Ch 2: Finally Face to Face

Anjali -- About 6 AM, the next day.

Anjali lay on her side with her back to Adi, staring at the alarm clock on her bedside table: 5:53 a. m. It would normally wake her at six, but she had already been awake for almost thirty minutes.

Her sleep had been restless, her mind crowded with anticipation, expectation, fear, and apprehension at the thought of her worlds possibly colliding. Yet one conviction had settled within her: the flickering diya and the flicker she had seen in the plane window were signs of some kind.

Normally, as soon as she got up and freshened up, she would light a diya in her mandir. But what would happen when she did that today?

Would it burn in a smooth and steady flame, or would it flicker again?

It was like she was almost too scared to know the answer.

The alarm blared, startling her out of her thoughts. She silenced it with a slap and slipped out of bed. Ten minutes later, now freshened up, she eased open the bedroom door and left Adi sleeping behind her, his light snores following her into the hallway.

For the first time, Anjali approached her mandir with trepidation. She lifted the diya, cleaned it, and discarded the old wick. Then she rolled a fresh piece of cotton between her fingers, nestled the new wick into the diya, and poured in the oil.

Her hand had just closed around the matchbox when she remembered something her Other Husband had once said.

"I have always believed that whatever happens, happens for the good as per God's wish."

She closed her eyes, struck the match, and lit the lamp. God, I know that whatever you decide will be for the good, she thought. The wick caught slowly, then settled within a few seconds into an easy steady flame.

Anjali watched for several seconds, but the flame did not waver. She exhaled, unable to tell whether she felt relief or disappointment. Whatever God decides, she told herself, she would accept it. She turned, slowly opened Anshu's bedroom door and watched him sleeping soundly. She turned towards the kitchen and began her morning work.

At 6:15 a. m., fifteen kilometers away, an alarm sounded in a room at the JW Marriott.

Sid Sharma opened his eyes.

In Anjali's mandir, the diya began to flicker.

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Sid -- 6:15 AM

Sid yawned and stretched before reluctantly pushing himself upright. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he felt distinctly unrested. Thoughts of the day's meetings had marred his sleep, along with a nagging sense that something he could not place was about to happen. His hand drifted to his scar, the beautiful face that appeared in his mind, again felt impossibly close.

He stood, knowing exactly what he needed to do to clear his head, and headed toward the bathroom. After two steps, he stopped and turned back to the bed. He fished around the bed, until he found what he was looking for; the scarf! Grabbing it, he headed toward the bathroom again.

A little over two hours later, Sid stood before the bedroom mirror in a striking navy-blue suit, showered and on a video call with Rhea as they debated which tie worked best. He could hear his daughter Pooja's sweet sounds in the background. Before getting ready, he had spent an intense hour or so, lifting weights in the hotel gym, ignoring the familiar stares from the few other guests there.

His half-eaten room-service breakfast still sat on the dining table outside. "Miya, please pehle shanti se breakfast kar lo (Husband, please eat your breakfast peacefully first)," Rhea pleaded over the phone. Sid nodded. From the way she studied his tense face, he could tell she was worried.

His phone buzzed with an incoming video call from Ro. Sid accepted it and merged the two calls. Ro's sleepy face appeared on the screen, and his eyes widened when he noticed his Bhabhi (sister-in-law) was there too. "Good morning, Bhabhi, looking nice, Bhai (brother)," he said in a flat, drowsy voice. Without waiting for a response from either, he told Sid that he had finished the presentation updates and sent them over.

"Devarji (brother-in-law)," Rhea said playfully. "Looks like you didn't sleep well last night." She winked. "Bhabhi, please!" Ro protested correctly interpreting her sexual innuendo, while his newlywed wife, Juhi, giggled in the background.

Sid had no patience for their banter. He thanked Ro for the update, said a quick goodbye and love you to Rhea and ended the group call just as Rhea was saying, "Love you. Please finish your break--"

Sid studied himself in the mirror, then picked up the scarf and kissed it. He folded it carefully and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket. When he touched his scar, the air behind him seemed to shift. He felt as though someone stood there, gently brushing dust from the shoulders of his coat.

