The Accidental Wife (24 page)

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R
ihaan gently deposited his feather light charge on the balcony and watched as she hung onto the railing and look around, hungrily lapping up the sights and sounds of mundane city life. Seeing her like this filled him with a sense of relief and achievement.
I can breathe a bit easier now,
he thought. Yet, he couldn’t dispel the nagging irony of the situation. He had her, his wife, back where she belonged, in their home, by his side. Yet she failed to recognize him. He was still a perfect stranger to her.

“How does it feel?” he asked once several minutes had passed.

“It feels wonderful. Everything looks so…normal. Thank you, Rihaan,” she said, turning to him with such a beautiful and brave smile that his heart surrendered at once.

“Don’t thank me, darling. I’ve done nothing at all. Even if I had, no one deserves it more than you,” he said, pulling her enthusiastically into his arms.

But almost instantly he noticed her splinting her breath. Her color had turned ashen, though her smile still remained very much in place. He realized that the pressure from his embrace was aggravating a fresh wound on her back, the spot where a failed skin graft had just been revised.

He released her while cursing fervently under his breath. “Sorry Naina. I should’ve known better.”

“It’s all right.”

“No. It’s not. Don’t make excuses for me,” he said picking her up briskly and striding inside the apartment.

Her wheelchair had been abandoned at the hospital since she had graduated to crutches. But she was still learning to use them and he didn’t mind carrying her. She felt lighter than a grocery bag even though she appeared to have recovered most of her appetite.

Meanwhile, he continued to rail against himself.
How can I be so mindless when I’m supposed to be familiar with every detail of her condition? Besides, I’m her caretaker and her health is my first priority! This is inexcusable!

It was because he had taken leave of his senses. Seeing her in his apartment again had sent his emotions on a wild spin, rekindling all the bittersweet memories of the times they had spent together, in particular those final hours of incomprehensible bliss that he’d been so desperately trying to stonewall.

“Rihaan,” Naina said, “put me down please.”

“What?”

“I said, put me down. You don’t plan to carry me around all day, do you?” she asked with an amused smile.

“I could carry you around all my life, if I had to,” he retorted. But then relented and set her on the bed before squatting down on the floor in front of her.

“I don’t want to be a handicap,” she mumbled.

“A handicap? What are you trying to say?” he demanded sharply.

She looked down at her lap where her fingers twisted and untwisted the fabric of her cotton dress which hung like a curtain over her thin frame. “I’ve been thinking…for a while about various things. About what could have happened…” Her eyes restlessly panned the room. “…that no one wants to speak about. It must have been something really big to have put me in this state. And I must have surely brought it upon myself, my gut tells me so.”

She stared directly into his eyes. “Yet you’ve been so wonderful. Never expressed outrage or a word of complaint, always been cheerful no matter how tired and frustrated you probably felt. And you gave me my life back. But I wonder…” She paused, looking down again.

“Wonder about what, Naina?” His hands gripped the edge of the mattress. He loathed suspense other than in the movies.

“What if all your efforts come to no end. What if I don’t remember anything and what started as a blank page remains as one. What if
I
fail you?”

“
Fail me?
Stop this nonsense immediately, Naina!”
he thundered, springing to his feet. “Yes, I do want you to remember! I want you to remember everything! Your home, your family, and most of all me! And it will happen someday. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. In a month. A week. I don’t know. Regardless, everything I’m doing is not with that end in mind. I want you to get back to where you were with your confidence and independence restored. I’m doing it because you’re my wife, and
I love you, damnit!”

“I’m so sorry, Rihaan. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes you did. You meant to hurt me!”

“No, please! You’ve misunderstood me!” Her face crumpled in dismay.

All of a sudden he began to laugh. “C’mon! I was just kidding.
I
was being mean. Don’t you see?” Dropping to his haunches again, he grabbed her hands and gently massaged them, speaking in a more somber tone. “You would never willfully hurt anyone. It’s not in your nature, unlike me. But I’m working on it.”

“You…hurt?” She stared at him with her mouth slightly ajar. “I don’t understand. You are so cryptic sometimes, Rihaan.” She looked thoroughly befuddled.

“Am I?” He cocked an eyebrow and regarded her thoughtfully.
Perhaps the memory loss was a blessing in disguise, an opportunity for me to start on a clean slate
.

“Rihaan…are you okay?”

He blinked, then smiled and shook his head. “Naina! Now this won’t do at all. I almost made you cry. This isn’t how I wanted your homecoming to be like. Please say you forgive me.”

