The Other Woman

By Arundhati Sarkar

Abantika couldn’t believe her eyes. The dumbbell went rolling as she straightened up.

“Abby!”

“Oh my god, Sam!”

He dropped his gym bag and strode forward, enfolding her in a bear hug.

“My dear, dear, Abby! Is it really you? After what, ten years?”

“Eleven, to be precise. Haha. I was sixteen when you flew off to the States.”

She stepped back to survey him. The lanky twenty-two-year-old had morphed into a tall, sinewy man with a light stubble.

“I see you still have the same glasses, Sam.” He wore almost identical horn-rimmed glasses. “New frame, same design. Tom Ford?”

“Still the sharp eye, I see. Gosh, you’ve grown, Abby. I nearly missed you, without the braces and the boy-cut hair!”

“When did you move back to India?”

“It’s been about eight months, Abs. I came back to Bangalore to start anew. When did you move out?”

“Six years? I’m trying to find my footing here as a freelance writer.”

He walked her out of the gym and invited her to his place the following weekend for dinner. After exchanging numbers, she walked slowly back to her flat. Samarth, after all this time. Samarth, the boy she had spent endless summers dreaming about. Her neighbour, best friend, and mentor. They had played volleyball with the other kids, and lingered by the swings after everyone else left. He would whisk her off to ice cream parlours on sweltering Calcutta evenings on his scooter, and over tubs of chocolate chip they traded dreams.

It was finally Saturday, and Abby sat on her bed, frowning. She’d donned a black jumpsuit and was mulling over her lipstick choice - red or a nude pink?

“Di, bartan ho gaya. Main jaa rahi hoon.” Her maid was at the doorway.

“Haan mein bhi nikalti hoon.” She quickly applied some pink on her lips, grabbed her handbag and the bottle of wine she was gifting him, and headed to Maple Tower, three towers away from Birch, the one she lived in.

“Abantika, welcome! What a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Ah yes, the fiancée, she thought, bracing herself.

“Hi Nayantara. The pleasure is all mine. And please, call me Abby, all my friends do!”

“Well then Abby, I’d much rather you called me Nancy, Nayantara is a mouthful!”

Nancy ushered her in as he emerged from inside, dressed in a black shirt and denims. He smelled faintly of aftershave; the morning stubble was gone.

“Nice of you to show up, Abs.” He gave her a playful punch.

“Not for you, dodo, I wanted to meet Nayantara. She seems sweet, why don’t you learn something from her?”

“I’m still recovering from being your friend. You got booze?”

“D’you still drink Jacob’s Creek?”

Nancy, who had disappeared into the kitchen, now bustled out with a tray laden with nibbles.

“Nance, Abby got us chardonnay. Do you want a glass, or should I crack open the Glenmorangie?”

“Oooh, wine for me, please. I need to prep for my eight o’ clock soon, so I’ll have a glass with you guys and then you two can catch up. Sorry, Abby, but work is crazy right now.”

Sam smiled as he poured his whisky, ice clinking. He handed the wine glasses to the two women.

“Just when I decided to slow down and enjoy the fruits of labour my wife gets a big promotion and now I need to schedule appointments to talk to her, don’t I, babe?”

Nancy grimaced as she speared a kebab.

“Yeah, I’ve been terribly absent the past few months. But I’ll see what I can do once this project ends. So, tell me, Abby, how’s life as a copy writer?”

They chatted awhile until it was time for Nancy to retreat indoors for her call.

“Abby, you must come another weekend. I promise I won’t keep any calls. Deal?”

She gave Abby a quick, tired smile and a hug, accepted a kiss from her husband, and departed.

“You clean up well, Abs.”

His gaze raked over her body, sending her into a flutter. Suddenly, she was a teenager again, and he, her crush. It was never what he’d said or done. There was nothing hotter than how inaccessible he’d been. When he’d told her about girls he liked, or the ones he’d kissed in darkened movie theatres, oblivious to the effect his words had had. Every time he’d make a new conquest, she’d be the first to know. She’d lie in bed later, puffy eyed and pillow-damp, listening to Teardrops on My Guitar, on repeat. So cliché.