He kept staring into the mirror until her beautiful smile seemed to appear beside his reflection. "Looking even more handsome than the day, I first saw you," she seemed to say. Sid smiled and imagined her winking at him. Then came the unmistakable sensation of a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

"See you soon," she whispered, and he felt another soft kiss against his shoulder.

Sid jerked around. No one was there, of course, yet her presence still seemed to fill the room, and the words 'See you soon' lingered in his mind. He touched his scar again, trying to summon her back, but saw only the beautiful face returned, radiant with that gorgeous smile.

Twenty minutes later, Sid reached the lobby. Subbu handed him yet another flyer for the Saree Expo, which had just opened, and Sid folded it and put in into his pocket. Just then, Pinky rushed toward them, late and visibly worried, carrying two heavy bags while her purse slipped from her shoulder.

Subbu was about to berate her for being late when Sid cut in. "Good morning, Pinky." Then, turning to Subbu, he said, "Could you please give Pinky some more flyers? I'll make sure they're distributed at the meeting at my client's site." Thrilled, Subbu hurried back to his office to fetch them.

Pinky looked at Sid with unmistakable relief and gratitude. He smiled back, and a blush rose in her cheeks.

Five minutes later, their car pulled out of the hotel drive.

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Anjali -- A little after 9 AM.

The usual morning madness was in full swing at the Powar house. Adi stood ready to leave, calling for Anshu to hurry, while Anjali rushed around trying to keep the peace. Even as he turned toward the door, Anshu craned his neck for one last glimpse of the plane coming into land.

Anjali had already showered and changed into a beautiful pink Churidar. With a touch of makeup, she looked fresh and elegant and smelled lovely.

"Pinks on her way?" Adi asked. Anjali smiled and nodded.

"No freaking way am I coming back home today if any of my meetings gets pushed," he said with a smile. Anjali laughed and gave him a playful punch. "It's okay. No freaking way you're getting any special treatment today." She stuck her tongue out at him and winked.

"Better be done with whatever you need with Pinks today, because tomorrow you are all mine," Adi said as he pulled her close to him. Anjali gave him a seductive look and gently tapped his cheek.

Since Anshu was going to be out all day at his field trip, not returning till after 7 PM, Adi had decided to take the afternoon off. They had planned a lunch date and then planned to go for a movie, which Adi had said he had absolutely no intention of watching as he gave her a mischievous smile and gently squashed her ass. Anjali had giggled when she heard him say that.

Five minutes later, she kissed them both goodbye as they headed out. The maid left shortly afterward.

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Sid -- A little after 9 AM

"What the--" Sid checked himself as a message flashed across his phone: their meeting had been delayed by an hour. Pinky turned around with a questioning look, and he relayed the news, unable to hide his irritation. When she asked whether they should return to the hotel, he shook his head. "Let's keep going. Can we stop for coffee somewhere?"

Pinky faced forward again, but not before Sid caught a calculating look on her face. A moment later, she turned back to him. "Sir, now that we have some time, would it be okay if we stopped at my friend's place so I can drop off these packages? It's right on our way."

Sid wanted only a cup of coffee and a few quiet minutes to make his calls. As if reading his mind, Pinky added, "She makes the best coffee in the whole world. All our friends joke that it should be against the law to visit Pune and not have a cup of coffee made by her."

Sid glanced at her expectant face, smiled, and looked away. He remembered how helpful she had been thus far and did not have the heart to refuse.

"Okay, but only if it won't be a bother to your friend--and we must be quick. I need to make a few calls before the meeting, so ten or fifteen minutes at most." Relief brightened Pinky's face. She turned forward, gave the driver directions, and quickly began typing a message on her phone.

Sid gazed out the window, his fingers brushing the slight bulge of the scarf in his breast pocket before rising to his scar. His dream girl appeared in his mind again, and he again pondered on that "see you soon" he had heard, or thought he had heard.

