Read Part 5 - here
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This was the third time since yesterday that Uma’s mother-in-law had made acute observation on her sudden gaunt face.
‘You’ve not been eating’ she said while scrutinizing her daughter in law at the breakfast table who was quietly staring at her phone.
Uma tried to feign surprise and searched for an excuse but gave up after raising her brows to look shocked. She muttered something about feeling ill but the voice weak and unsure never found its way amidst the commencement of another conversation regarding the sudden pleasantness in weather.
All the better for her she thought.
Uma didn’t want anyone suspicious of the sudden headlong dive her happiness seemed to have taken. Her short run of luck had finally run out and the spluttering fumes of leftover kismet weren’t enough to push her heavy wagon of life that seemed riddled with excess baggage.
She’d never told Manu of the curse that once blotted her life and didn’t intend on doing so now.
‘Don’t get upset about what mom said. You look pretty as ever.’ Manu spoke with a soft smile and left for work shortly after which Uma found herself staring at her computer screen.
The events of the past days had congealed her ability to do anything other than obsessively thinking of the possibilities while chewing her nails to a tattered stub. She’d begun peeling at the cuticles while ferociously imagining, presuming and deducing her next step.
Uma had decided to pick up the phone when it rang next and speak to the bastard asking him what was it that he wanted.
Annoyingly she was curious to know how he’d found her and decided to ask him that as well, but rethinking these questions she realized how moot they were because whatever his plan was he’d actuated it by sending the photograph.
That man was capable of so much worse and the myriad probabilities of what he could do next physically stung her heart. She was exasperated at her imagination that took her places of no return. The thoughts were chafing inside her head, maddening her and she furiously punched a wall in frustration, silently screaming at the pain of feeling cornered.
Of course, she could just tell Manu and that’d be it. They’d brave it together and, oh god she didn’t want to tell him.
He should not have to know any of it. Theirs was an unblemished velvet garden of primrose bliss. To have it tarnished, to have a stray thorn compromise the careless pastures of uninjured freedom was not an option, not now not ever.
But then what? What was she to do? Uma quietly screamed as her fist thudded against the wall, tearing the thin skin on her knuckles to draw a small wound that slowly oozed scarlet.
If this had been his face I’d have happily bashed it inside his skull.
The razor pincers of past hurt and upcoming unpleasantness clamped through Uma’s innards and the old foul sensation of a turgid worm lurking within her, smearing her skin with its soiled slime, staining her existence resurfaced again.
Uma drew in a deep breath when the phone rang again.
This time it had a name.
Bastard Calling
She said nothing and waited for him to speak holding the phone near her ear without touching lest his voice dirty her.
‘Uma?’ the grainy, unctuous voice that she wished never knew spoke her name.
Uma winced. The old scabs suppurated; Nausea had found her again. How she suddenly hated the sound of her name.
‘What?’ she growled.
‘Woohoo’ he cried and she knew exactly the facial contours his ugly mug had undergone at that moment.
He sat with a large glass of whiskey.
It didn’t matter what he was drinking as long as there was a drink and one, especially in the morning, saw to it that his day went by smooth and he’d needed it today because something told him that Uma would finally speak to him.
How her voice hit all the right spots within him.
‘Woohoo,’ he screamed and jumped up spilling the drink all over him.
‘How are you?’ he happily asked her. Oh, he was happy and excited to finally get to talk to her. Like a long-lost friend suddenly come to life he wanted to ask her so many things. His face was animated with light and he refilled his glass staring at the beaming amber which seemed to echo his brightness but there was no reply.
‘hello?’ he sounded concerned.
‘what?’ she repeated somewhat tersely, but as long as she said something.
‘Hope you’re doing well.’ he snorted with laughter downing the big drink in one gulp.
‘What do you want?’ her voice sounded angry. Almost like a suppressed scream but he was being silly he knew. She’d heard him after so long she didn’t know how to react.
‘Uma, it’s me.’ he chirped gleefully. ‘What do I want? well..’ he waited for her to guess but seeing no answer forthcoming he said it himself. ‘Uma, I want you.’
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