But now, he was admiring her. Like she was finally a woman.

“You too, Sammy. You’re gorgeous in black.”

“Isn’t it rather serendipitous that we should meet like this, after all this time?”

Pull yourself together, Abby. He has a fiancée.

“While you’re literally engaged, Samarth? Are you watching too many rom-coms these days?”

He started at this, setting his glass down a little too hard, the loud clunk resonating. The faint drone of Nancy’s voice from inside paused for a moment, before resuming.

His eyes locked with hers again.

“Doesn’t that make it hotter?”

Abby stood up, her head pounding.

“I have to go.” She had marched out of the room before he could protest.

Over the next few weeks, however, it got harder and harder to avoid him. Their gym schedules would strangely coincide every day, and they ended up lingering post workout, before glancing at the time and rushing forth with the day. He’d text her his podcast hot-takes during his commute to work, and she’d send him pictures of the neighbour’s Persian kitten, whom she pet-sat every so often. They found themselves bumping into each other after dinner, strolling through the gardens, warmed by fleece-lined jackets against the evening chill.

“Nancy is so amazing. She’s been such a good girlfriend to me. It’s just... we have different love languages, you know? I want words of affirmation and she gives me acts of service.”

Abby looked up at him, surprised. He never brought her up in conversation, except in the fringes of context - Nancy just rescheduled our double date this weekend, and such.

“Besides, we barely communicate. She’s always hunched over her laptop. I don’t know what happened to us.”

“Mmhmm. Yeah, must be hard.”

“Abby, we- I mean, I- I always felt a special bond with you, you know? Like we were twin souls, or something.”

“Samarth-”

“I can’t stop thinking about you these days. Can’t go a day without hearing your voice. You’re so- so alluring, I can’t help it.”

“Hush, Sam.”

“I don’t know what’s the deal with Nancy these days. She’ll make me breakfast, make me chai, make sure I have everything I need. And yet... we barely talk, you know? Every time I try to spend time, she’s distracted by a call or a mail. She won’t put aside any quality time for me and I’m expected to be okay with that? And when I was in this space, a few years ago, she’d raise hell if I dared postponed a date!”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Samarth, stop it. Stop it!”

“Stop what, darling?”

“You- you’re- playing with my- my feelings! You knew I loved you, all those years, and you treated me like- like-”

“Like?”

“Like I was nothing!”

She stamped her foot at the last word.

“And now you come to me with your girlfriend troubles again and you want me to, what, hold your hand?”

He looked stricken.

“Abby, I never meant to toy with you, okay? I care about you. I didn’t know you still felt so strongly-”

“Well, apparently I do!” She was crying now, the tears rolling hot on her cheeks. “I want you, Samarth, okay? And I can make you happy. We know each other so well.”

“I can’t hurt Nancy, Abantika. Please understand.”

“Then what are we doing? What is this- this flirting, meeting all the time, the sexual tension? I’ve seen how you look at me, okay?”

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I guess I’m confused too-”

“Come to me when you have your priorities straight, okay? Goodnight, Samarth.”

She walked off in high dudgeon, leaving him staring after her.

They studiously avoided each other after that. Abby drowned herself in work and her day-to-day, not sparing a moment to brood. Sam had started appearing very inconveniently in her unconscious thoughts, which she would push away firmly. Waking up one morning from one such dream, she slipped on her running shoes and padded down to the jogging track, the sharp breeze stinging her nostrils. Running calmed her turbulent thoughts – soon she was in mindful rhythm, trainers hitting pavement, breath laboured, navigating a fallen branch here, a fellow jogger there.

“Morning, Abby!”

It was Nayantara, ponytail bobbing as she caught up.

“Hey.” She forced a smile that possibly resembled a toothache induced grimace, and resumed the jog, pacing herself to match Nayantara.

“Never seen you jog before, Nayantara. Are you a regular?”