Her smile resurfaced. She nodded. “Yes I do.”

Rihaan breathed a sigh of relief. A certain disaster averted.
I’d better buck up or prepare to get my ass fried!

Then he grinned brightly. “Enough of
bakbak
and time for some
petpooja,
as dad would say. As a welcome back treat, I have prepared for my lovely wife a sumptuous all
desi
repast that’s sure to blow your mind. I’ll have it ready in five minutes flat!” He jumped to his feet and headed toward the kitchen, then suddenly stopped, and turned around. “You married an idiot, Naina, an absolute bonehead! How can I be so remiss? You must be dying to freshen up. Let me help you to the bathroom.”

He crouched down to lift her up again.

“I can get there myself. Just hand me my crutches.”

“But you may fall. Don’t forget you still have your cast on
,”
he persisted.

“No I won’t,” she said with a cheeky spark in her eyes. “Didn’t I hear you mention ‘independence’ not too long ago?”

“Okay, I give up lady. Suit yourself!” He threw his hands up in mock surrender and stood by as she braved the several feet of wooden floor on her own. Abruptly, he found himself smiling. Naina—his little firecracker of a wife who at every turn had left him dumbstruck with awe, was now telling him in her own quiet little way—
‘Fragile I may be, but a weakling I’m not!’

How could he forget all the adversities she had overcome throughout her life? How could he do disservice to the creature who had changed him into a man from a machine? A woman like her needed an anchor, not an impediment. He had to give her room and not just say it. And there were no two ways about it. Having lost her once already, he wasn’t planning on losing her again.

Healing

T
he dinner was a disaster.

Naina had barely swallowed a spoonful of the delicately spiced
dal
soup when she began to splutter and cough violently. The spasms lasted so long that Rihaan was nearly persuaded to summon the ambulance. And he wouldn’t be pacified, even though she pinned it squarely on her wretched digestive system. Instead, he berated himself repeatedly for being overly ambitious and lacking in foresight, and swore never to expose her to such abominable experiments again. He was a horrible cook.

When she woke up the next day, from the longest and most relaxing slumber she’d ever had, and found the curtains drawn even at ten o’clock, she realized the true benefits of this new phase of her life.

There were to be no more annoying vital checks and bed alarms. No more having to save her pee and assuring the nurse that yes, indeed she
did
have a BM. No more embarrassing skin checks and position changes. No more constant poking and prodding. No more threadbare gowns that exposed more than they covered. No more having to wake up when she just got to sleep. No more bland food on regulation tableware, and most of all—no more beeping IV pump jam sessions. The silence was unbelievably melodious and Naina just couldn’t get enough of it.

Her husband had rescued her from hell and she didn’t even know it!

“Rihaan, did you know that you’re such an adorable sweetheart!” she declared aloud to the empty room before bursting out into a fit of embarrassed giggles.

“And look at me, I haven’t even thanked him properly. Poor guy. He must be feeling so awful, especially after last night.”

She sat up and reached for her crutches that leaned conveniently alongside the headboard and hobbled slowly toward the living room, leaning to her left as her right side still felt awkward and weak, from when she had taken a fall and strained her shoulder during one of the therapy sessions. She broke into a wry laugh. “What a mess I am!”

“Press down, hop forward, press down, hop forward.” She repeated the words like a mantra. They were Dave’s—her astounding, patient physiotherapist.

“Rihaan…?” She called out, breathing heavily, the short trip proving to be quite an exertion.

But of course he isn’t here, she thought, gazing around the empty space. There are so many more who demand his time. I’m not the only patient he has. She smiled, “Never mind. I’ll make it up to him later when he gets home. But first, some
petpooja
as he would say.”

She shifted her feet in the direction of the kitchen, then paused and began laughing. “No. I need to freshen up first. Stephie and Cara aren’t going to be here to remind me anymore.”

She hesitated at the door of the bathroom. It had been easy at the hospital to ignore her reflection, because she was supposed to be sick and sick didn’t look good. But that wasn’t the case anymore.

She stared at the mirror. Her reflection appeared as aghast as her. What does he see in me? Except maybe those eyes?