Of course, he had no idea how soon that "see you soon" was going to be.

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Anjali -- Shortly after.

She closed the door as the maid left and almost immediately heard her phone buzz. She picked up her phone and saw a message from Pinks: "On my way to drop off your dresses. I had to bribe my HANDSOME client with the promise of coffee made by you. I told him you make the best coffee in Pune and that it would be against the law not to try it."

Anjali sighed, then she read the final line: "Please keep the coffee ready. We really have to dash--we'll have only ten minutes or so."

A little surprised, Anjali texted back, "How much time do I have ?????"

"About fifteen minutes," came the reply, followed by another message: "I'll text when we park so you can leave the main door open."

Relieved that she had already showered and changed, Anjali quickly straightened the living room. After one satisfied glance around, she gathered the things Anshu had left behind and carried them to his room.

She stopped the moment the Mandir came into view. The Diya was flickering more violently than it had the day before. She approached it slowly, one hand settling instinctively on her right lower back, caressing the spot as though soothing an old ache.

She stared at the flame. For the first time, she felt neither fear nor apprehension, only a quiet resignation. I am ready for whatever you have decided, she thought. She turned into Anshu's room and spent a few minutes straightening his things before heading toward the kitchen.

As she passed the mandir again, the Diya was still flickering violently. The fear she had denied moments earlier tightened inside her, and this time she could not dismiss it. She quickened her pace and continued into the kitchen.

Anjali's phone buzzed again with a message from Pinky. "We're here. On our way up." Anjali quickly opened the main door and leaving it open, looked around the living room one more time. Feeling satisfied, she had just turned to head back to the kitchen, when the phone buzzed again.

"Babes, remember, he is VERY HANDSOME, so don't gawk!!! Also, HE'S MINE!! ????????"

Anjali rolled her eyes, let out an audible sigh, shaking her head, she dashed back to the kitchen.

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The next few minutes played out like a movie, as if the camera was cutting between Anjali and Sid, to present each person's perspective.

Pinky walked in the door first, about two steps ahead of Sid. She could hear activity in the kitchen. Turning to Sid, she said, "Please come in Sir."

Sid followed her in, just as Pinky set her two large packages along the small side table at the entrance, and yelled "Babes, we're here!", even as the packages toppled over.

Sid took a first glance around and had just started saying "This is a beautiful..." when he paused at the sound that came from the kitchen which said, "I'll be right..." and paused.

It was as if both had spoken at the same time, both at heard the first few words coming out of each other's mouth and a sense of recognition had frozen both the speakers.

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Sid

Sid was still barely taken two steps in, but his gaze was fixed towards the kitchen from where the voice had come.

He had not heard that voice in over three years, yet he knew it at once. It had never left him. He was still telling himself it could not be hers when a portrait on the wall to his right pulled his eyes away.

It showed a handsome man in a traditional Indian outfit, looking truly regal. He was holding a young boy, maybe 4 or 5 years old, similarly dressed in traditional attire looking overly cute with his smile.

But his eyes had locked on to the woman in the picture. She was wearing a beautiful lehenga-choli, a light shade of maroon with a matching Dupatta (stole). Her lehenga sat just about two odd inches below an exquisite deep navel, while her choli was just below her perfect breasts. The combination was showing off a gorgeous, toned mid-section. Her neck dawned a Mangal Sutra that sat just above her dreamy, deep cleavage.

Her face exuded a dazzling smile that enhanced her expressive eyes and she looked radiant. A matching Bindi on top, completed this picture of perfection.

She looked like a Goddess!

A Goddess -- that he knew all too well!

She lived with him in the parallel world he had created, where she was always with him, and who always came to his mind whenever he touched his scar. A scar that she had given him!

She was his OTHER WIFE!!

He still had still not seen her, but he now knew exactly who was in the kitchen why she had frozen while responding from the kitchen as she had heard his voice.

He had not even realized that his fingers were gently running over his scar over his suit jacket.