“I used to be before work got so insane. I did a few 10ks with Samarth. Now I jog sometimes, usually in the evening. How about you?”

“I did a duathlon recently. Bit of a fitness freak, haha.”

“I can imagine. You look so toned. My husband takes care of himself too, I’m the chubby fiancée, sheesh. I only wonder how fat I’ll become when I have a baby- you okay, Abby?” For Abby had abruptly halted.

“Yes, yes, just cramping a little. I think my period’s coming. Why don’t you keep going, Nayantara? I’ll call it a day here.”

“Shall I take you home? Can you manage?”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I just need to lie down a bit is all.”

Nancy walked with her till the elevator door. Abby jabbed the elevator button absently, biting her lip. Husband, she had called him. Why was she talking about babies already? They weren’t married.

She can’t even spare time for Samarth, thought Abby in indignation. He’s too good for her.

Once back, she showered and made herself poha and coffee. Settling down at her desk, she’d barely started working when her phone chimed.

Abby, are you okay? Let me know if you want me to bring some brekkie over, I made French toast. Also, would you like to get coffee at the new café outside Oakwood Heights sometime? Just you and me.

Abby slowly unclenched her jaw and exhaled as she keyed in her reply.

I’m fine, I made poha. Yeah, would like that. 6, today?

Her screen lit up again with a thumbs up from Nayantara. She set her phone to DND and swivelled her chair back to her laptop, eyes unfocused. The sooner this is over with, the better, she thought, grinding her teeth. A gust of wind banged the window shut in front of her desk, and suddenly she was transported back to a nor ’wester on a hot May evening.

He’d been lounging in her room, helping her close the windows before the floors got grainy with storm-swept dust.

“I’m quitting my job, Trixie.” He had always been giving her random nicknames, shortening Abantika to Tikka to Tiksi to Trixie.

“You got an admit?”

“UC Berkeley. Don’t tell your friends yet.”

After the hugging and excited hand-squeezing, they had settled down again, her on the revolving chair, him on the bean bag. He was to leave in two months’ time. Yes, he’d take her out and treat her. No, not just ice cream. A proper treat.

Her phone buzzed insistently, wrenching her back to the present. Her mother.

“Hello, Ma. Kemon acho? Listen, when’s your flight again?”

She hurried across the grounds towards Café RCB (Roast Coast Bake), clutching her handbag. They were supposed to meet at six, and it was already 5:58. She broke into a sprint and raced into the tiny establishment.

“Whoa, slow down! What’s the rush?”

Abby sank onto the pouffe, her breath laboured. She took in the décor – she’d expected a cricket theme, unfamiliar batters and sports puns plastered over the walls. Instead, the place was emphatically rustic – typewriters, a parchment-yellow globe, a transistor radio, a model printing press. Leather bound books. The menu was an intentionally (laminated) worn scroll and there were scraps of paper and pens styled as quills at every table. The warm glow of the bulb and the coffee bean aroma lulled her into sleepy contentment, as she beamed back at Nancy, looking at her as if for the first time.

“You look radiant, Nancy. You’re glowing.”

“Thank you, Abby. I took the day off and decided to make dinner for Samarth. Vindaloo. The glow is probably sweat.”

“Oooh, fancy! Dinner date, huh?”

“Yeah, will be a nice change from stuffing ourselves while taking calls. I need to slow down, too – for both our sakes. Just can’t seem to press pause. Maybe therapy could help. It’s just- there’s a whole lot of stigma attached to therapy, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I think just give it a shot, I guess? See if it helps.”

“Yep, yep. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you! Samarth says you two were best friends growing up, despite the age difference.”

“Yeah, we lost touch after he moved abroad.” Intentionally so. He had tried to keep up, scheduling regular Skypes and writing her long mails about his culinary adventures and the raccoons in his yard. She’d respond less and less, and eventually one day she woke up to the realisation that they hadn’t corresponded in over a year. They’d moved house too, which meant there were no run-ins when he came home during Christmas holidays.

