EHSAAS - A Collection Of Short Stories

4.

Virat's Pov

Would you call me an asshole if I told you about how my wife waited for me for the dinner, and instead of acknowledging her efforts, I behaved like a total jerk?

But this is who I am. This is what I've become in the past two years. My distant demeanor has become a part of me, making it challenging to acknowledge the efforts of those around me, including Meera.

Last night remained a blur in my mind after our short, not-so-nice talk. I felt a pang of regret, realizing my words might have caused Meera distress, her eyes welling up in response was a proof of that.

I knew I was being cold and distant, forgetting that it wasn't her second marriage. She shouldn't bear the brunt of my past and coldness, yet she tried to fulfill the role of a devoted wife, despite our marriage being merely a formality.

The entire night I spent in guest room going through few case studies and medical advancements report as a doctor I needed to be updated.

The next morning, heading to leave for work, I looked at the dining table. It was as it was the night before – flowers wilted, and food untouched.

Has she not eaten anything? Frowning at the plates, I asked the maid Rani, "Did she have her dinner?"

She was upset that could easily be seen from her face,"Mam has barely eaten anything since the day she came."

This isn't good. If this continues, she might end up in the hospital. I was about to leave, but then I unbuttoned my shirt, rolled up my sleeves, took my watch off, and went to the kitchen.

The last thing I want is a patient in my home, and neighbors blaming how cruel this guy is for treating his wife like a piece of shit.

"Sir, tell me what you want I'll cook for you",the cook standing behind the kitchen counter said to me.
"No need for that. And, it's your off today"

I opened the fridge and the first things I saw was eggs. Scrambled eggs, would do for the breakfast. I started cooking for her.

After about thirty minutes, she emerged from her room, donned in a lavender saree made of light fabric.  Not anticipating my presence in the kitchen, she halted where she stood, unable to move forward.

Her face sculpted in confusion, her expression questioning if this was real. Did he not declare last night that he had no time for romantic dinners, Meera?

"Good morning, Meera! Please, take your seat," I said while setting the plate. Without uttering a word, she settled into the chair.

As I began eating, I noticed she wasn't. Her gaze fixed on me, lashes twinkling. "Is something wrong with my face?" I asked. She shook her head in response.

Waiting a few more seconds, I said, "Meera, you know, we teach language for a reason – to express. So, what's on your mind?"

She spoke in her usual soft voice, saying, "I am vegetarian. I don't eat eggs."

A feeling of regret washed over me.
Shit! That's why she wasn't eating anything. I should have known before preparing such a meal. She noticed the remorse on my face, and she reassured, "It's okay! I will prepare something for myself."