\u201cI loved you very much that day,\u201d he said.
\nI touched the picture.
\n\u201cI ruined that love.\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cYou wounded it. I buried it alive. We both must answer for what we did.\u201d
\nI looked at him.
\n\u201cIs it still there?\u201d
\nHe did not answer immediately.
\nThen he reached for my hand without asking.
\n\u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cOld. Scarred. Badly behaved. But there.\u201d
\nA year after the retirement checkup, we went back to the same clinic.
\nThe young doctor smiled when he saw us enter together. This time, Arvind\u2019s fingers were wrapped around mine.
\nHis reports were not perfect.
\nThey would never be perfect.
\nBut they were better.
\nMedication had steadied him. Treatment had given him time. Not endless time. No one gets that. But real time. Honest time.
\nOutside the clinic, rain began to fall over Andheri.
\nThe same kind of rain that had once covered my worst mistake.
\nArvind opened his umbrella.
\nFor a second, we both remembered another monsoon, another version of me, another version of us.
\nI whispered, \u201cIf you could go back, would you leave me?\u201d
\nHe looked at the rain for a long time.
\nThen he said, \u201cIf I could go back, I would tell you I was lonely too.\u201d
\nMy throat closed.
\n\u201cI would have listened.\u201d
\n\u201cMaybe,\u201d he said. \u201cMaybe not. We were young and proud and very stupid.\u201d
\nI laughed through tears.
\nHe smiled.
\nThen, under the grey Mumbai sky, my husband lifted my hand to his lips.
\nThe kiss was light.
\nAlmost nothing.
\nBut after eighteen years of nothing, almost nothing was a universe.
\nPeople walked around us with umbrellas and bags and impatient horns blaring from the road.
\nNo one noticed.
\nNo one knew.
\nThat was fine.
\nSome punishments happen privately.
\nSo do some resurrections.
\nThat night, when we returned home, Arvind took the old white pillow from the foot of the bed.
\nI watched him carry it to the balcony.
\n\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d I asked.
\nHe looked embarrassed. \u201cIt is only cotton.\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d I said softly. \u201cIt is eighteen years.\u201d
\nHe nodded.
\nTogether, we opened the cover.
\nThe cotton inside had yellowed with age. He pulled it apart slowly. I helped. Piece by piece, we placed it into a clay pot, the kind I used for tulsi.
\nThe next morning, we mixed it with soil.
\nPriya brought a small jasmine plant.
\nRohan laughed and said only our family would perform last rites for a pillow.
\nArvind smiled.
\nI did not explain.
\nWeeks later, the jasmine bloomed.
\nSmall white flowers.
\nFragrant.
\nSoft.
\nEvery evening, Arvind watered it carefully.
\nEvery evening, I stood beside him.
\nSometimes his shoulder touched mine.
\nSometimes his hand found mine without fear.
\nAnd every time it did, I forgave the past a little more\u2014not because it deserved forgiveness, but because we deserved whatever life remained after it.
\nI had betrayed my husband once.
\nFor eighteen years, I thought he punished me by not touching me.
\nBut the truth was more terrible, and more tender.
\nHe had built a wall to save my life, then got trapped behind it with his own breaking heart.
\nNow, old and scarred, we were learning to live without walls.
\nAnd on nights when Mumbai rain tapped against our window, Arvind no longer slept with his back to me.
\nHe slept facing me.
\nOne hand resting between us.
\nOpen.
\nWaiting.
\nAnd every night, I took it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cI loved you very much that day,\u201d he said. I touched the picture. \u201cI ruined that love.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cYou wounded it. I buried it alive. We both … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18],"class_list":["post-1802","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-story","tag-aita","tag-diamond-ring","tag-diamonds","tag-engagement","tag-engagement-ring","tag-fiance","tag-fiancee","tag-lab-grown-diamonds","tag-photo","tag-picture","tag-reddit","tag-relationships","tag-top","tag-wedding"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1802"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1803,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802\/revisions\/1803"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1802"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1802"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1802"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}