“Would you like some more of the champagne, ma’am?” the waiter asked, shaking her out of her reverie. “Yes, please,” she said. “He will be here in a few minutes.”
“No problem,” said the waiter as he topped up her glass.
He was already twenty minutes late. It will be ten more by the time he arrives, she estimated. She’d read the menu a few times already, coordinated with her maid an upcoming trip with the kids, flipped through a few dozen videos on her phone, and texted him a few times. Now she just looked around the restaurant. Fancy place, unlike the ones her husband took her after getting married or with family. Everyone looked attractive. Maybe it was the way they dressed, or the fancy lighting of the place, a mix of sunlight and artificial warm daylight, reflecting off the wooden panels and the shiny tinted glass partitions.
A few more sips of champagne later, her phone buzzed. “Parking the car,” the text said. She trained her eyes at the doorway. Any minute now. How would he find her in the crowded room, she wondered. Would he recognize her? She had dressed up in a special outfit especially bought for this day, an outfit quite unlike what she wore otherwise. She’d gotten herself a new haircut, a good deal of makeup, a new perfume, the works. Now she only needed to get her mind to match the physical prep.
He spotted her as soon as he entered. She watched him get into the stride she’d seen in those videos. Handsome as ever. Curly locks. Dimpled chin. A slanted smile. Not very different from the 20-year-old who she saw first at college. Aged, maybe, like a fine wine. A well-fitted jacket, an open white shirt beneath, and jeans. A few heads around the restaurant looked up at him. Presence as commanding now as it was then, she thought.
He came over and kissed her cheek, his fragrance teasing her nostrils as he leaned in.
“So how have you been,” she asked.
“You go first,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh well, nothing much. Husband, kids, parents, his parents. School. Activities. That’s all. Now you start.”
“It’s been great!”
She knew that already. After college, he worked in the family business for a few years, followed by an MBA at an Ivy League. A job at a big four consulting company where he became the youngest country CEO. Then he gave it all up to start his own social enterprise, connecting rural artisans to European fashion houses. It was doing very well. He was a regular on the Paris-Milan-New York fashion circuit. The pictures with beautiful women, celebrities of course, the Hadids and the Clooneys of the world. It was all out there, easy enough, even if you didn’t want to look. Strangely, none of the pictures had his wife in them. Strike strangely, she corrected her thought. There was nothing strange about that.
He went on and on. He was such a natural when he talked about himself. She knew what was true and what was embellished; she knew all there was to him, obsessed with his life as she had always been. Nevertheless, she nodded along; a prompt here, a knowing giggle there.
Then he stopped.
“Do you remember the last day of school? That Day?”
“Y-yes…” she gulped. How could she forget.
“It was the most beautiful time I ever had.”
“But I am sure you had… er… better and more such… things,” she said. She hadn’t anticipated this would come up. Too much time had passed since then.
“But it was the first time. Yours too.”
She tried to look away, picking at the lobster thermidor that had arrived a few minutes ago.
“The funniest part! We almost got caught!”
“Yeah, yeah!” she laughed, “we got caught. Almost! Yeah!”
The faces on the next table turned to glance at her. They seemed amused. Maybe they could hear everything? She shifted nervously, hoping he wouldn’t notice. One part of her wanted to leave immediately, get back to the familiar. Yet, she wanted to stay on, and maybe, this would sort out the emptiness within. She did want something to excite her, something to make her feel alive again. After all, that was the only reason she was here talking to this man, who obviously remembered that day very differently.
“How is your wife?” she blurted. The face that was twinkling and grinning a moment ago turned ashen, as if the lights went off somewhere inside. “Well, you did agree that no question would be taboo….”
“Yes, yes, she’s good. She’s good… I think.”
“You think?”
“No, no, I don’t… I mean she is good. She is okay. In fact, she wanted me to be here.”
“She did? Okay. Good for her I guess,” she said. “Hey, remember the time we went to that place in the hills? Our second… or third trip I think.”
She wanted to steer the conversation to something more pleasant. For him.
He didn’t hide the relief. That trip. Then the other one. Their first overseas trip. The movie dates. The Gujarati play dates. The McDonalds dates. The midnight buffets. He was a man animated, hands waving, eyes emotive, words perfect, like a US president. Her own thoughts, though, drifted in and out. Are the kids okay? Is this a good idea? Didn’t he know I’ve tried to forget that day? Was I at fault? Who the hell is this man now?
They turned down dessert. He paid the bill and tipped generously, addressing the captain by name. When it was time to leave, he came around, took a peck at her cheek, and helped her get up. He walked her to her car with one arm around her waist, touching, but not quite touching her. He nodded to the driver as he held the door open for her.
She asked her driver to wait till he had gone. Her phone buzzed just as she started. It was him: “I had such a lovely time! We should do this again!” She texted a smiley.
She called up the maid, asking her to get the kids ready. They were leaving for the airport right way. Yes, yes, those bags too.
She didn’t want to stay in the house a minute more than necessary.
On the way to the airport, she texted their marriage therapist. “To hell with your rekindling romance shit. I am out.”
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