Read the previous chapter here.
Shekhar's eyes had searched for Jennifer while smiling at the departing guests. He had seen her snapping a few photos of Roohi and her friends while the bounced recklessly on the bouncer. The freedom of childhood, Roohi was almost a tweenager now, and would blossom into a beautiful young lady soon.
His only worry these days seemed to be Tara, she was becoming detached and distant. Her smiles never reached her eyes even with Roohi. And now he appeared to have accepted his writer's block as a permanent fixture, not even bothering to make an effort to write.
This marriage was becoming more of a farce ,Shekhar couldn't remember the last time they shared any intimacy or even a bed.
***
Tara dressed smartly in a gray pinstripe pencil skirt and a new white peplum shirt. This stressful situation was good for her figure. She was looking even more wraith like than before. Pity those pictures never came out as good as that photographer Jennifer Joseph's reputation promised. She stepped into her black Ferragamo pumps ,almost guiltily, they has cost a bomb ,but she could afford to pamper herself. After all ,her husband never could.
New love brings excitement and something to look forward to...
Tara had begun thinking of her future in a new direction, tangential to the present. She smoothed down her skirt promising to skip breakfast and have a protein shake instead in the office. With a smile on her lips ,she picked up the documents and her bag and walked out of the room telling Shekhar she was leaving. He followed her out to the door like a housewife requesting her to have the parantha's he had made for her breakfast.
Paranthas?
Honestly?
And she was finally happy with the stress.
Tara stepped into the waiting car and nodded to the driver to start.
It was not a long journey, but enough to allow her to collect her thoughts and prepare for the day ahead.
Tara stepped walked out of the elevator onyp the plush carpeted floor to her office and acknowledged the greetings of her subordinates.
"Get me a protein shake, vanilla with kiwi and you remember no? No sugar." ,she told her Personal assistant.
Settling down in her chair, she admired the aesthetic sense of the interior designer. It had been a long and tedious journey to this snazzy office and chauffeur driven car and personal assistant and her Ferragamo pumps. But somehow she always had the undeniable urge to look behind.
The shake looked a pretty pale green and tasted good. It would keep her going to the end of the day. She listened politely as her personal assistant droned on about the appointments and the meetings for the day. She would be meeting with the lawyer from the firm in Delhi at 1130 hrs.
Finally , a step further.
A strong woman who recklessly throws a5way her strength, she is worse than a weak woman who has never had any strength to throw away.