For a brief instant, the girl in the pictures became real—the beautiful, clear dark eyes, glowing smooth skin, brilliant lovely smile. Recalling images of her long lustrous hair, Naina slowly peeled off her turban cap—it had become her most endeared accessory; so much so that she even slept in it. At last, her scalp was beginning to show signs of recovery—a thick black mop now covered it completely. Still, not for a moment would anyone mistake it to resemble the pictures. She pinched her bony cheeks and pursed her pale lips to tease some color into them and then smiled, imitating the girl. She could have very well not made the effort.

She flipped the lights off and finished brushing her teeth in the dark. It’d take a while for her to summon the courage to face herself again.

She slowly made her way into the kitchen, wondering if there was anything edible in the refrigerator. The appetite she’d woken up with had disappeared. But she had to eat, if not for herself, for Rihaan. She owed him that much.

But a surprise awaited her there. Sitting on the counter she saw two large brown bags, each stacked to the brim with cartons filled with an array of fresh mouthwatering and wholesome food catered from god knows where.

It is probably someplace special because they certainly know how to cook for delicate constitutions like mine,
she thought, rolling her eyes back in ecstasy as she bit into a juicy chocolate-covered strawberry.

Rihaan, forgive me, but I’ve lost count on how many things I owe you so far.

A sudden buzzing noise woke her from her trance. And it steadily grew louder. She followed it warily to the bedroom, wondering if she’d tripped on some kind of alarm. It wasn’t. It was just her brand new timed pill box, reminding her to take her medicines. Rihaan had explained it to her while setting it up the night before.

“Now, I’d have surely forgotten that,” she grumbled. She screwed her eyes tight shut and gulped the pills down in one big swallow trying not to gag. She didn’t. But in a few minutes she collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

And so she remained until…

“Rise and shine!”

“Whaaat?” She cracked her eyes open to find Rihaan bending over her with an anxious look on his face. It took her awhile to orient back to her surroundings.

“Whaat’s the time…?” she asked groggily.

“It’s seven in the evening, darling. Have you been sleeping all day?”

She propped herself up, flustered that he’d found her like this, disheveled and still in yesterday’s bedclothes. Swinging her feet off the bed, she got up and would have toppled over hadn’t he caught her.

“I feel sooo…dizzhhy…” she moaned, holding her head as he sat her back down.

“It is not at all unusual when you’ve been sick and confined to bed for the length of time that you have. Your reflexes get all messed up. You have to take it slow.” He said the words with a smile, not appearing in the least concerned.

“But it wasn’t so thish morning. I felt good. I think its thossh medicines I took. They knocked me out compleetly…and I still…feel drugged. Look…I can bare…ly shpeek!” she said, peering at him from under droopy eyelids.

His smile broadened into a foxy grin. “It’s because you’re way too excited to see me.”

“Nooo!” She shook her head. “I mean yesss!” She colored a deep scarlet, furious at being taken in by his banter. Then slowly enunciating every word, she said, “I just don’t think I need them anymore…now that I’m fiiinne.”

“You’re fine because you are taking them. They are keeping you seizure free,” he explained to her patiently, as if to a child with his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“But so many? I don’t think so,” she argued heatedly. “They are enough for a meal! Do Checkk themm.
Pleease!”

“Okay madam, I will!” He surrendered with a laugh, then picking the bottles up one by one from the nightstand, turned them slowly over in his hands. “Hmm, maybe the dose of this one could be reduced. You’re aware why Dr. Beg prescribed them for you?”

Naina nodded. They were her ‘calm down pills’. ‘They will reduce your anxiety levels and keep your mind running on an even keel,’ the beautiful young Turkish psychiatrist had advised her.

“They weren’t doing a good job at the hospital, but now they seem to be working way too well. From tomorrow, take only half-a-pill instead of a whole. I’ll tell Dr. Beg that my wife commanded me to change the dose. Then she might sympathize with my plight.” He grinned playfully, then pretended to howl and collapsed on the bed with her, laughing when Naina came at him with her tiny fists.

“Rihaan I…I want to tell you something,” she said out of breath from the exertion. Her complexion had suffused to a healthy pink and her eyes sparkled. She felt almost normal again.

“Yes?” he asked with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

“You are…the best husband a girl could ever have,” she said solemnly. “One day I hope I can make you a worthy wife.”

“But darling, you already
are
a very worthy wife!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with surprise and delight. He enveloped her in his arms and hugged her (more gently this time). You’ve made me the luckiest bastard in the world. I can’t tell you how happy I am tonight.”

Pillowing her face on his broad chest, she let his solid warmth seep into her tired bones and let herself relax, feeling for the first time utterly free and unburdened since setting foot in this world again.