Forget-Me-Not : Bound by Secrets

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

When Varun woke up the next day, the bed was empty. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, then sat up in bed and saw Dia getting ready in front of the mirror. It was the big day today, he realized. Her sister's wedding. But somehow the dress Dia was wearing didn't seem like the one she'd chosen for the wedding. A concerned expression came over his face and he looked at her, trying to gauge her mood. She looked serious. She looked unhappy. Yesterday hadn't been good for her, he remembered. He'd seen her break down for the first time. And it had freaked him out.

"Dia?" he said, and she looked at him from the mirror.

"Morning," she replied automatically, putting on white studs for earrings. She was wearing a white salwar kameez, which gave her a serious and demure look, and her hair was tied loosely. Her eyes were slightly red and the lids were swollen. He realized that she'd been crying in bed for quite late last night. And he felt another bout of concern for her.

"Hey," he said, going to her, "Are you alright?"

Before he could touch her, she moved away from him.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look like you're going to the wedding," he said softly, leaning against the wall as he looked at her.

"I'm not going to the wedding. I'm going to the funeral."

Before yesterday, she'd never mentioned having any friends to him. He'd come to know about someone called Ananya only the previous day when she'd received that phone call, and broken down in his arms. He wondered how important her friend must have been, because Dia never ditched family. But right now, she was choosing her friend over her sister. And somehow it gave him a rare idea to how Dia's mind worked. For the first time, he actually saw her loyalty. With her mother, Dia had always behaved as if she was doing those things forcefully. But today she looked resolute and sure of herself. Today she was doing something that she believed in, even though it would offend her mother, and also her sister.

"I'll come with you," he said, and she stopped, looking at him with a startled expression.

"You don't need to. It would be better if you went to the wedding, and made up some excuse for me. That way, mother wouldn't have to blame you as well as me. God knows she likes blaming me more than you. I don't want you to lose her confidence or something."

He pursed his lips and folded his hand across his chest. "If you think I'm going to let you go there all alone, then you're wrong. I'm coming with you." She began to open her mouth to argue, but he beat her to it. "Don't say anything else. I'll get ready, and we'll go together. Just tell me what time you have to be there."

She looked at him with a slightly queer expression, and then sighed. "Fine," she mumbled. "We have to be there by half past nine."

He nodded, and she looked away. As he watched his wife, Varun felt something like sadness. He'd always tried to be attentive to her, to shower her with affection. He'd always tried to make up for the lost love she hadn't received from her family, by giving her twice as much. But she didn't see it. She never let him take care of her. Every time he took a step towards her, she pulled back. He couldn't understand her. Was it because she was convinced that no one would ever like her the way she was? Or was it because she didn't want love from him? He had no idea.

So he did the only thing possible under the circumstances, and went to shower and get ready. For one thing, he wanted to keep giving her everything she asked for. And he was also curious about meeting people whom she would know at the funeral. He was curious about knowing a bit of his wife's past, which he'd never known before.