They chatted over a delectable brew and cream-cheese bagels. Later, Nayantara suggested they take a turn about the complex, so they ended up trading stories about annoying bosses and city haunts they frequented. Macrame was their newest shared obsession – Nayantara decided they simply had to attend a workshop together soon.

“I think Nancy and I are over.” His voice was slurring.

She had been lounging on the sofa, considering if she could squeeze in one more Made in Heaven episode before turning in when the doorbell rang. Leaning against the collapsible gate, dark circles and a days-old stubble, he had gazed at her beseechingly. He’d stumbled in and collapsed on the sofa.

“Have some water. Do you need a quilt?”

“I need some fucking clarity, Abs! And I need a normal relationship!”

“Here, cover your legs, you shouldn’t leave the house in shorts, it’s chilly. What do you mean you and Nancy are over?”

“It isn’t working. There’s too much we are fighting about – she wants kids as soon as we marry. She wants to marry, by the way, this winter, can you believe it? I am not even sure we’re endgame. I think I’m done.”

“You’ve dated for two years, haven’t you? You met in Chicago after your gosh-awful break-up, decided to move back here and start a life together! All that history, down the drain? Why, Sammy?”

“Because of you.” He leaned in, eyes blazing. “Everything was going well, until that fateful day at the gym. You’re the first one I want to call when something good happens, not her. You have always been my girl. I want to-”

He broke off, and they were inches apart. She caught a whiff of stale alcohol as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. Surely he could hear her heart pounding?

“I want to, too, Samarth.” She steeled herself. “But not like this. Not when you’re drunk and engaged to another woman. A rather wonderful one, I might add.”

She exhaled and retreated to the other end of the couch.

“I’ve loved you for years, Samarth. I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a girl. Let’s not rush things, okay?”

“If we kissed now, she would never know! Shona – don’t push me away-”

“It’s time to go home, Samarth. To your fiancée. Goodnight. We’ll talk when you’re sober.”

He sighed, shook his head at her, and marched out the door, slamming it behind him with a resounding bang.

She woke up the next morning to a missed call from Samarth and a frantic text from Nayantara.

Samarth left!! We fought last night and he said he needs space. I don’t understand what’s happening, did he tell you anything? Please let me know when you see this.

Heart racing, Abby dialled his number.

“Samarth? You left? What’s happening?”

“Jeez, Abby, I had just gone to sleep again. Yeah, I came over to Rishav’s early morning – couldn’t get much sleep on the couch last night. Rishav, my squash buddy, remember?”

“You broke up? What does this mean, Samarth?”

“It means, my darling Abantika Choudhary, I’m a free bird now. Free to sweep you off your pretty feet, and fly off to the mountains. Do you think we should get a place in Coonoor? You can write and I’ll make a living driving tourists around. Aren’t you going to say anything, shona?”

“Oh, Sammy. This is too good to be true. What’s the plan now?”

“The boys are coming over later, we’re planning a road trip. Should be back tomorrow, and I’ll be in your arms by evening. Need to clear my head first.”

“Shoot! I nearly forgot! It’s Saturday!”

“You forgot the best day of the week?”

“Very funny. My parents are arriving in the evening, they stay a week.”

“Tch tch. Well well, we’ll manage yet. A’ight, I’m going to catch my beauty sleep before the boys arrive and yodel the house down.”

She put the phone down, breathing heavily. It was surreal. This was all she’d wanted for years, and yet-

Her phone was ringing insistently.

“Hello? Nancy?”

Choked sobs. “Abantika I- I am- I don’t know what happened- he texted he’ll stay at a friend’s place today - my friend from work is coming to pick me up later - I can’t stay in the- his flat anymore, I’ll go mad. I’m leaving a spare key with the guard for the maid, okay?”

Both gone, leaving her in a whirlpool of muddled thoughts.

Her parents were relaxing on the couch, sipping the filter coffee she’d just brewed. The same couch she’d almost begun an affair on, last night.

