Varun had been gone for 3 days now and I was back to the same old routine. I would go for a jog albeit a little late than usual.
I was trying to avoid Jacques after a series of incidences between us. The memories of the stormy evening and the dinner were still fresh.
Once home, I would get back to doing my chores and other work and in the mean time I would laze around.
The memories of the evening kept playing inside my confused little mind again and again. The way he remarked on my breasts, the way he kissed me and the under the table play; the kiss in the living room, the soft squeeze during the selfie and several other instances of our past lingered in my mind till the point I was only thinking of it.
What had emboldened him to do something like this? Was it his nature? When I had first met him he seemed to be a gentleman but now he seemed something else. Was he always like this or had I provoked him?
My silence, my blushes and my smiles perhaps emboldened him. I cursed myself for not stopping him and nipping the whole thing in the bud.
I don't know what came over me when I was with him. From the very first time when I caught him ogling at my cleavage to the evening in my home, I had silently let him, not at once stopping him apart from a rare feeble no.
The more I thought about it, the more I would get turned on. The attention Jacques showered upon me was something that I craved for. A husband away for months, a job that allowed a lot of free time and most of all...loneliness was what I had to deal with. Apart from the women in my building, I mostly had no friends.
Ever since I had moved to Mumbai from my native city, I lost touch with most of my friends. Most women I was friends with were older than me, whether they were colleagues at work or in the building.
Being a married woman, I never really had company of other men even if it was platonic. The Mangalsutra hanging around my neck was the 'Fuck Off' sign that all Indian men read. Jacques not only became my friend but kind of made me feel young again.
When I was with him I didn't feel like a middle aged married woman, I didn't feel like a typical boring school teacher. I felt like the same bubbly twenty year old that I was long ago.
His eyes displayed his craving and that made me feel wanted, desired. Being the object of his desire made my loins tingle. The idea that a handsome young man was attracted to me pushed me towards him. I had slowly started craving him too.
Not that Varun was bad in bed, he was pretty good but our passionate days on his short trips back home didn't compensate for his long absences. I am a woman and I want to feel loved, desired and touched and I want it often.
A couple of more days passed since Varun had left and I stuck to my routine of going late for jogging. After finishing my jog, I stood near the elevator as it came down to the ground floor. When the elevator arrived and the door opened, I saw Jacques standing inside. I was a little startled since I had been avoiding him every since and now he was standing in front of me.
Dressed in crisp formals, he smiled at me as he stepped out of the elevator. He stood in front of me. I wanted to avoid talking to him but one look into his expecting eyes made me stay glued to my position.
"Hi Rhea. I haven't seen you around." He said.
"Yeah....I've been busy." I replied trying to come up with an excuse to avoid him. I couldn't dare tell him why I was avoiding him and I didn't know why I couldn't.
"Your husband has left?" He asked.
"Yeah...been almost a week since he left." I replied to which there was no reaction from him. I was expecting the entire opposite or at least a smirk but got nothing.
"Hey listen; thanks for the wonderful meal the other night. I loved the biryani." He said. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, having an awkward conversation with him about the evening.
"As you invited me for dinner and served me a delicious Indian meal, I have to invite you for dinner to my place as well and serve you some French food." He said. I was taken aback, not from the invite but from his avoidance of any mention of our under table activities that evening.
"But...my husband had invited you and he isn't here." I replied, throwing a lame excuse to avoid going to his place.
"Well...then we will have to wait for months for that to happen. C'mon, just one simple dinner with a friend won't harm you." He pleaded, trying to coax me into agreeing.
I agreed that a simple dinner won't harm but going to his place and any pre or post dinner activities or initiatives by him could be harmful.
"C'mon Rhea...Tomorrow evening at my place." He pleaded again. I juggled with the idea in my mind for a couple of minutes and decided to say no, a firm no.
"Let me think about it." Was what I replied.
'What the fuck did I just say?' Was what I thought the next moment.
"Okay...if you decide to come, I will be waiting in my apartment tomorrow evening at 9. I hope to see you." He said ecstatically.
I didn't say anything further, bid him goodbye and got into the elevator. The whole way back to my house I kept thinking of what I just said. I cursed myself for betraying myself. I had decided to say no but ended up saying maybe. Fuck!
Now that I had said maybe, then maybe I won't go to his place. The rest of the day was spent in thinking of the same thing. What would this mean? What would happen if I go? What if something happens between us? What would be the consequences? The whole day I kept thinking of the same and by the end of it, I got a headache.
The sun rose the next day but even after a long night's sleep, the questions started pestering me the moment I woke up. I decided not to go for a jog, instead went back to sleep, hoping I would wake up fresh and perhaps all these thoughts would go away by then. I was damn wrong.
I went about doing my chores like cleaning, washing and cooking, checking my watch so very often, counting the minutes before I had to go to his place. I had to make a decision well before that.
If I didn't go then the signal would be clear. He would realize that I wasn't interested in taking matters any further and he'd stop. On the other hand, things could get very awkward between us after my snub and I'd end up loosing a friend, a good one rather.
Apart from Rupali, there was no one in the building of my age besides Jacques. Rupali was a typical Indian housewife who loved to gossip, watch soaps and gossip some more.