Suddenly, everything seemed to make sense. The uneasiness he had been feeling leading up to this Pune trip, how he had felt she was in the seat next to him in the car just as Pinky had finished her irate phone call yesterday morning, the feeling of her closeness as he slept last night. That "see you soon" he felt he had heard her say just an hour or so ago.

He moved his gaze back to the kitchen door.

There she was!

Looking just as beautiful as when he had first seen her.

Standing in the doorway, watching him intently, her expression stunned as though she had seen a ghost. The expression in her eyes changing between fear to shock to happiness and then repeating all three as if running around in a circle.

Their eyes were just glued to each other.

Sid had balled his fingers into fists, a powerful emotion running through him. He looked up to the ceiling, willing himself not to react. He was not sure what his reaction would be. He looked back at her.

He wanted to raise his hands, so that she could come running to him and jump into his arms, so that he could swing her around in happiness and crush her into him till they were merged into one body, kiss her and express three years' worth of pent-up emotion.

He could feel his hands shaking now as he struggled to control himself with immense difficulty. His mind telling him to turn around and leave before he smashed something with his fists.

He saw the first sign of tears in her eyes, just as he saw Pinky getting up from the floor.

He shook his head slightly to tell her "Don't!" even though he did not want to stop her, since he himself was not sure of being able to control his own tears. He had rarely ever cried. His only recent memory being when he held his daughter Pooja in his hands for the first time.

Life had never given him the luxury to cry or feel weak.

He saw her turn around and half disappear into the kitchen, just as Pinky's eyes were about to spot her. He took the moment to take a deep calming breath as he looked at the ceiling again.

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Anjali

Anjali had heard them walking in through the door. She was just setting up the coffee cups on the tray, which was already set with the sugar bowl, spoons, a plate of assorted biscuits and the pot of coffee. She heard the small thump sound of something being dropped down and the Pinks yelling, "Babes, we're here!"

Just as she started to respond, "I'll be right...", she froze as the second voice hit her ears saying "This is a beautiful..." but the speaker seemed to have frozen too. She looked towards the kitchen door in shock, her heart thumping with fear.

She knew that voice, that deep voice with that default authority in it, just as she felt that voice had probably recognized her voice. But how could it be? She realized the cup in her hand was shaking as were her hands. She quickly set it down.

She strained her ears for more sounds, but the only sound was that of shuffling packages, most likely Pinks trying to arrange the packages she had just set down.

Anjali could feel her heartbeat was elevated. A part of her wanted to run out to see but her legs seemed rooted to the spot in fear. Could it really be him? Pinks had said in her message - Babes, remember, he is VERY HANDSOME, so don't gawk!!! Also, HE'S MINE!

Her heart was still thumping. Very Handsome and that deep voice with that natural command could mean only one thing. He was here! At her doorstep!

And no Pinks, she thought, if it is really him, he can never be yours because he is already mine -- heart, mind and soul!

Leaving the tray as is, she very slowly walked towards the door leading into the kitchen and stood in the doorway, looking towards the living room.

Pinks was facing the wall, bent down, shuffling with the packages. Right behind her, stood, in a striking blue suit, looking more handsome that she remembered him to be, a man with broad shoulders, a muscular chest and a twinkle in his eye.

Her Other Husband was in front of her, not in her mind as a loving memory, but in person.

He had still not seen her. She noticed his attention was on the portrait and knew her voice along with that picture had him frozen. A small sense of pride flickered in the back of her mind. She knew she looked like a Goddess in that picture or so she had been told many a times.

His fingers were just above his heart, as though he was touching something.

She knew what he was touching. A scar! That she was responsible for!

Her eyes flickered for hardly a second to the right to her Mandir and the Diya. It was burning with a nice stable steady flame now. It was as if God was done doing what he intended to do for now.

Bring them FACE to FACE.

Every memory, every minute of every day ever since she had stepped off that train was flashing through her mind at a rapid pace. Those early days, the questions, the fights with God, imagining him in her erotic dreams, his handkerchief.

His handkerchief!!