“Rini, is Pondicherry final, then?”

“Sure, Baba. Why not? What do you say, Ma?” The rich coffee scent wafted into her nostrils. She was transported to Cafe RCB again, doubling over with laughter as Nayantara did an uncanny impression of Samarth when his football team was losing.

“Aami toh always ready. How will we go, Rini?”

She gave herself a little shake to push past the reverie.

“I’ll book the bus and the hotel right away. Gosh, we are lucky your flight got cancelled and you found an earlier flight.”

Her mother squealed and hugged her father.

“This is so exciting! The three of us on a trip after years!”

“Wait, Ma! I haven’t even opened the app yet!”

“You take care of all that, beta. I’ll go and quickly meet Debjani Aunty with your Baba.”

“Again Debjani? Geeta, we don’t have time-”

“Arrey, will you relax, the bus will leave at night-”

Abby sighed and padded to the balcony, leaving her parents to their squabble. Sinking down on the floor as she made bookings, warm sunlight caressing her face, she realised she was looking forward to the retreat, herself. All the drama with Samarth and Nayantara had been pretty draining, and maybe a few days in White Town with the most reliable couple in the world was exactly the recharge she needed.

She pulled out her mobile and tapped on Samarth’s name.

Going off the grid for a few days. Will be in Pondi with the momette and the popsicle.

LOL, popsicle for Papa? You crack me up, Trix. Okay, you’re breaking my heart, but have fun!

Spoken to Nayantara since you left?

Good one, Trix. I cannot think of a worse idea. Go enjoy your trip. Send me pictures.

The bus was off at precisely eleven, and got them to their destination well ahead of schedule. After rousing a disgruntled hotel manager who was not expecting anyone so early, they were checked into a cosy room, overlooking the sea.

They lazed about the next few days, strolling around the pretty yellow houses with snowy-white porticos, sampling fluffy pastries at picturesque cafés, watching the sun rise from the Promenade. Abby felt more creatively inspired than she had in months, leaving her phone behind in her room and writing in her little brown pad on the beach. She watched her parents sit in the church, hand-in-hand, basking in the brilliant sunlight streaming through the facade. Their company was pleasant, companionable - the explosive fights she remembered growing up had transcended into friendly, almost affectionate squabbles. Their lives, so wrapped up in hers at one point, revolved around each other now - a co-dependency that had always exasperated her and paradoxically strengthened them.

“Are you planning to marry, Rini?”

She was strolling on the Promenade with them one morning after having spoken to the manager to extend their stay till Wednesday.

“Why, Baba? What’s the rush?”

“We are just curious, beta.” Her mother chimed in.

“I don’t have the energy to date. I’m tired of men, anyway. Except you, Baba.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze.

“Don’t get tired so soon, beta. You have a life ahead of you.”

“I know, Baba. It’s just so hard sometimes, I get sick of all of it.”

He smiled.

“Choose wisely, Rini. Someone who treats you as a priority, who respects you, and above all - who is willing to fight through the bad times.”

“What’s got into you Baba? You’ve never given me relationship advice before.” Laughing, she threaded an arm through each parent’s as they ambled on.

“Which is why it’s even more important that I tell you these things now. Ki go, theek bolchi?”

“Your Baba is right. You don’t have to settle for anyone, Rini. Again, don’t be too picky.”

“Uff, enough with the conflicting advice! What are we doing today? Trip to Paradise Beach?”

They bid farewell to the quaint coastal town and were back to base on Thursday. Saturday crept up without warning; soon they were exchanging hugs and teary goodbyes.

“Remember what I said, Rini. Use the mixer-grinder we brought you and it will make your life-”

“Uff, Uber is so expensive, do we have time to take the bus?”

“No need, it’s just one ride- “

“This is the problem with this country, no regulations- “

“Don’t start now- “

“Your cab is here!” laughed Abby, as she rolled her mother’s trolley into the lift. “Cholo, let’s go! You can rant about the country enroute to the airport.”

