him, and an old song, from the early eighties, poured out of the radio. With one hand perched on the steering and the other changing gears, Gautam slowed his car. The main gate of his house loomed in the distance, an intricate wrought iron barricade, framed by two long rows of hedges and green plants. As his car stopped before the now swinging gates, spitting gravel, the guards got up to salute him.

     One more long day at the office, with nothing accomplished except the same old routine: the same technology, the same equipment, the same designs for mobile handsets. No wonder his life felt stagnant. Gautam slid the car into the garage, turning off the AC and the radio. Then he leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Despite doing nothing great, he was exhausted. The thought of going home, of seeing Geet's face first thing when she opened the door for him, increased his reluctance to get out of the car.

      Can't escape forever, his mind said. But he wished he could.

      Gautam's eyes fell on his cell phone—the same one that his company had produced and was still producing two years later—and he picked it up. The message he'd received a few hours ago was still open on his screen.

      "Amount received. Thanks for helping. Do remember our agreement and keep this secret. Love, M." With a bitter snap, he closed the display and locked his phone.

       The night was pleasant; crickets chirped in the lawns, filling the silence with their merry chatter. His shoes crunched over the gravel path as he walked towards the main door. No lights were on—it was a surprise. Every evening, when he returned, the living room light was always on. Geet was always waiting up for him. But tonight, there were no lights. For a moment, a small moment, relief filled him. Perhaps there would be no Geet, either. He rang the bell, hoping it to be answered almost immediately, but it didn't. Not tonight.

      After ringing the bell a couple of more times, Gautam heard the door unlock, and the butler's face appear in the doorway. "I'm extremely sorry, Master Kapoor. I dozed off."

      Gautam stepped in, removing his coat and handing it to the man who held out his hand for it. Then he said, "It's alright."

      "Shall I get you anything, Master? A glass of water?"

      "No, thank you. I'll be fine, Ravi."

      "Very well, Master."

      The young man trotted inside, leaving him alone in the dimly lit hall. The house felt unnaturally silent, and somehow, even though he was relieved at Geet's absence, he couldn't help wondering why she hadn't stayed up for him. She did every evening.

      It's a good thing, his mind said. It's what I wanted.

      As he flopped down on the couch, placing his suitcase by his feet, Gautam closed his eyes and leaned back, thinking about his day in the office. It was funny how work no longer bothered or interested him. It felt like a chore... it felt like a necessary evil. It was there... that was all. There was no passion, no real interest, and no consideration for how the company progressed. His life had turned into one fucked up mess, and here he was, leaning back on his couch, reliving old nightmares.

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