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A woman in love can't be reasonable - or she probably wouldn't be in love.
Mae West
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Margot

On my way.

Apprehension fills me as I mouth Vikram’s short text. I place my hand over my heart, it was beating so hard, like that of a girl who just saw her first love.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, I get up from the vanity stool and lie face first on the bed, thinking about Vikram.

Of all the relationships I’ve had, this is the most exciting and, at the same time, terrifying one.

Exciting because everything in me knows that I have never loved anyone like I love Vikram. He makes me feel sixteen again, and the happiness that bubbles inside of me whenever I see him can’t be described with mere words. Each time I look into his eyes, my heart pounds with anticipation. There are times I find it hard to believe what he makes me feel.

But even with my feelings for him, there is something that is always nagging at me, telling me that what I have with Vikram won’t last. And that is the terrifying part.

New relationships blind your eyes to all the flaws, they say, but I’ve had enough relationships to not be blinded anymore, and if there is anything I learned from my dozen past relationships, it is to never ignore the warning signs, no matter how little or insignificant they seem.

With Vikram, I want to ignore all the signs of an unhealthy relationship that are now beginning to, though subtly, surely manifest in Vikram and I’s relationship, and that scares me even more, as it shows how hard I have fallen for him.

In truth, there was one, no, two more suspicious things about Vikram that I couldn’t bring myself to tell Metisha. First is his abrupt refusal to tell me what he does for a living.

Whenever I ask, he either pretends not to hear or changes the topic. But when I got so persistent he could no longer evade the question, he simply told me I would know what he does when the time was right.

That was the first danger sign.

The second was the nervous look he always spotted anytime his phone rang in my presence. He would give me a strange look, stare at his phone, and then ask me to excuse him so he could go answer his call. It was as if he was doing something wrong, something terrible, but what it was exactly, I couldn’t say.

“Margie, Vickie is here!” Maria informs me, and I sigh as my heart begins to beat even faster.

I sigh once more and head out, all the while muttering: “You have to do this.”

“Meri jaanu (My love)” he whispers on seeing me, his twinkling brown eyes bearing raw evidence of how much I am cherished by this man.

He moves forward, and when he wraps me in his arms, my heart melts.
“I missed you.”

In those three words, I could hear sincerity, love, passion.

Unable to take it anymore, I pry away from him. His love for me is without restrictions, I can feel it in his eyes, his touch, his words, and that makes me feel like a cheat for still having some reservations when he is bearing his heart and soul to me.

"You look worried, jaanu,” he says, gently caressing my face. “Is everything okay?”

I look down at my feet. I feel so guilty. Even his caring gaze has become too much for me. He brings my eyes back to his, deeply looking into my eyes as if by doing so, he would discover what is wrong with me.

I look away from him once again, then I quickly let it out before I change my mind. “Vikram, we need to talk.”

He looks at me for another moment. I don’t know what he saw in my eyes but he lets out a resigned sigh. “Okay. But before we do, Margot,” he exhales deeply, “there is something I need to tell you.”

My sixth sense goes haywire with suspicion. He never calls me Margot. Whatever he wants to say must be very serious. And I just grew ten times more nervous.

“Okay. Um.. shall we sit?”

“Unless you would prefer we stand,” he says with a soft smile, and I give a short laugh before sitting on the two-seater with him.

“I..really don’t know where to start. Margot.”

“Could you stop calling me Margot? It’s making me nervous."

"But that’s your name," he counters, a playful gleam in his eyes.

"But that’s not what you call me," I pout childishly.

"Alright, Marcaroni," he says, making a funny face.

"Better."

He smiles but his face turns serious once again. “Firstly, promise me one thing.”

“What?” I ask, clenching and unclenching my fist in anticipation.

"That you won’t hate me after hearing what I have to say.”

I reach for his arms and patted them softly. “Vikram love, nothing can make me hate you.”

And I mean it. Nothing can make me hate Vikram. Even if our relationship ends up not working out, I still don’t think I would hate him.

He nods several times. Something tells me he is trying to buy some time before saying whatever it is that has got him acting out of character.

My eyes narrow with suspicion.

Just what could be wrong with this boyfriend of mine?

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I'm curious too. What's wrong, Vikram?