“Are you sure we don’t need boarding pass print-outs?”

“We’ve been over this, Ma, I travel all the time-”

“But they stamp the boarding pass! How will they stamp the mobile pass?”

Her mother wailing and father grumbling, she shepherded them into the waiting Swift Dzire and bid adieu. As Rini stood waving, holding her tears back, she became Abantika again.

Her phone beeped, interrupting her reverie.

“Hello, Sam?”

“Hey, baby. You doing good?”

“Better, now that you’re calling.”

“Flirt.”

“At least I can flirt. What’s happening?”

“Well, I’m back. For the time being, at least. I am throwing Nancy her thirtieth birthday party, I’d already arranged catering and everything, sent out cards, so made sense to follow through.”

“Wow, I’ve met people more enthusiastic about funerals. How’s Nayantara taking all this?”

“We’re staying in separate rooms now, and at night I kip on the sofa. We barely talk. I have no idea how she’s taking it. Anyway, can you come tomorrow? I was thinking, once this party business is over, we can have a proper conversation about our future together?”

“Won’t it be awkward if I come?”

“She specifically asked me to invite you. Out of the two sentences she’s uttered since I moved back, that was one. Besides, what could go wrong? We aren’t going to make out at the party, right?”

Abby slipped into her ruby red bodycon dress, dabbed on matching lipstick. I look like a scarlet woman all right, she thought grimly, as she tucked an envelope into her purse before heading out, heels clicking.

The party was in full swing when she arrived. Samarth had gone all out with the planning: streamers, strobe lights, even a disco ball.

“Hi, beautiful! How do you like the disco theme?”

Samarth opened the door in sky blue bell-bottoms, grooving to the music.

“Amitabh from Deewar called, he wants his trousers back.”

“Make your jokes a little less cliché, Abby, and you might get a laugh. Here, meet Rishav... Javed... Akshata. Guys, this is Abantika, we were best friends growing up.”

“Nancy! You look stunning! Many happy returns.”

She had emerged from a throng of friends, wearing a sequinned gold dress, matching gold eyeshadow, and a rather forced smile.

“Thank you, Abby. Notice the theme? Golden oldies for a golden oldie!”

“Baby, you aren’t old, you’re vintage.” Samarth reached for Nancy’s hand, who visibly flinched.

“Come, Abby. What’s your poison?”

Two hours later, sweaty from the dancing and cheering, Abby slunk out, still clutching the envelope she’d brought. Pulling out her mobile, she tapped out a message.

Come down to the gym, Samarth. Does 12 work?

You want to do it on a medicine ball? Hot! he wrote back.

Chuckling, she stepped briskly out of the elevator into the cool night air. Finally, after weeks, she was at peace. She was doing the right thing.

When Samarth came down to the gym, he found a sealed envelope placed on top of the register, carefully held in place by a water bottle. The envelope contained a letter and a gift card.

Dear Sam (the letter said),

I’m leaving for Kolkata, will be in the cab by the time you read this. I need to burrow in my old blanket for a bit, spending time with my parents made me realise how much I miss home. I haven’t booked a return ticket.

I thought you were the one, I really did. But I deserve to be chosen, not play second fiddle to the woman you’re having a rough patch with. Nancy is a gem of a person and I would like to be her friend, not make her hate me forever. I think you care for her too - we were just chasing a nostalgia-fuelled fantasy. I’ve enclosed a voucher to the hotel we stayed in in Pondi, it’s my gift to you two. Take her to the seaside and have a romantic getaway, Samarth. I’ll text you my therapist’s number, I think you two need couples’ counselling.

As for me, my lease is up this month. I’ll probably come back to vacate my flat and then I’ll move to a different part of the city - I’ve always wanted to stay in a villa. I’ll miss pet-sitting the kitten, though.

I hope we find our way back to each other, someday, as friends. But fix your relationship first.

Forever yours,

Trixie <3

PS. Burn this after you’ve read it. I don’t want to be a shadow in your marriage any longer.

By Arundhati Sarkar