CHAPTER SEVEN

Betu was more concerned about her Jeeju than how my life with him had begun.  I couldn’t help myself. He was just so proper and buttoned up. It drove me crazy.

“Oh! Don’t give him so much credit, he’s always in that executive mode. You should see him when he enters the house.”

I mimicked his deeper voice, how he loosens his tie with one hand when he walks in the door, his other holding his phone. I shouted across the room, just like he always did “please get me a coffee, Chhaya Didi! In my room.”

Betu burst out into laughter and protested, “oh! He can’t be like that. I’ve never seen him doing such things.”

I challenged her. “Well, wait until this evening, you’ll see. He ignores me, won’t say anything to me when he comes home, and he’s constantly on his phone. I’m telling you, the man is a workaholic.”

I shook my head, realizing exactly how hard it was to communicate with him. I mean if someone would say