Page 42 - Till the Last Breath . . .

not to drink in his absence. Kajal found it thoughtful. Who wouldn’t?

Dushyant made her feel wanted. Loved. No matter what the time of day, no
matter what he was doing, one call from her and he would go running to
her. He never let go of her hand, hugged her whenever she needed it, and

made love to her like no one else had. Kajal felt like she was enveloped in a
protective bubble wrap, something that would absorb anything with the

potential to harm her. But soon, the bubble wrap would become suffocating.
Kajal loved Dushyant with whatever she had. Their relationship wasn’t

one of the two-hormone-charged-college-students type, but of two mature
people who saw themselves together for the rest of their lives. When they

lay on the open grounds of their college late in the evening, his rough, gym-
scarred fingers wrapped around hers, she felt complete. As evenings turned
into nights, nights into days, and days back into evenings, their love for

each other grew.
Kajal learnt to overlook Dushyant’s little flaws. Dushyant always said

Kajal had none. Kajal always smiled, even when she felt pushed to the edge
by her control-freak boyfriend.

‘Do you think this will last?’ Kajal said as Dushyant wrapped his hand
around hers in a movie hall.

‘How can it not?’ Dushyant said, and brushed her ears with his lips. He
had done that many times since the first occasion, but Kajal still felt the
chills run down her spine like the first time. Dushyant wasn’t Kajal’s first

boyfriend. But he was the one she would remember forever; she was sure of
that. His touch, the things he said in her ear whenever they were in the back

alley of the dark library, the lingering feeling of his hands on her bare
stomach, his loving fingers on her creamy inner thighs, the wet, gentle

touch of his tongue on her ears … she would never get over them.
‘You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,’ Dushyant said as

soon as an action sequence ended in the movie and there was silence. The
conviction in his voice was very unsettling; it often made her wonder what
would happen if, God forbid, they ever broke up.

‘And still you can’t quit drinking and smoking for me?’
‘I have cut it down a lot.’