Candid Love

(Read the prequel here: Enigmatic Love)

I lay staring at the table watch waiting for a minute to pass and the alarm to go off. It started to beep as soon as the red lines conjoined to show 4 AM. I utterly disliked red-eye flights and completely hated the early morning ones. But as fate would have it, I was stuck with one. I got up from my bed, absolutely sleep deprived and cranky. I have never quite understood how people do their business so early in the morning; I do not think the food even gets digested in such short period of time. Just a quick shower and I were already on my way to the airport, nibbling on a warm croissant and sipping a cup of very dark coffee. 

Flying executive class has its own privileges, needless to say. By the time I landed at my destination, my bowels were empty and my stomach wasn’t. I collected my luggage and rushed back home. I caught a couple of hours’ sleep, unpacked my bags, gift wrapped the pendant I had bought for her and went in for my bath. I picked out my best dinner jacket from the wardrobe, put on that musky cologne I knew she found irresistible and picked up my iPod so Eric Clapton could accompany us till the restaurant. I wanted this evening to be perfect, just like that evening at the street-corner delicatessen had been. And we had come a long way since then; we had become closer friends; we had found a confidante in each other; we had even started referring to our gluttony-evenings as dates. 

She had brought with her the stability I was looking for in my life. She made my life sensible, complete, fun, easy, and all of it unknowingly. I meant to tell her what she meant to me, tonight. I had made reservations at her favourite restaurant, asked specifically for her most preferred table which overlooked the city. I was wearing her favourite perfume, had put on my best clothes, had trimmed my ‘savage’ beard, and was picking her up from her condominium. I had put all the music tracks she adored on my iPod, starting from Eric Clapton’s romantic numbers right till Marilyn Manson’s suicidal rock. I meant to sway her from her feet this time, and in style.

The clock struck seven o’clock and I was tying my shoe laces, bang on time. I do not remember being so excited in the near history. I had beads of sweat forming on my forehead in spite of the air conditioner keeping the room’s temperature at a comfortable twenty two degrees centigrade. I picked up all the items I had arranged on the bed, took my car keys from the bowl by the door and dropped a text informing her that I was on my way to pick her up. She was already sitting in the waiting area of her lobby as I pulled my car up her driveway. She was looking captivating in a blue dress with her hair let loose; the bright lip colour which always made her dark black eyes seem all the more darker and deeper; her heels which she carried with such poise and elegance; and her long, slender fingers grasping on the little purse with utmost care and casualness at the same time. 

I opened the door for her as she touched my arm lightly and kissed me on the cheek. My ears were burning with anxiety and desires. “You look wonderful, tonight”, hummed Eric as we drove to the restaurant, she- lost in his voice, and I- in her presence. The table was ready when we reached and I gave her the present as soon as we settled down. She seemed very excited as she was un-wrapping the gift with one hand while clutching upon my hand with the other. She was dumb-struck for a moment when she saw the diamond pendant and figured out why I was gifting her such an expensive present. She immediately kept it back in its box and looked at me straight in the eye. I knew something had changed. Something had changed since I had gone for the month-long tour. Something had changed in her life during this time when I was inaccessible. 

I smiled a reassuring smile, although I was not sure who needed the reassurance at that moment. She took her glass of wine and downed it in one go. It was courage, she needed, not my reassurances. Courage to tell me that she had found someone for whom she felt the way I feel for her. I did not let the smile on my face vanish for a moment. I was still psyched to be with her. I held her hand and congratulated her. I told her how happy I was for her and that I wanted to meet the guy at the earliest. She smiled, as we finished the rest of our meal talking about that fortunate guy.



(Read the continuation here: Inscrutable Love)