#21Days

Day 16

4.30 am

I glance at the alarm clock and finally decide to get up. I haven't had much sleep throughout the night. The initial euphoria of reconciliation has given way to doubt which is currently bordering on panic. Did I rush into it? Was it too early for us? After all, it's barely been a month since I was served. I get up, tiptoeing, gently open the cupboard to fish the divorce papers out. I make my way into the living room to read them, for the first time since they were handed to me.

Twenty minutes later, I'm having a splitting headache. The petition clearly states that Rohit and I want to divorce by mutual consent because we have irreconcilable differences. I put the papers on the coffee table and make my way into the kitchen. I place a pot of water and another pot of milk on the stove and absently stare at the wall in front of me. Nothing makes sense anymore. I want to know what Rohit's thinking. I want him to reassure me. My headspace seems all jumbled. 

The milk boils over, and I curse. It has seeped through to the kitchen counter. I'll now have to move everything off the counter to clean the spill. I start by moving the small jars that hold tea and coffee, next I move the spoon holder, then I move my cup that has a scooped spoon of coffee in it. Finally, I move my stove. And begin scrubbing the stains off my countertop. As I scrub each stain off, my mind finds its much-needed peace. I take my rag cloth, rinse it in water and come back for a second round. Then a third. Finally when I'm satisfied I begin moving things back. When the kitchen is set, I pour hot water and milk into my coffee mug and make my way to the couch. My body and mind are both exhausted. I place my steaming hot mug of coffee on the table in front of me, curl up on the couch, and fall asleep.

*****

9.45 am

I wake up with a start. I know I had a dream. But I can't seem to recollect what was it that I dreamt about. I turn around to realize that I've fallen asleep on the couch. I glance up to look at the wall clock. It's nearly 10 am. Rohit would have already left for work. Suddenly I recollect the events from the morning. I hastily sit up. The divorce papers along with the mug of cold coffee are still lying where I left them, on the coffee table. I close my eyes and curse. I can feel nervousness begin to take root in the pit of my stomach. Rohit would've definitely seen these. I don't know what he's made of it.

I pick up my phone to dial his number and then place it back. I don't know what to say. I feel foolish. Just yesterday we managed to insert some semblance of peace into this turbulent relationship and within a day, I've managed to mess it up all over again. I close my eyes in frustration, angrier at myself than I've ever been. How could I have been so careless, again? I get up agitated and glance at the divorce papers again. On impulse, I pick them up ready to shred them to pieces. But then I put them back down. They are legal documents. I shouldn't do things in haste that would cause any further problems.

I pick up a dust cloth instead; the coffee lay forgotten, along with my appetite for food. I begin cleaning the house with a vengeance, sweeping, mopping, moving the furniture around, getting to the corners hiding behind the cabinets, taking all the food out of the fridge, and cleaning it completely, cleaning the insides of the microwave, scrubbing the bathroom with a hand brush. I'm sweating and exhausted, but I'm still angry, at myself. I come back to the couch, pick up my coffee mug, and drain its contents into the sink. I place the mug in the sink, open the tap and let it run. I cup my hand under the flowing water and splash some onto my face. Then again. And again. I turn the tap off, walk back to the couch, and sit down. I pick up the divorce notice once again, and absently flit through the pages. Then I place it back on the coffee table. My body is losing its battle with exhaustion. I curl up once again on the couch and fall asleep.

*****

4.20 pm

My eyes open to witness an orangish hue that's filled my living room. I'm barely able to sit up. I'm still feeling tired and exhausted. I guess it's more emotional than physical. I close my eyes once more. In a small part of my brain I'm hoping all of this is a really bad dream, and that when I eventually do wake up, I'll find myself nestled in Rohit's arms. There's another part of me that knows this is just wishful thinking. That I've blown my only chance at happiness and redemption and no matter what I do, nothing is ever going to be the same again.

I fantasize about happy moments with Rohit, love, and laughter, and kids, one boy, and another girl. Rohit would make a great Dad - the type that makes kids go My Daddy Strongest. I'm half asleep and I smile. Life could have been beautiful. Only if.