She suddenly had a burning desire to take it and do her best to bring the dry blood it was covered with, back to life. She felt she should wear his blood as Sindoor on her forehead before he saw her.

Afterall, he was her HUSBAND in her parallel world!

He looked a lot more mature now. The evening stubble had given way to a slightly fuller yet well maintained beard, making him look even more desirable. She wanted to run to him! Jump into his arms, hug him, shower his face with a thousand kisses and cry her heart out. Her legs felt ready to move, her hands starting to rise.

Just then, his eyes found her.

His face still showed the shock that she was sure her face showed too.

His fingers immediately balled into fists, hands slightly shaking as he fought to maintain composure and control. She could tell, because she was also fighting the same urge that he possibly had; to go running into each other's arms.

She saw him look up towards the ceiling, wrists tightening even more before he looked back. There was no lust in his eyes... just desire!

Her eyes had just started to tear up, and he shook his head. Pinks was about to stand up and turn around.

She quickly turned back into the kitchen, taking deep breaths. The desire to burst out crying was overwhelming her.

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"Babes, where are you?" shouted Pinks, followed by an "Excuse me Sir, I will be right back." She heard Pinks walking towards the kitchen, quickly grabbed the tray and turned around just as Pinks entered the kitchen.

"You ok, Babes?" Pink asked looking concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Anjali faked a laugh. Yes, she had seen something of a ghost. After all these years, the person who had lived in her mind and soul was standing in person, just a few feet away.

"I'm ok" she said, "something in my eye, here take this," she said handing the tray to Pinks. "I'll be right out."

Pinks grabbed the tray, turned around and walked out. Anjali grabbed the kitchen counter, took deep breaths again, wiped her eyes and walked out.

He was still standing at the same spot and she heard Pinks say, "Please Sir, have a seat." She set the tray on the coffee table, now standing exactly in between them.

"Babes, this is Mr...." S. Sharma, Anjali mouthed, not even hearing what Pinks had said.

"And, Sir, this is my best friend, A..." but a phone rang loudly and both the ladies jumped, looking around.

Sid, slightly startled himself, realized it was his phone, pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen and then looking at both, said, "Sorry, I need to take this." Anjali felt a shiver run down her spine at the sound of his deep voice.

He looked straight at her, then glanced towards the open balcony as if asking permission to step out there to take the call and she nodded. She watched him stride out, her eyes glued on him as he answered the call.

"Babes! Quit gawking!" came Pinky's whispered voice and she jumped again. Pinky was giving her a meaningful look as she sat down. Anjali gave her a quick apologetic look and sat next to her and both started setting up the cups to pour the coffee.

She was still sneaking glances at him as he paced in the balcony. She felt a little irritated now. How can her take a call at this time? She wanted his hundred percent attention. She hardly heard what Pinks was saying about the dresses, continuing to work on the coffee in an inattentive manner.

She stood up, surprising Pinks, and walked straight to the balcony, where he was pacing, still talking. His eyes fell on her as soon as he turned, Anjali saw his fingers clench into a fist again as their eyes met. "How much sugar would you like in your coffee?" she asked very softly.

Even as she asked that question, she realized that in her mind, even though she had always considered this man to be her husband, she knew almost nothing about him, things that normally spouses would know about each other.

Does he like tea or coffee, how much sugar does he take, what kind of snack if any does he like with his tea or coffee, what is his favorite food? These felt like the most basic questions but were strange to them.

She knew the strength of his arms and the sound of his voice, the feel of his touch, and almost nothing else.

His look almost conveyed the same surprise at the question.

He mouthed -- one spoon, they looked at each other for a second more and she turned back to the living room. "Excuse me," his polite voice came from behind and she again felt a shiver run down her spine.

She turned. He had covered the mouthpiece with his hand and said, "Sorry, my bag is the car. May I please have a paper and pen?" She nodded. She felt a wave of happiness pass through her. Her Husband was asking her to do something for him. It was just a pen and a paper, something trivial, but she felt needed. A feeling of pride and possessiveness filled her. She smiled at him and turned.

