‘Don’t teach me manners,’ he tried to defend himself, aggressively though. ‘I don’t see anything wrong with it. As your husband, I feel I’ve every right to know about your affairs.’

‘I don’t think,’ she said coolly, ‘that by being your wife, I have lost my identity. I hope you would respect my feelings in future.’

‘Are you suggesting,’ he said volubly, ‘that I am an insensitive character?’

‘I stated a fact,’ she said vexed herself. ‘No more, no less.’

‘Maybe,’ he said provocatively, ‘you’re afraid that I would catch more of the skeletons as they fall.’

It’s a behavioral pattern with many, in that having committed an indiscretion in the first place; they tend to assume an aggressive posture to provoke an argument, as though to obliterate the origins of their misdemeanor that led to the ordeal.

‘It’s not fair,’ she said trying to be composed.

‘Oh! You talk about fairness,’ he raised his voice. ‘Now I know why you were married off in such haste, dropping you from the college mid-course and all that.’

‘Well,’ she said defiantly, ‘there is Ramu’s parallel, isn’t it?’

‘His affairs,’ he mouthed words for an argument, ‘won’t affect us but your sister’s would.’

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‘If that worries you,’ she said tersely as she went into the kitchen, ‘you’re free to divorce me.’

The unexpected turn of events shocked Sathyam, and he realized that it was all of his own making. He thought of apologizing but his pride came in the way of compromising with his wife. As a way out of his predicament, he went out, as though to give her time to cool down.

When he came back, he found food was laid on the table but saw Roopa lying in the bed.

‘Oh, come,’ he said going unto her, ‘let’s have dinner.’

‘I’ve no stomach for food now.’

‘Without your eating,’ he said, sitting beside her, ‘do you think I would fill my belly?’

She got up without a word, and he followed her to the table. After that silent dinner, seeing her make a bed for herself in the hall, he said persuasively, ‘Let’s forget about it.’ As she didn’t respond, he repeated himself, if only more earnestly.

‘Maybe,’ she said preparing to lay her makeshift bed, ‘it’s easy for you.’

‘I am sorry,’ he said sitting by her side.

‘By now I know,’ she said pushing him aside, ‘your sorriness is meant only to obtain bedtime favors.’

‘It’s not the case,’ he pleaded, ‘I am really sorry.’

‘Last time too you said the same thing,’ she reminded him. ‘How am I to know that you’ve mended yourself?’