and see him for who he really was?
How could I have missed this about him?
How many other girls were laughing behind my back?
When I leave Alison, I give her a hug and promise to stay in touch.
I would love to walk over to Ashwin and take a baseball bat to his face. And his car. And his nuts. Really I would.
Bastard!
****
Seeing Alison is not enough -- I need answers from Ashwin. I need to see him and confront him. I feel like I didn’t do and say and ask enough the last time I saw him and Rheema. I need to see him.
But how?
Tarago won’t let me, I know that for sure.
Deciding that it’s worth a try asking, I go in search of my tormentor and find him at the pool area, shirtless and engrossed in the sports section of the newspaper.
With folded arms, I lean against the door and watch him for a while.
He must have seen Ashwin from his ‘throne’ at the restaurant and realized that this guy was messing me around. I must have looked like a total fool. When I think of how I used to run down to Ashwin and how he used to scoop me up and swing me around and tell me how I was worth sitting in the dark waiting for me …
What a goddamn fool I was.
Tarago probably senses me looking at him, because he looks up from his paper at me.
Slowly he lowers the paper.
I walk over and flop into a chair across him.
His gaze is questioning.
“I went to see Alison.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
I nod. “She confirmed what you said.”
He turns out his palms in a there-you-go gesture.
I look away, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was right and I was wrong.
“ En toe ? (And now?)”
I shrug. “I’d like answers.”
“From?”
“Ashwin.”
His jaw sets. “And what would that achieve?”
I shrug. “Closure? To a degree maybe?”
“Forget it,” he says and lifts up the paper again, blocking out my face.
I hop out of my seat, grab a patio chair, place it in front of Tarago and straddle it.
After a moment he lowers his paper and looks at me, then at my crotch. I’m wearing a skirt, of course you can see my panties.
His eyes travel up to my face. Holding his gaze, I inch my thighs apart. His eyes flit between my crotch and my face.
“If I see him anywhere near you, I will shoot him and you,” he says in English.
I roll my eyes. When I look at him again, his eyes are serious.
“Fine!” I say and get up from my chair. Obviously sex didn’t cut it this time.
He buries his head in his paper again.
I help myself to a glass of orange juice from a nearby table.
As I sip on it, an evil thought enters my mind. I remove my shoes, creep behind Tarago and empty the glass of orange juice and ice on his head and all over his newspaper.
Then I run and hide inside the broom cupboard. I hear his loud footsteps and him asking
for me. My smile is genuine. My first smile since I got dumped by Ashwin.
Chapter Thirteen
My disbelief over Ashwin and Rheema’s betrayal, Ashwin’s cheating on me with so many other women has morphed into full blown anger. I’m sullen, snappy and I no longer care. About anything.
It shows, so I’m hassled at the lunch table.
“So are you still crying over that nice Indian chappie?” Hanlie asks, peering at my face.
Great, everybody knows now. Wonderful.
“I once went on a date with a nice Indian chappie,” Anneline says. “He was sweet. Spent money like crazy on me.”
Erika nods. “I wouldn’t mind a nice Indian chappie…”
My head jerks up to look at them. “Why the hell do you have to use the words Indian and chappie in the same goddamn SENTENCE ?”
Everyone stops to look at me.
My voice sounds shrill and strange – like it belongs to someone else.
I think Ashwin’s upcoming marriage, his multiple counts of infidelity and the betrayal by Rheema has left me on a precipice.
Through my fog of disappointment, I can tell that my mental stability right now is questionable.
Surprised looks are exchanged.
“And nice ? Really? Is that how
How could I have missed this about him?
How many other girls were laughing behind my back?
When I leave Alison, I give her a hug and promise to stay in touch.
I would love to walk over to Ashwin and take a baseball bat to his face. And his car. And his nuts. Really I would.
Bastard!
****
Seeing Alison is not enough -- I need answers from Ashwin. I need to see him and confront him. I feel like I didn’t do and say and ask enough the last time I saw him and Rheema. I need to see him.
But how?
Tarago won’t let me, I know that for sure.
Deciding that it’s worth a try asking, I go in search of my tormentor and find him at the pool area, shirtless and engrossed in the sports section of the newspaper.
With folded arms, I lean against the door and watch him for a while.
He must have seen Ashwin from his ‘throne’ at the restaurant and realized that this guy was messing me around. I must have looked like a total fool. When I think of how I used to run down to Ashwin and how he used to scoop me up and swing me around and tell me how I was worth sitting in the dark waiting for me …
What a goddamn fool I was.
Tarago probably senses me looking at him, because he looks up from his paper at me.
Slowly he lowers the paper.
I walk over and flop into a chair across him.
His gaze is questioning.
“I went to see Alison.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
I nod. “She confirmed what you said.”
He turns out his palms in a there-you-go gesture.
I look away, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was right and I was wrong.
“ En toe ? (And now?)”
I shrug. “I’d like answers.”
“From?”
“Ashwin.”
His jaw sets. “And what would that achieve?”
I shrug. “Closure? To a degree maybe?”
“Forget it,” he says and lifts up the paper again, blocking out my face.
I hop out of my seat, grab a patio chair, place it in front of Tarago and straddle it.
After a moment he lowers his paper and looks at me, then at my crotch. I’m wearing a skirt, of course you can see my panties.
His eyes travel up to my face. Holding his gaze, I inch my thighs apart. His eyes flit between my crotch and my face.
“If I see him anywhere near you, I will shoot him and you,” he says in English.
I roll my eyes. When I look at him again, his eyes are serious.
“Fine!” I say and get up from my chair. Obviously sex didn’t cut it this time.
He buries his head in his paper again.
I help myself to a glass of orange juice from a nearby table.
As I sip on it, an evil thought enters my mind. I remove my shoes, creep behind Tarago and empty the glass of orange juice and ice on his head and all over his newspaper.
Then I run and hide inside the broom cupboard. I hear his loud footsteps and him asking
for me. My smile is genuine. My first smile since I got dumped by Ashwin.
Chapter Thirteen
My disbelief over Ashwin and Rheema’s betrayal, Ashwin’s cheating on me with so many other women has morphed into full blown anger. I’m sullen, snappy and I no longer care. About anything.
It shows, so I’m hassled at the lunch table.
“So are you still crying over that nice Indian chappie?” Hanlie asks, peering at my face.
Great, everybody knows now. Wonderful.
“I once went on a date with a nice Indian chappie,” Anneline says. “He was sweet. Spent money like crazy on me.”
Erika nods. “I wouldn’t mind a nice Indian chappie…”
My head jerks up to look at them. “Why the hell do you have to use the words Indian and chappie in the same goddamn SENTENCE ?”
Everyone stops to look at me.
My voice sounds shrill and strange – like it belongs to someone else.
I think Ashwin’s upcoming marriage, his multiple counts of infidelity and the betrayal by Rheema has left me on a precipice.
Through my fog of disappointment, I can tell that my mental stability right now is questionable.
Surprised looks are exchanged.
“And nice ? Really? Is that how
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