Fiction: Twists Of Love
He shifted on the bar stool and looked towards the main door. His eyes met hers. She wasn't the one he was waiting for. Part of him registered that she was attractive. She was curvy, with pretty eyes, wavy hair. She wore a black top with a plunging neckline along with black trousers.
The steward spoke to her and took her to a table. His eyes went back to the door. Where was she? He had been waiting for over fifteen minutes. He looked at his watch once more and then at the door. He fidgeted, turned back to take a sip of his whiskey sour and again trained his eyes on the door. He knew he was acting like a twenty year old and less like the thirty five year old man that he was.
She had finally agreed to go out with him as a date and not as a friend. He had watched her go through disappointments and heartbreaks for over five years and kept his love under wraps. She never saw him as anything more than a buddy. For her there was no chemistry between them but last night she asked if he wanted to be her date? She wondered out loud that maybe they were like old married couples and maybe she had been a fool not to see what they had.
He smiled and agreed, maybe they did have something. He gave a restrained smile. He wasn't going to lay it all out in the open. Not yet. He had his dignity and he was, after all, not a twenty year old.
But his heart was very much that of a twenty year old's. He hated himself for the eagerness he felt in his heart as he waited for her. His drink finished and he ordered another. Time was ticking by where was she?
At the table the lady in the black top and trousers played with the cutlery set next to her plate. Where was he? Was he going to make it? She looked at the door and then at her watch. She was a fool to believe him. Her eyes wondered around and she saw people laughing, drinking and eating. Feelings of loneliness washed over her and despondency came over. The tiny voice that insisted her he wasn't coming grew louder. He had stood her up, again.
He ordered another drink. It was his third whiskey sour. His stomach grumbled with hunger and he ate a few peanuts. His eyes wandered around the room and he saw the lady in the black top also sitting alone. It was close to an hour since she had walked in. Maybe they both had been stood up.
Their eyes met and they looked away. Indians didn't acknowledge strangers. Where was she? Had she changed her mind? A sense of forbidding came over him; maybe she had gone back to her last boyfriend. The devil in him twisted the knife deeper. Maybe she was in his apartment, lying in his bed, loving him, whispering sweet nothings in his ears, maybe she had forgotten all about the friend she had stood up. He gulped down his drink and ordered his fourth whiskey sour.
She drummed her fingers on the table and then looked at the alcohol menu and ordered whiskey on the rocks. He was late but he had always been late. She wasn't going to lose her temper. The guy at the bar also seemed alone. At least she wasn't the only one waiting for someone in the pub. He was a nice enough fellow. Easy on the eyes, actually. Her mind reverted back to her husband of ten years who couldn't keep his pants up when it came to pretty women. She wondered why she was a glutton for punishment. She was a fool.
Her drink came and in anger she gulped it down. Gritted her teeth when it hit her gut hard and asked the waiter for another. She crossed her arms and sat back against the chair and began to brood. The waiter returned with her drink . He whispered that the gentleman on the other table sent her a drink. She looked to her right and saw two twenty-somethings smile at her. They looked decent enough. One of them raised his glass at her. He was more than easy on the eyes. He was hot! He was a Shahrukh Khan look alike. She raised her glass and took a sip. He came over to the table.
Sitting on the hard stool he wondered whether on his fourth or fifth drink? He wasn't sure but one thing he was sure about- he had been officially stood up by the woman he had waited for what seemed to be most of his wasted life! But he looked at the door hopefully. It opened and a couple walked in. Disappointment punched his gut. He cursed himself and ordered his fifth; yes, it was his fifth.
The bartender raised her eyebrows. He glared at her. She smiled at him. They started talking. He was tipsy and his mind became hazy. He couldn't remember her face anymore. He concentrated his swaying senses on the bartender. She made him laugh. He ordered another, she told him to go easy on the drinks and he replied only if she would go easy on him. She showed him her pearly whites and he felt a balm on his soul.
The lady in black smiled when the good looking twenty something asked if she wanted to go to the nearby nightclub with him. She didn't let herself think about the risks and agreed. She wasn't a wet blanket; she too could have fun. She finished her third drink, got to her feet and swayed a bit. He grabbed her elbow to steady her and before he helped her out of the restaurant he nodded at his friend who raised his glass to him- Jackpot! He had a date.
The bartender gave him his sixth whiskey sour and lightly said if he would stop drinking she would take him up to her apartment for coffee; her shift was over. He smiled, pushed his drink to the side, inclined his head at her and gave her a devilish smile. She blinked. She wanted him. She gestured towards the door and they went out of the restaurant towards the stairs. Her apartment was on the first floor.
Something was wrong. She felt her world whirl around her, the nightclub would have to wait. Drinking on an empty stomach was never good. She bent over and threw up right on the porch of the restaurant and her black trousers got splattered. Humiliation, embarrassment and stomach ache made her groan out load.
As he was walking out with the bartender, he saw the lady in black throw up a few yards away from him. The lady in black was drunk. The bartender went up to the lady and asked if she wanted a taxi. She declined and asked her young companion to take her home. Her companion looked uncomfortable but felt he couldn't leave a drunk woman to fend for herself and agreed to drop her home. Taxis weren't safe.
The bartender returned and put her arm through his and took him to her rooms.
She, on the other hand, was carefully bundled into a Scorpio and she mumbled her address. Later, she didn't resist the helping hand towards her door and then her room.
Morning came in it's sunny glory. They both blinked and groaned. He was in the unfamiliar apartment and she was in her own bedroom. Memories of the sex escapades spilled forth.But hangover warded off the shock.
She stumbled into her bathroom and looked for the Ipill kept behind the mirror. She wondered if that kid had used a condom.
He sat up and grabbed his head. This was his first one night stand in his thirty five years of life . Did he use a condom? he wondered. He didn't carry one; he wasn't expecting to get lucky. The woman on the bed snored loudly and he stifled the next groan.
Her cell phone rang.
His cell phone rang.
They both groaned as their partners continued to slumber peacefully.
She wrapped herself in a robe and gingerly walked into the living room, side stepping the clothes left strewn around. Her black bra lying on the floor made her cringe and she closed a tight fist against the little butterfly encrusted Ipill.
He grabbed his trousers lying next to the cheap bedpost and pulled the cellphone out.
They answered their phones in a whisper
His deep baritone in her ear made her close her eyes in pain. She tried to remind herself that he had hurt her all over again. She promised herself that she'd be strong for once and not given in.
"Sweetheart! There was a big jam on Brigade Road and the Airtel lines were jammed. I couldn't get through. I was so worried. Have I blown my chances with you? Sweet heart I am so sorry. I love you. I don't want to lose you. Can I come over? Please honey. Give me a chance? Give our marriage a chance? "
He went on pleading .
She stared at the Ipill in her palm and replied "No, I'll come over at lunch time. We'll talk then" She closed her cellphone and went into the kitchen to have her pill with water.
He remained quiet as his friend of five years gave him an explanation.
"Babes! I made up with him. We are fine now. I tried to call you but the lines were jammed. I know you will be happy for me......"
She went on speaking but he stopped paying attention to the flighty chatter. His eyes were on the bare chested woman who lay on her back and smiled up at him. He smiled back at her. His twenty year old heart did a little skip. Being with her seemed right.
She held her arms open and as he lay down with her he whispered "Happy Valentine 's Day."
Fiction: Twists Of Love
- » Published on February 09, 2009
- » Type: Opinion
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Author: Deepti Lamba
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