1 month of marital bliss. Then loneliness, struggle and despair.
14 years passed…A knock on the front door.
“Disturbing neighbourhood kids…go away!”
Incessant knocking…She opened the door. Disbelief. Denial. Then tears of joy. She fainted!
A lost war-hero, her husband greeted her with a bouquet of red roses, on his return home on Valentine’s day.
“I hope she doesn’t find out”…
“No, she won’t…not until one of us tell her”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bear the brunt of this.”
“…Oops! I can hear footsteps..”
And wiping the evidence off their lips…the twins wait…for mom.
Ooh! The pleasure of free ice-cream after exhausting your legal weekend quota.
“You are fit only for a life in the slums, fighting for your daily bread. You don’t deserve someone as good as me”.
She left him silently.
Now: Businesswoman, philanthropist…
And a familiar face…a daily labourer waiting for work in the slums she was visiting.
Did her silent fury burn his haughtiness and life down?
“The pebbles in our backyard would taste much better than this meal of yours”
Crestfallen and completely shattered , she pondered.
Stuck by hunger pangs at work the next day, he longingly reached for his lunch case. He gazed at its contents…dumbfounded!
They contained what his wife felt would satisfy his palate…”pebbles from their backyard”.
He looked at her lips longingly. Wondering when they would stop. He didn’t want to rush it for the fear of losing it.
With patience as his only companion, he waited…only to be rewarded.
Vigorously licking from the half-eaten ice cream cup, his only meal for the day. It’s a Dog’s life!
He desired that curve of hers. Now, more than ever.
His entire life depended on it. Would she, wouldn’t she?
He could think of nothing else. A break at this point would only prolong the anxiety about his performance.
And voila! He spotted it. The deciding curve…of a dimple.
He had earned his Baking Diploma.
He snooped her phone & internet history without luck. Just when he was beginning to relax, came a harmless forwarded message.
He walked out on her with their son, assuming a non-existent “other” man.
Turning back the clock by 5 seconds …Would it have made a difference to the devious ways of a cancerous mind?
He had long ceased to exist. Just a memory now. A few seconds of courage, patience, her usual submissive self & 1 cup of strong filter coffee. Her misery ended. The post-mortem said Cardiac arrest. 3 drops of poison and 10 excruciating seconds of guilt earned her, her long cherished freedom…from the heartless wife abuser.
With trepidation she held the envelope. Quivering lips and shivering hands. Would it contain what she/they wanted to see? Just in time. The next 3 seconds held the answer to that question. The suspense was killing.
Atlast! A collective sigh of relief. Smiles everywhere.
On the table. The missive. “By invitation only-Salvatore Ferragamo preview sale!”
