Page 91 of Made in Mumbai

She hook her head.

“Did…” he stopped, his blood boiling. “Did he hit you?”

She swallowed. His bold, beautiful, fighter of a woman swallowed in silence.

“M?” He called out softly.

“Only twice, and I did not stay after that. I filed for divorce.”

“Twice is not only, it’s two times too much. M…” his face crumpled. “You were the girl who beat up a man that whistled when you passed. How…?”

She shook her head, lowering herself on the sofa. Her head bent. “When somebody you know… you trust, does something like this… the first time I was so shocked I couldn’t even realise for a long time what he had done. The second time, I just didn’t want to prolong it.”

“Did you file a complaint?”

She shook her head.

“Why?”

“He threatened to stall the divorce… and make my life hell. My parents didn’t like that I was doing this. I had nobody to back me up in case he became hostile. So I agreed to not file anything against him. In return, he quietly let me go.”

“Your parents know this?”

She nodded.

“And they think you should get back with him?”

She nodded.

“B**…” he started, then stopped, glancing at her. “Did he abuse?”

She nodded. Gautam’s eyes squeezed shut.

“How long were you with him?”

“Eight months. This started happening, and he was already gaslighting me, putting me down for being too loud, too extrovert, too talkative. I understood all this, I even knew it was abusive, verbally and mentally. But I just…”

“You just what Maya?”

“I don’t know? I thought it was the adult thing to do, to try to pull it through. I know it is not. Now I do. But at that time… I didn’t have any perspective except I was alone and confused, not even working… just being at home, attending Rotaract events and club parties in the evening. Sometimes even those weren’t there and I was talking to the walls, waiting for something to happen, something good to happen,” she laughed at herself, shaking her head. Then her eyes met his — “I am not proud of those months, but I came out of that.”

His eyes misted. How could he be so proud of one person over and over again? How could he want to adore one person and worship at their feet in the same breath?

“Can I sit next to you?” He asked. She smiled, as if realising belatedly that he was keeping his distance for her. Maya nodded, slowly extending her hand to him. It was crazy how she was the one with an open hand and he took it, walking down and sitting beside her.

“You did,” he squeezed her hand tight and rubbed the back of it. “You did get out of it, M.”

Her head fell onto his shoulder and he tipped his chin, letting his body adjust to become whatever she wanted, making grooves in his flesh for hers as she wrapped her arms around his middle and settled into him. Gautam reclined back, taking her with him, lying silently there with her. And then, suddenly, she began to cry. Soft, muted tears, from her eyes into his kurta, soaking his skin. His own eye leaked.

“Oye, M?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

17. Tum Paas Aa Rahe Ho

Gautam lay her sleeping form down on the sofa, got a few pillows and shawl to make her comfortable, then retreated to his bedroom. The first thing he did was wake up his lawyer. He didn’t stop to think if what he was demanding was right or wrong. He just made those demands.

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