Circle of Trust

Chapter 3

A/N: I'm sorry for the short update. I am reworking the second half of the chapter as the next chapter since it would be in Varun's point of view. Please vote and comment. I love to hear your thoughts <3

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The house fell eerily quiet after Ria left for school. MiL settled down in the garden chair near the potted plants outside. She sipped her coffee and sat staring at the Gulmohar tree in the neighbor’s backyard. Varun hadn’t come back from the morning run; it was an hour later than his usual time. He had even missed seeing his daughter off to school.

Naina sank into the couch in the living room nursing a steaming cup of coffee between her hands. Her eyes flickered between the wall clock and the front door every few minutes. Around her, both the maids noiselessly went about their morning duties with practiced precision, doing whatever was necessary to keep the home sparkling clean. Varun liked it that way; she didn’t mind a little clutter. Infact she didn’t mind much about anything.

She and her brother had not known a home of their own. The orphanage they spent the most time in growing up, did not give them the luxury of having likes and dislikes or opinions. They either obeyed or got spanked. Running away was never an option. She understood what it was to be alone, hugging her own shadow for comfort. Her eyes sought her MiL sitting solemnly a few feet away. She understood her, despite belonging to opposite spectrums of society. Fate could be a merciless equalizer in life.

Naina was in two minds to join her mother in law. They would probably end up counting the orange flowers on the tree if she did.  Both mother and son could stoically refuse to speak a word if they didn’t want to, and right now, she suspected that was true for her husband as well. Coming back late from the morning walk with just enough time to rush upstairs, shower, and leave for work was a classic excuse - see, no time for talk. Go take a walk!

A moment later, Varun strolled in and picked up the newspaper from the carved wooden tripod at the entrance. The yellow singlet he wore for the run stuck to his torso. Sweat glistened on his skin, drops rolled off his face, down his neck and disappeared inside the cut offs.

He seemed unaware of Naina watching him over her cuppa. She lightly blew over the steam rising off the cup, and waited patiently for her husband to laugh or frown at something in the newspaper and excitedly call out to her to share the news. It usually was something outrageously ridiculous and they would laugh at it for few minutes.

The coffee turned cold as she watched her husband slowly make his way up the stairs to their bedroom without a single glance at her. Lowering her eyes to the bandage that circled her finger, she made a quick decision. She downed the tasteless coffee in one large gulp, placed the cup on the tray, and took the stairs two at a time.

Last night, she hadn’t stayed away from him because of her MiL; one innocent question from him about the cut in her finger had jolted her back to the photo of her husband standing securely in the circle of his first love, as if that were the only place he belonged. When he had tried to wrap his arms around Naina, she had stiffened, muttered an inaudible excuse, and ran out the room.

No wonder she was at the receiving end of his icy treatment since morning. She reminded herself for the umpteenth time to let the past remain in the past. How could she forget that he had, when he had every reason not to? Naina rushed into their room and came to an abrupt halt. What was her plan? Apologize, explain, or drop her clothes and let chemistry take its course?

She stood rooted to the spot, debating over the merits of each choice. Varun stepped out the bathroom rubbing his hair vigorously with his white towel. He stopped short in front of her, raised both his thick brows, let his eyes caress her features before he neatly sidestepped her on his way to the full length mirror in the far side of the room.

“Raj,” she stuttered and cleared her throat. “Raj,” she said, in a firmer tone.

But her Raj was being his adamant, sulking, spoilt, jerkish self as he pulled on his underwear. Naina, trying her best to keep her eyes on her husband’s handsome face, gathered her guts to apologize. It was way past the time for plan C for drop-the-clothes, so she stuck to plan A.

“I’m sorry…for yesterday night.”

Varun paused in the process of pulling on his trousers, but didn’t look at her. After a moment in which, it looked like he would respond, he simply returned to the task of getting dressed. If it were not for his unsteady hands, she would have thought him unaffected by her sincere apology.

Finding hope in that little unintentional giveaway, Naina grabbed the denim cologne out of his reach.

“I said sorry, Raj. I really am.”

He looked at her blankly, hands on his hips. Without uttering a word, he held out his hand. Naina smiled. She moved to place her hand in his, when he jerked away, pulling his hand back so swiftly, her hand fell back down to her side in a limp.

“Cologne,” he said, reaching his hand out again.

“Raj, please. Don’t do this,” she pleaded, moisture gathering in her eyes.

Varun blew out his breath and scratched his forehead. “I don’t have time for this, Naina.”

“What did I…”

“Give me the damn bottle, Naina. I have work to do,” he said raising his voice a notch higher than usual, and Naina shrunk back from him.

“Use the other one,” she said, childishly.

“I want this one,” he said reaching for the cologne.

“You don’t even like this one, Raj.” She jerked her hand out of his reach and moved away.

“But, you do!” He snapped.

Naina’s lips started curving up. She found comfort in the thought that his obsession with the denim had something to do with her.

Varun muttered a curse…a filthy one and turned to leave the room, when she grabbed his arm.

“Here,” she said, placing the cologne in his hand and smiled up at him.

“Is this your way of saying sorry? Ignore me for months, play the victim, shift the blame, and now act as if you’re the one giving in.”

Naina was taken aback at his sudden outburst. Her smile faltered.

“What’s this about?” she whispered, hoping against hope he was pulling a fast one.

“Never mind.”

 "But,”

He was out the door before she could get one more word in. Naina dropped her hand to swing by her side. Did men experience menopause? Should she be worried? Not about the menopause but the way Varun took off on her without reason. She made a mental note to check on the net or ask Tej – her agent, editor and her best friend. No, not about Varun’s behavior but about the menopause thing – though, Tej could write a thesis on both.

Naina was determined not to let Varun’s hurtful words affect her. As she made her way downstairs, she heard the front door close. She sighed. About to head out to the back to check on her MiL, she saw Tej enter the living room with a deep crease on her forehead.

“What’s the matter with your boy? Early menopause?” asked Tej, flicking her head back towards the entrance.

Naina burst out laughing and hugged her friend. “You can say that again.”