There was something malevolent about him, but Dheena pushed the thought to the back of her mind where she didn’t need to address it just yet. Sitting there in the little roadside café, she might as well have been dreaming. The world flowed by outside, and she felt far removed from the mundane trappings of [...]

The Sundaytimes Sri Lanka

Stolen words

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There was something malevolent about him, but Dheena pushed the thought to the back of her mind where she didn’t need to address it just yet. Sitting there in the little roadside café, she might as well have been dreaming. The world flowed by outside, and she felt far removed from the mundane trappings of life.
“So?” he said leaning over the small round table that barely put an arms distance between them. “What do you say?”
Dheena looked at Ralston doubtfully. It was this earnestness, an unadulterated audacity that both alarmed and stirred her very being. It was alien to her quiet, thoughtful nature.

For a moment she held his gaze.
There is no kindness in those eyes.
The thought flitted across her mind like a meek cloud caught in a high wind. It was fleeting and she paid no heed. Dheena drummed her fingers on the table as she struggled to unwind her inner conflict and suddenly became acutely aware of her own discomfiture. Unconsciously, she was sitting with her legs entwined in a tight bind, her toes curling nervously against the soft padding inside her shoe as if to seek comfort. The words came crawling like shy strangers out of her mouth.
“I… I don’t know, I don’t think I can tell you just yet.” The moment she heard herself, the smile on his lips faded and the light that ignited in his eyes seemed to retreat. She felt regret at once.

He leaned back and watched her thoughtfully.
“Is this how it’s going to be then? How long must I wait? I hope there is a happy end in sight. If not well… it is what it is,” he finished. There was no reproach, no sadness but a simple declaration of reasoning.
It only made Dheena feel worse. He seemed larger than life to her but at the same time, fragile and easily bruised at her hands.
It’s his oversized ego.

Her dismay must have shown of course, it was so easy to read her, she knew.
“It’s ok sweets, I won’t pressure you any further.”
The silence between them seemed to stretch for miles and Dheena cast around for words that might remedy it. Fortunately, diversion came in the form of hot cappuccino and grilled sandwiches.

As she peered into her steaming cup with the froth swirled into the shape of a heart, Dheena was gripped with a sudden impulse…
“I don’t mean to wear you out this way,” the words stumbled out of her mouth.

“The truth is…”
The truth is you can’t quite put your finger on it. You don’t believe him!
“The truth is, I need to be sure, and I need to know that you are too. That is reasonable yes?” It was just short of an entreaty.
He folded his arms and shrugged resignedly, a gossamer smile on his lips. Then a little shake of his head and Dheena felt she had once again trod upon a sore spot.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
Silence.

Hold your ground. This is not a race to the finish line!
Dheena knew how this would end, just as the time before and the time before that. They would eventually talk about all else, no love lost between them. Except her heart would feel leaden, and everything she spoke would seem contrived. She half envied his complete ease. Why could she not be the same? Towing the line had become a tired old game. It held everything joyful at bay.

What was there to lose?
Your heart. Your pride. Your peace of mind. You very essence.
She closed her eyes as a sigh quivered on her lips.
“OK… yes” she heard herself whisper. “I don’t know what’s holding me back, so yes.”
She opened her eyes to meet his gaze now brimming with surprise and wonder. In the next few seconds he threw back his head and covered his eyes in relief, then reached over to wrap his hand tightly over hers.

A laugh escaped her…
At the sight of his gladdened expressions, relief unfolded within her. How could she have doubted him?
Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
The silence that followed this time was one of profoundness. For Dheena the words simply fell short.
“Actually,” she began shyly, “I’ve always wanted a wedding in August. There’s enough time yes?”
His grip on her hand loosened. His eyes flickered ever so slightly. But a valiant smile stayed on.
“Ok then,” she shrugged, “guess you have to do what you have to do.”
He didn’t say he wanted to.

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