Forget-Me-Not: Taste of Freedom

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

      That night, as Geet put her children to bed, her gaze went to the clock on the wall, and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. Gautam wasn't home yet... it was already past ten. He wasn't usually this late, but since the last few weeks... ever since his trip to Delhi, he'd been... aloof. Distant. They'd barely seen each other. They barely got the time to talk to each other. Whenever he was home, he was either with the kids or with her mother-in-law. She'd tried to overlook it, thinking it was his work that was perhaps bothering him, and he needed to calm down. She told herself that their children gave him what he needed—love and calm and hope. That once he overcame whatever trouble he was going through, he'd come back to her.

      But there was no use deluding herself anymore. The problem was her. There was something she'd done to push him away... but she couldn't guess what. As the frustration from the past few days broke through her calm, she sighed and sank down on the bed beside Rohan. His eyes were closed... he was breathing deeply, oblivious to the world in his sleep. She passed her fingers through his soft, silky hair and got up. It won't do, she told herself, suppressing her weakness. There were things she had to do—heat up the food when Gautam would return. Make the bed. Think about... tomorrow. Maybe a hopeful tomorrow, where she wouldn't be so puzzled or clueless.

      The bell rang at half past twelve, rousing her from her sleep. She'd dozed on the couch, she realized, with her book fallen to the ground. She'd been waiting for him. The house was quiet... everyone else had gone to sleep. Mrs. Kapoor had come out once to ask her if Gautam had returned. When she'd said he hadn't, her lips had pressed into a thin line and she'd regarded her with unconcealed dislike. Geet had ignored the pointed look, turning her attention to the book she'd been pretending to read. There was no need to pretend anymore. He was back, and there were things she needed to ask him. As she answered the door, she felt a mixture of anger and hurt and longing. Gautam stood on the other side, looking haggard.

       "Where were you?" she asked, a question she had never asked him in the last seven years. She couldn't believe he'd reduced her to demanding his whereabouts.

       "At the office. Where else would I be?" he returned, his voice slightly annoyed.

      "You're awfully late. I was worried."

      "I'm not a child, Geet. I know my way back home."

      She didn't say anything, moving away to allow him in. There was nothing she could say to that, nothing she could hurl back at him to hurt him. It was not how she liked to do things. But she doubted she'd have much control for long.

      "Did you have dinner?" she asked as he settled down on the couch, taking off his shoes.

      Gautam didn't look up. "Yes; I ate with a colleague."

      "You could have informed me," she couldn't help herself then. "You could have let me know. I stayed up, like a fool, waiting for you to be back. Thinking that you'd be tired, that you'd need..." that you'd need me. How wrong she had been. God, how utterly foolish.

      He looked up then, his hard eyes making her flinch.

      "I had a long, busy day. I didn't have the time to call."

      When he'd first started pulling back from her, Geet had assumed that it was his work that somehow made him less attentive. Now it seemed like she'd been wrong all along. Work had never been the problem... in fact, he'd used work as an excuse to stay away... but stay away from what? What was it that made him want to escape so badly? Was it her? Had she done something to anger him, to hurt him?