Pinky, having heard his request, had already pulled out a pad and pen from her bag and was handing it to her. She took it and turned back. He had now paced to the corner of the balcony that was just outside of the view of the living room.

She handed it to him and as he took it, his fingers brushed hers.

She drew in a huge breath and looked into his eyes. She had longed for that touch! They both held on to the pad for a couple more seconds, as though savoring each other's touch. She let go, he nodded in thanks and she turned back.

Pinks had already kept theirs and his coffee ready. She grabbed his coffee cup, the plate of assorted biscuits and headed back. He was busy writing something on the pad but looked up as she approached. Declining any snack, he took the cup of coffee, their fingers brushing again. This time, she blushed. She saw him smile and looked away as he took a sip of the coffee.

Again, covering the mouthpiece, he said in a quick whisper, "This is really good coffee." He took a second sip. She beamed, feeling proud. He smiled at her as she turned around.

Clearly, the initial shock of seeing each other seemed to have subsided a little.

She sat back next to Pinks, engaged in her small talk, though inattentively, still sneaking glances at him.

They noticed his call was done, but he was busy writing something on his pad. He tore the paper off the pad; she noticed him taking something from his pocket and wrapping the paper around it and putting it back in his pocket. He stood facing out, hands on the railing for a couple of minutes, as she saw him finish the coffee.

He again pulled out the folded paper from his pocket. He did not open it, but just looked at it, turning it around repeatedly, before putting it back in his pocket. Anjali felt he was doing some deep thinking.

Suddenly he turned around, approached the coffee table and set the cup down and addressed Pinky.

"Pinky, you were right! It would have been a crime not to have such excellent coffee." Pinky smiled.

He turned to Anjali, smiled, and said, "Thank you again," his voice polite yet commanding as ever.

Anjali smiled back at him. Their gaze lingered just for a second and then he turned to Pinky and said, "We should leave now." Pinky immediately stood up.

His gaze moved back to Anjali and saw that she had a shocked expression, but neither of them reacted.

Pinky looked at Anjali, who was still looking at Sid and said, "Babes, can I please use the washroom?" and she started walking towards it without waiting for a response or directions, since she already knew where it was.

Anjali had also risen. They were alone for the first time, and they both knew, it was probably only for a few minutes at best.

She looked at him and whispered, "Please don't leave!"

Tears started falling from her eyes. To try and convince him, she quickly walked back to the dining table where her purse lay, removed something from it and walked back, now standing hardly a foot away from him.

She opened her most prized treasure, his blood stained handkerchief, with the "SS" initials and held it up to let him see it. She then kissed it and touched it to her forehead.

She saw his eyes show shock and then a look of profound love.

Sid's fingers had again curled into fists. He took a deep controlling breath, willing himself not to cry, even as his eyes filled with tears.

He understood that she had been carrying that with her everywhere, just like him, how she also was living with him in a parallel world of her creation. That she had waited and prayed for this day when they would meet again!

He looked at her; she saw his wet eyes and her tears fell even faster.

Then, very slowly, hands shaking, Sid put his hand into his coat pocket, and pulled out her scarf, opened it and showed it her.

It was his turn to see shock in her eyes, as the recognition came to her. She looked into his eyes and clamped her mouth with her hands, as she sat down, silently crying even harder, still looking at him, as he kissed the scarf and touched it to his heart.

She had never imagined that something of hers was in his possession and that just like her, he also carried it around with him everywhere. She had never even realized she had lost it and could not fathom how he even had it.

The fact that her belief was true, that he had been remembering her just as much as she remembered him, overwhelmed her.

Sid was taking huge controlling gasps now. She stood up, walked up to him, and arms raised, leaned in to kiss and hug him, but he stopped her. She looked at him with pleading eyes, tears still falling.

Still looking at her with his wet eyes, he lifted one hand and pointed, not at her, but past her shoulder.

She did not need to turn. The three faces in the frame were watching them. He would not touch her under their eyes, not after what their photo on her phone had done to her on the train.

