Secrets And Lies [Completed]

12. visiting an old flame

Song of the chapter is Miserable Man by David Kushner

-12-
-Saina Bahl-
-Present-

________________

St. Davis Street
12 November, 2030
7:30 am

As my cab took a right at the intersection, I leaned my head against the window and let the fresh morning air softly cradle my hair.

I had forgotten how much I missed the slow mornings in this little town.

Two or three vendors were on the streets, getting ready for the new day that had already begun. Beachcombers, geared up in their boho attires, walked in pairs to get to the beaches nearby. Tourists were returning from the beach, probably after catching the sunrise.

The slow humdrum of my surroundings gave me the time to clear my headspace after what I had endured three hours back.

When I had told Gautam about my decision to attend the reunion, it wouldn't be wrong to say that he wasn't absolutely ecstatic. He was pissed, to say the least. Even after a number of times of reassuring him that I would just be gone for one weekend and that I would be back to take care of all the events that was scheduled for the following week, he hadn't budged. He had straight up told me not to go.

But since there was still four days left for my already booked flight, I kept convincing myself that I would be able to manage his tantrums.

But that had proven futile. When he had seen me packing this morning, his temper had reached a new zenith. He had started accusing me of never listening to him, even though all I had done for the past three years was listen to him. He had accused me of being selfish and only caring about myself, when all I had done for the past three years was be at his beck and call. He had accused me of being difficult, irresponsible and what not.

But this time, I hadn't stayed quiet like the other four hundred times in the past.

This time I had spoken up. For myself.

I had told him , very politely and calmly, that I was going to go on this vacation and that I just needed a break.

And the result of that had been the purple bruise mark on my hand.

I pulled the hem of my turtle neck around my arm to cover it, mentally making a note of buying ointment once I was done with unpacking.

A simple act of defiance had caused me a bruise and twenty missed calls from my husband. I had switched off my phone once I had boarded the flight. And I intended to keep it off for the next two days.