Page 40 of Made in Mumbai

“Hmmm?” She answered Leo.

“Where are you?” His voice echoed through her receiver and bounced off the bathroom walls.

“I’m coming, why, what happened?”

“A Hem Sanghvi is here for you. Says he is your ex-husband and you invited him.”

Maya closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened them, Gautam was just behind her, his eyes drilling holes into her. She nodded — “Ask him to wait in the sitting area, I am coming.”

She didn’t wait, or she would lose her streak. Today was all about momentum, full steam forward. So Maya ran her fingers down her cheeks, pinched her eyes out and left the bathroom. And as she had expected, the sitting area was a zoo. The spectators — her colleagues, the animal — her ex-husband.

He looked the same. After all, how could one month do anything good to a bull like him. Ok, he didn’t look like a bull. She wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if he did. He looked…ok. In that Gujarati way. But he had a snobbish swagger around him, making his lean body look extra bulky in padded suit coats and artfully tousled hair which she knew he had spent a good 20 minutes on to create volume in thinning strands. His father had early male baldness, and he had nightmares about it now. She had stumbled upon his search history for hair transplants too.

“Hey,” he pushed to his feet as soon as she cleaved through her co-workers.

She smiled — “Hi.”

His arms opened for her, padded black suit and all, and she embraced him. His arms tightened, his mouth coming to peck her shoulder, hands rubbing her back longer than was decent for an estranged couple.

“A little tight, babe. We are amicably separated,” he kissed her ear. She tightened her arms around him. He pulled back and gave her that charming smile, all teeth. “Won’t you introduce?” He eyed the herd behind her.

“Of course,” Maya turned, smiling big as she waved a hand from his top to toe — “Team, ex-husband. Ex-husband — team.”

They all waved shamelessly. Riya and Rustom were the only ones who had the decency to keep their hands at chest level out of some shame. And Gautam, right at the back, looked as dispassionate as ever. To his credit, Hem blinded her colleagues with his all-teeth smile.

“Ok, drama’s over,” Maya dispersed them, waving a hand between her and Hem. “We are not going to taser each other. Amicably uncoupled, friends, happily divorced. Ok, bye.”

She took Hem’s hand and pulled him out of the office. He laughed, and she kept pulling until they had exited the villa premises and walked into the Starbucks where she had not been blessed by coffee gods this morning. They sat under an outdoor umbrella.

“What is it? You send me an SOS message and are not even there to receive me when I come into your office…?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Hmm,” Hem sat back, ankle on knee. Typical. “Mine?”

“Yes.”

“I told you earlier also, this is not for me. I do not want kids.”

“I know.”

“Then? What? You have enough money to get rid of it…”

“You know what? Die. Why did I even tell you?!” She began to get up when he grabbed her hand — “Ok, why did you tell me?”

“I don’t know… you are the father, I thought you would want to know.”

“Why though?” He snorted. “Nothing has changed in the last month. Still don’t want them.”

“So if I don’t have it…”

“Don’t have it!” He ordered. “What are you even thinking?”

“You know what? You don’t get to know that.”

“If this is one those games of yours, Maya…”

“You don’t care either way, so…”

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