She again clasped her mouth and looked down as she cried without restraint now, doing her best to not make a sound. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, wanted to be hugged and kissed in return.

She felt his hand on her cheek and instantly grabbed it with both hands it to keep it there looking up at him. She kissed his palm lovingly.

His hand was shaking and he moved it behind her neck, pulled her closer and just touched her forehead to his, keeping it there for a few seconds. She wanted to raise her head, to kiss his lips, but his grip was too strong.

He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. Fighting her resisting hand, he pulled his hand back. She again looked at him pleadingly, shaking her head.

They heard the flush in the bathroom around the corner. They knew they had mere seconds now.

His hand went to his pocket; he pulled out the folded paper and stuck in her hand whispering, "Read that after I leave." She merely looked down at it for a second, and he had turned and was starting to walk out. She grabbed his hand and shook her head vigorously, still crying.

He gently freed his hand, brushed the back of it on her cheek again, his eyes still wet. Putting the scarf back in his coat pocket, he walked out of the door without Pinky.

She knew why... he wanted a minute or so to compose himself.

Anjali heard the bathroom door open, quickly wiped her tears, and hid the folded paper and the handkerchief below the nearest sofa cushion.

"Oh my God, did he head down already?" screamed Pinky.

She quickly gathered her purse and said, "Babes, remember, I am out all day tomorrow at an off-site training, so see you Saturday at Adi's function." She said it all without looking at Anjali as she sped towards the door.

She stopped for one more second, turned, and said, "Between your dress"--she pointed to the packages, a big smile on her face-- "and mine, we bitches are going to drop them dead!"

And she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Anjali stood rooted for a second in shock.

He was gone!

She dashed to her phone and sent a message to Pinky -- "Any chance you can convince the HANDSOME HUNK to come to the party on Saturday?" Her real interest was to find out how long he was going to be around.

Pinky's response came back -- "????????????????????"

"BBIIIIIIITTTTCCCCH!!!!!!" Anjali screamed.

That is not the answer she was looking for. Two seconds later the phone buzzed again.

"No chance Babes, depending on how his meetings go today, he will likely head back to Delhi later tonight, or worst-case early tomorrow morning ????????."

She stared at the message, just slumped on the sofa sideways, her feet still on the ground and started crying in earnest.

He was here and he was gone!

After more than three years, was fifteen minutes all she would get? Not even a hug, a kiss? "How is this fair, God?" she mumbled between her sobs.

She groped inside the cushion for her beloved handkerchief, pulled it out and just held it to her cheek crying. She felt something hard, pulled out the handkerchief, and a piece of folded paper fell to the ground.

She gasped remembering his words, "Read that after I leave."

She quickly got up, wiped her tears and picked it up. As soon as she opened it, something like a credit card fell into her lap. She picked it up, looked at it as she turned it around. It was a sleeve with the Marriott logo, with a room number on it, holding a hotel room key card. Puzzled, she set it aside and looked at the second paper. It seemed like a flyer of some kind, but she could not see anything written by him on it.

She looked at final piece of paper, the one from the notepad and saw that he had written a quick note.

"Come what may, I will finish my work today. I am going to change my flight and leave tomorrow late evening. I will be in my hotel room all day tomorrow. IF AND ONLY IF," it was in all caps and he had underlined it too, "you are able to manage it, please come and spend some time with me. I will completely understand if you cannot. Remember, whatever happens, happens for the good, as per God's wish."

She read the note multiple times.

Tomorrow??

She had her lunch and movie date with Adi tomorrow since Anshu was going to be at his all-day field trip.

Anger flared up inside her. She got up and, in her rage, bumped hard against the coffee table sending the contents of her coffee tray flying. Ignoring it, her phone, the card and the two papers in her hand, she marched straight to her Mandir and stood there glaring at the Diya.

It was still burning in a steady flame, albeit she could see the oil was almost spent.

She was about to start her venting, when the flame started flickering again. The first words had barely reached her mouth, when she stopped and stared at it.

