The Last Love Letter

Chapter 45

Subah thought about the only man she had ever loved. That man had touched her body many times but never her soul.

At that time, she hadn’t known what love really meant, and after he had ditched her, she had rejected the whole idea of love between man and woman altogether. And seeing her father ill-treat her mother all these years kept her wounds fresh.

But it was different now. All her ideas and beliefs had been altered by the man seated opposite her at the diner. She recalled the way he had held her during the night and thought: The best surprise is when someone you think will speak to you conveys the message not through words but by touching you.

In the last three days, their need to communicate through words had lessened. Now she knew why people who cared for each other communicated better by holding hands and finding answers in each other’s eyes.

But were they friends or lovers? And what was the difference between the two?

Friendship is the marriage of two minds, whereas love is the marriage of two souls.

The thought left her wondering how accurate this streak of imagination was. Perhaps this thought was perfect for a painting too. The tragedy was that, in her life, she had experienced neither friendship nor love. Now at least she knew what friendship was.

‘Akash, you will be my friend for the rest of my life, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will.’

Subah had the elusive feeling that Akash was attracted to her. She could see it in the way he looked at her. But that was the limit of their relationship, and even though she wanted to be held in his arms—not as a broken person but as someone in love—she knew it wasn’t possible.

It started to rain, and she looked outside, her mood lifting. ‘Akash, would you like to get wet in the rain?’

‘No, I’ve just had a bath.’

‘A good bath can make you feel alive, but if you really want to talk to your body, try dancing in the rain.’ She saw him hesitate. ‘Come on!’

She put her beer bottle down and was out the door before he could react. Subah was drenched within seconds, and she looked at Akash from outside, making faces, teasing him. The rain felt good on her skin. When Akash came outside too, she was surprised and ran towards him. It had been her shooting-star-make-a-wish moment, and it had worked.

He extended his hands, and she took them gleefully, wondering what he was up to. There was a song playing nearby, and they did a little impromptu dance. Their steps didn’t match, but their moods were in sync, so it didn’t matter. The song was over in just a minute, and Subah cursed it for being so short. Akash shook his head, playfully directing the droplets in her direction. She jumped in the puddle around her feet to pay back the prank and laughed as he stepped away.

Five minutes later, when they were settled on their seats again after a visit to the restroom to dry off, Subah wondered about her behaviour. She had behaved like a teenager, and yet there was no feeling of regret.

‘That was fun, Subah. Thanks! I love your spontaneity. This is life. Life is to be lived.’

Somewhere in the deepest part of her heart, she felt like Akash had changed in those five minutes. The way he looked at her made her conscious of how she looked. As she shifted to banish the thought, their legs touched under the table, and she felt something stir in her stomach.

‘Thanks.’ That was all she could say as the food was served.

Later, when they walked back to the hotel, she shivered. The temperature had dropped due to the rain, and when they were hit by a sudden gust of wind as they turned towards their hotel, she instinctively moved closer to him. She felt him take her hand, and she let him. For the final hundred metres, they walked holding hands. Anyone watching them would have thought of them as lovers.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ asked Akash when they reached the third floor.

‘I would love one. But can I join you in a few minutes?’

‘Sure.’

Subah unlocked her door and went inside.

What was happening?

Why was Akash changing the equation between the two of them?

This wasn’t right.

Not for him, not for her, not for little Sara.

And most of all, not for Nisha, with whom he was still in love.

Her first thought was to call him and say that she was tired. But something within her resisted. Part of her wanted to go back and spend more time with him. After a minute of internal dilly-dallying, that part won, and she found herself changing into a fresh dress.