Must Read: The Silent Lover - Season 1 - Episode 66

7 years ago

Must Read: The Silent Lover - Season 1 - Episode 66

On Saturday evening, Komal showered and shampooed, pedicured and manicured, and then gave herself a facial. Deciding something, she brushed her hair and worked it into a loose Gibson-girl style and put on chunky gold earrings.

Looking into her bedroom mirror, she was stunned. It had been so long since she did any makeup. But it felt good. She felt like a new lady, a better woman.

The dress she chose to wear was a warm Laura Ashley print, in shades of russet, green and brown. Its main attraction to Komal was that it had high neck and long sleeves, and the hem was only a few inches off her ankles.

With opaque black tights to complete her cover, Komal was reasonably satisfied with the result. Low-heeled shoes were not unattractive on someone of her height and slenderness.

She was giving herself a critical look when the phone rang. Picking up the receiver, she put it to her ear.

“Hello?”
“Komal?” Sikander’s voice was unmistakable. “You ready?”
She answered in the affirmative.

“Good. I’ll be there in a few minutes.’’
What he was up to, she knew very well, Komal thought as she put down the phone. But what she wanted to do, she wasn’t quite sure.

No, she was sure. She decided. What she really wanted to do was get it over with. They would have dinner, and share a silted exchange of news, and then he would repeat the same question, his proposal, and this time she’ll blast the bomb.

Yes, she had to tell him now, that there had been some other man in her life and she was sure, once she tells him that, he was never going to ask for her hand again, as a matter of fact.

As Sikander reached her home, her mother ushered him to her bedroom, he halted in the doorway, realizing she was not yet aware of his presence.

He caught his lower lip between his teeth as he stared at her dropping figure.

“Komal.”
Her name was barely audible across the silent room but she heard him and turned.

“Oh….hi Sikander.” She said, forcing a smile that was determinedly bright.

Sikander seemed to be having difficulty in adjusting her appearance, and Komal lifted a nervous hand to her hair, wondering if she looked as distraught as she felt. It had obviously been a shock for him, seeing her like this.

“How have you been?”
“I’m alright.” Biting her lips, she took a steadying breath. “So, you wanted to talk?”
“Not here.” He looked at Komal as if he still couldn’t believe his eyes, and then added, half impatiently.

“We need to go somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“Just trust me and follow me.” He gave her a very meaningful look. “You won’t be disappointed.”
Komal averted her gaze and swallowed.

He had a great way with his words, always very determined and sure of himself, expert in the art of talking.

“Komal, you look so pale, so thin.” He said, his eyes going directly to her wavering gaze.

She made a conspicuous effort to avoid his knowing gaze.

“Shall we go now?” She asked, finding it difficult to say the words with his anxious eyes upon her.

“I think so.” He answered.
He sung away from her, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets.

He looked attractive this evening, though his cloths were not formal, as she had expected.

He had his button-down collar, worn without a tie, she noticed—-and black-corded trousers were decidedly casual. He fine wool jacket he was wearing with them was gray.

“I’ll get the car.” He said, as she reached the doorway.

“Okay.” Her answer was short as she followed him.

Sikander drove well: fairly fast but not so uncomfortable. They arrived at The Roundhouse, in what seemed an inordinately short space of time.

He circled the car and opened her door.

The porter welcomed them with a smile and nod of his head. Sikander stepped back to let her precede him into the restaurant.

The Roundhouse turned out to be a converted windmill, whose stark white-painted facade belied the colorful warmth within. A mirror-backed bar adjoined the circular restaurant, and there was a comfortable air of bustle, and the delightful smell of good food. She followed him to a table in the corner.

In the polite process of choosing where each of them was going to sit, Komal was able to relax, and she was happy to use the excuse of studying the menu to avoid any further contact with Sikander.

But when their orders had been taken, there was nothing to prevent him from looking directly at her.

“Your favorite mango juice, as requested.” Sikander announced, as the first preliminary drinks arrived, setting a glass containing a measure of fresh mango juice in front of her.

He had got himself a drink too, Komal noticed.

Orange juice by the look of it, and her eyebrows lifted almost involuntarily.

“Cheers!” He lifted his glass towards her.
“Cheers.” Komal echoed.

“So.” Sikander sighed, lounging indolently in his chair. “What have you been up to?”
“I was going to ask the same question.” Komal tried to smile, taking short sips of her drink.

There was complete silence of few seconds between them. She waited for his answer, but it never came.

“Do you like my new dress?” She asked, just to bring a topic to start a formal conversation.
“It’s beautiful.” He assured her as he reached determinedly for his glass. “Like the rest of you.”
His remark was unexpected, and almost involuntary, she felt the warm color surge into her throat at his appraisal.

“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t.” She replied evenly, swallowing a mouthful of the liquid. “It’s just that I never saw you commenting like this.”

“How many times have we actually met, do you remember?” Sikander asked, his eyes smiling.

“I think 3 or 4 times?”
“Yeah.” Sikander agreed, his eyes as cool as ice floes. “How am I supposed to give any personal comments about you, then?”
“I suppose, there’s no need to repeat the same question I’ve already asked you twice.” He began formally. “I just wanted to know if your answer is still the same.”
Komal managed to take a long breath. Now was the time, to tell him.

“Sikander?”
“Hmmm?”
“Tell me honestly.” She now looked deeply into his eyes. “If you found out that your wife used to like someone before marrying you, what would be your reaction?” She asked as she put her glass back on the table with a decided snap.

“Would you still think she’s being fair to you?” She reasoned. “Don’t you think it’s wrong to marry someone who loves someone else?”
“Slow down lady.” Sikander said, showing her a gentle smile. “You’re asking too much questions at once.”

“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shook his head slowly.

She watched as his lashes dropped to veil eyes that were presently a watery shade of gray.

He had long lashes for a man, and they did a successful job of hiding his feelings.

“No, I don’t think its wrong—-not if I am willing and if she does not hide anything from me.” He replied.

“As long as we both go into the marriage with our eyes wide open, we can make it.”
Komal was so shocked she was sure she must have misheard him.

“I beg your…..”
“No, you don’t need to hear it again when you’ve already got it.” He smiled gently.