What did that mean? For a moment she thought he was coming back and she had almost turned back towards the living room... her phone rang loud and shrilled.

Startled, she quickly looked at it. It was Adi calling. She looked back the flickering lamp, composed herself and answered, "Hey Adi."

"Anju, I am so sorry, but I just got told that I need to be in Mumbai tomorrow for an urgent meeting. I will leave by 7 AM in the morning and probably won't be back till late in the night, maybe around 10." He paused.

She was shocked but did not respond. Assuming her silence to be a reaction of anger, he continued, "Look, I know we had that fun afternoon planned tomorrow, but I really had no idea. This came up suddenly. I am truly sorry!"

She still did not respond.

"I know with Anshu also gone; you will be alone all day. Maybe you can plan something with Pinks, or maybe visit your parents, heck, you can even visit my parents for a few hours and complain to them about how bad I am and make their life miserable," he continued, now adding a little humor to help ease the situation.

This time she did chuckle audibly and felt a sense of relief in his sigh. Her eyes went to the flyer in her hand, and she realized what it was. An Expo for Designer South Indian Sarees at the Marriott, the same hotel her Other Husband was at.

A smile came to her face, and she looked back at the Diya with an apologetic look as understanding blossomed.

"This is going to cost you Mr. Powar" she said, now sounding a little mischievous, "there is a South Indian Designer Saree Expo tomorrow at the Marriott that I wasn't planning on going to. But now, I think I will go and spend a few hours or maybe the whole day there and I am not coming back till I have maxed out all our credit cards."

She heard him gulp.

She laughed and said, "It ok, I understand. It's your work after all. We'll talk about it when you get back home and no, I am not going bitching about you to your parents and I won't max out the credit cards, but I will probably end up going to this Expo to check it out."

"Yes, yes, you should do that!" came his relief filled response.

"See you this evening" he finished and hung up.

Anjali just stood there. She looked back at the letter. The words "Remember, whatever happens, happens for the good, as per God's wish" caught her eye and her eyes became wet. She looked back towards the Diya, and in a small voice said, "I am sorry I doubted" as she added more oil to the Diya, which was again glowing in a steady flame.

She walked back to the sofa and sat down, looking at the mess she had created on the coffee table.

Her biggest worry had always been the sanctity and preservation of both her worlds, if they collided. She needed both! As she thought about what tomorrow was supposed to be versus what it now was going to be, her heart filled with happiness and small tears rolled down.

Her worlds were colliding, but God had ensured that they would not explode.

A sense of relief and happiness filling her, she put the key card, and his letter along with the handkerchief in her purse, cleaned up the coffee table, leaving the flyer there and headed to her bedroom.

She opened her closet door, and lazily looked at all her clothes, trying to determine, what she wanted to wear tomorrow, even pulling out a few options and throwing them on the bed. She looked at them, then back at her closet, now lost in thought.

She shut her closet door with a hard slam. Ten minutes later, having freshened herself up in the bathroom, she charged out of her room, grabbing her purse and keys, she started towards the door.

She stopped as her eyes fell on the packages Pinks had dropped off. Pinks had no idea that along with those packages, she had brought Anjali an invaluable gift, for which she was going to be eternally grateful. Her heart flooded with love for her bestie.

She pulled out her phone -- typed a quick message to her.

"Pinks, you bitch, I LOVE YOU!! ❤️❤️ And yes, we bitches are going to drop them dead on Saturday!!"

She smiled. She knew Pinks would have no idea for the reason behind her random message.

Pinks response was just, "??????"

Before she could react, another message, "Love you too bestie!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️"

She locked her phone and was about to put it in her purse when it buzzed again. A third message from Pinks appeared.

"I don't know what you put in that coffee, but the HANDSOME HUNK seems to be floating on cloud nine ????????"

Laughing aloud, her heart full of happiness, she headed out of the door. She had some shopping to do.

She knew exactly what she wanted to wear tomorrow, when she would go to see her Other Husband!