Cheaters ✓

Relationship

21 October 2020

I move must say that was the first awkward moment between us. Not the I-don't-know-what-to-say kind of awkwardness, but the l-hope-whatever-I-say-isn't-misconstrued kind of awkwardness. We didn't stay in the hotel room for long after I told him I wasn't in this for sex.

He left first. And then I did. Since the room was booked under my name, I had to check out after settling the bill. Even our goodbyes were different. I was a little sceptical to initiate a conversation but was ready to hold one if a word came from him. But the only word that came from him was 'bye'. After that, only introspection could happen, not conversation.

The incident affected me so much that I couldn't stop thinking about it even during work hours. I thought I'd offended him with the last thing I said. But was I wrong? One has to tread carefully when it comes to honesty, and it's not about what you say, but how the other person takes it. I made a mental note to not be totally honest with him in the future. That's how we begin to customize ourselves with every incident, I guess, in a relationship. Were Yoongi and I in a relationship?

I kept waiting to hear my phone buzz, indicating a message or a call from him. I had customized the message alert tone and ringtone for his number, so even without looking at the phone, I would know if it was him. I didn't want to miss even a single call or message from him. I had given him that much importance in my life.

But as more time passed without a call or message from him, the more dejected I felt. Maybe I wasn't that important in his life yet. I'd told him what was on my mind.

I wasn't in it for sex. I wouldn't have waited for serendipity to work its magic if that was the case. I wouldn't have waited to meet a man on a flight and then connected with him over coffee if my intention was just to get him to a hotel room. For that there were enough dating apps. In fact, for that I had Jimin. I was confident that I could negotiate a no-strings-attached arrangement with him any time. But that was not on my agenda.

Somewhere in my mind I wanted to be with an extension of Jungkook. I didn't need a substitute for him. The things I couldn't talk to him about, for whatever reason, I wanted someone to hear them. The emotional excitement I didn't feel when I was with him, I wanted to feel it with someone else.

Things I knew about myself but wasn't comfortable sharing with Jungkook, I wanted to share with someone else. I know it sounded weird. Why would I feel uncomfortable sharing something with my own husband, with whom I'd been for so many years? I think the answer was in the question.

The way I was used to him being a certain way, I was sure he too was used to me being a certain way. And if I did something to disturb that certain image, it might be more damaging than healing to our relationship

What I probably didn't take into account was that sex was an inevitable by-product of every relationship, Before sleeping that night, I sent Yoongi 'good night' message. Then I lay awake, waiting for a reply. And when it didn't come, I opened the chat window to see if he came online even for a second. He didn't. He messaged me the next day when I was in office, in the middle of an important client meeting.

'He beat me. I'm bruised. Won't be able to meet for a few days,'

That's what his message said. For a moment, I was enraged. How could a man his partner? Jungkook and I too had had fights. Bad fights. Ugly fights. Fights after which we didn't talk for days. But we never, even when we were furious, allowed ourselves to think that we could use physical violence to settle old scores; or convinced ourselves that our anger or our marriage gave us the right to hit the other. Maybe I didn't know a world where such things were allowed ... or should I say were deemed acceptable, so I didn't understand it. What I did understand was an abhorrent social truth: what wasn't allowed might not necessarily be unacceptable.

I had read the message during the meeting itself, but I didn't reply immediately. It wasn't because my ego was bruised by such a late response. I just didn't know if I should respond with an obvious message like: how dare he? Or should I just say something like: what happened? Instead, after a number of attempts, I finally wrote: I'll wait to meet you or for your call.

With that response, I myself chose a position in his life. I was neither a somebody nor a nobody.

His call didn't come instantly. When it did, he only had three words to say: Let's meet today? It was a question but I took it as a command.

Call it being romantic or someone's emotional cushion or simply guilt, this time when I met him I gave him a bouquet of gerberas. I will never forget the smile he flashed me after receiving the flowers. As if he was not expecting them but was happy I had brought them. He hugged me. This hug had a lot of warmth in it. I revelled in it till it lasted.

We were meeting for lunch. He wanted to have Indian food and I simply went by his wish. The way he kept glancing at the gerberas, I knew they made him feel special.

'Why do we gift flowers knowing they'll die?' he asked.

'Maybe it's not the flowers. The gift is the fragrance. For it's the fragrance we remember, and every time we come across it, wherever we may be, it reminds us of that special someone who had introduced us to it,' I tried to philosophize the answer as much as I could. But it was true nonetheless.

'Couldn't agree more,' he said. Our conversation was cut short when the food arrived. He took a bite and continued, 'Similarly, when we gift ourselves to our partner, we too die for them.'

I was about to dig into my meal when I stopped and looked at him.

'They live with the "fragrance", which is what we are to them. And because they are so sure about who they think we are, they stop discovering us,' he said, taking a sip of the drink.

'Which leads to our death?' I said, understanding it was metaphorical. What he meant was we stop existing for our partners the moment they have us. Interesting, I thought.

'You didn't ask me about the abuse.'

'I thought it was a personal matter. How are you, Yoongi?' I asked.

'If it was then I wouldn't have mentioned it.' He had a point. I suddenly felt guilty.

'Physically healed. But emotionally ... tell me, Taehyung, how does one heal emotionally?'

I thought for a second before I said,

'Maybe with time?' He nodded and said, 'With time we only get used to the injuries. But that doesn't mean they have healed.'

'Then?' I realized he'd asked me a question, and I had replied with one of my own.

'It heals when we don't give it much importance. Distraction is a good option.'

'But how do you distract yourself?'

He didn't answer but quietly ate his lunch. I understood he needed some space. It was clear all this wisdom was coming from him thinking about his relationship with his husband. And I was still not sure how much I should probe. I let silence be our language. He finally spoke when I was paying the bill.

'Why do you think we have been meeting, Taehyung?' he asked.

'Distraction,' I answered in my mind, but I wasn't sure if I should say that aloud.

'Your hesitation was an answer,' he said.

It was time for me to head to office. While we were going down in the elevator, he asked me: 'They say sex is the first phase of a relationship. After which phase two begins. Are you ready for our phase two?' He sounded like he knew what phase two had in store.

I didn't. I was happy with the fact that he had kind of accepted what I was pondering upon. That we were in a relationship.

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Please avoid my typos if you see any. I'm literally on the verge of passing out.