Page 45 - Till the Last Breath . . .

‘That’s just unfair.’

‘Whatever,’ Dushyant said. ‘Can we not talk about this?’
Dushyant didn’t bring up the topic again that evening. The rest of the
evening, he was rude to her. They went back to his friend’s flat and slept

there. Dushyant was rough with her that night. For a change, they weren’t
making love, they were having sex. There were no intermittent, passionate

love-yous exchanged during the course. There were just grunts and groans.
It was almost like he wanted to hurt her physically. He didn’t hug her to

sleep. Kajal hoped he would be okay the next day, but it only became
worse.

The next evening, Dushyant was drunk out of his wits again. Old Monk.
Smirnoff. Chivas Regal. Nail-polish remover. Iodex. He called Kajal and
told her, ‘You love him, I love this! I will never quit drinking or smoking!’

He called her names, abused her family and Varun, and disconnected the
call. Later that night, Dushyant’s friends called her to give her the address

of the hospital he was admitted to. He had passed out and was frothing at
the mouth. Kajal filled out the paperwork in the hospital the next day and

got him back to the hostel. It was the first time she’d had to bring him back
from the hospital that month. Within that month, it happened thrice. Each

subsequent time, it was worse. By now, Kajal was used to his druken
tantrums. The abuses, the name-calling, the threats—she had become used
to everything. It was the price for true love, she told herself. There wasn’t a

fourth time.
A few days later, he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. Her patience was

tested, and she didn’t think she had the strength to carry on. She vowed she
would never go back to him.

Kajal lay with her head on the pillow, her thoughts going back to every time

Dushyant had said they would last and that he would never hurt her. She
believed in him. It was all lies.

The memories of the day they had broken up were imprinted on her
brain, and she knew she would never forget what had happened.