“Office Wife” versus “Paper Wife”

LONG DISTANCE MARRIAGE, OFFICE AFFAIR AND DOUBLE GAME

Short Fiction - A Romance

By

VIKRAM KARVE

From My Creative Writing Archives:

Let me pull out from my creative writing archives a love story I wrote more than almost 9 years ago, in the year 2009, which was titled OFFICE WIFE aka I WANT TO MARRY YOUR HUSBAND 

 

It is a lighthearted love story about modern urban marriages and office romances

Do tell me if you like this this peppy romance with twists and turns... 

LONG DISTANCE MARRIAGE, OFFICE AFFAIR AND DOUBLE GAME

Short Fiction Story by Vikram Karve

Dramatis Personae 

Anamika Prem Kumar aka Anu 

Anu’s Husband Prem

Prem’s office colleague Priti

Part 1: “OFFICE WIFE” versus “LONG DISTANCE WIFE” 

“I want to marry your husband.”

“What? Are you mad or something?”

“No. I am not mad. Can’t you see? I am perfectly okay. I want to marry your husband. So I have come to ask you to please let him free…”

“I don’t want to talk to you. Please leave my office.”

“Come on Anu…”

“Anu? How dare you call me Anu. Listen Madam, my name is…”

“Your name is Anamika – Mrs. Anamika Prem Kumar, Senior Project Manager, IT whiz kid, ambitious, ruthless, careerist. I know everything about you. And don’t ‘madam’ me. Just call me Priti – that’s my name – Prem must have told you about me.”

“Priti? I have never heard of you. I don’t know who you are. And my husband Prem has told me nothing about you – he’s never even mentioned your name.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Think about it. I know everything about you but you know nothing about me. You see, your husband Prem tells me everything about you – each and every detail – yes, with me he even shares your intimate secrets – but he does not tell you about me – your darling husband hides his relationship with me from you!”

“Relationship? Intimate secrets? Prem has an intimate relationship with you? What nonsense…”

“Shall I tell you about your honeymoon? I know things only you and Prem should know?”

“Who the hell do you think you are? And why have you barged into my office unannounced?”

“I told you who I am. I am Priti. And hey, I didn’t barge in. I sent you my visiting card, and you called me in, isn’t it? It’s all there on my card, my name, designation, the company I work for. Let’s say I am your husband’s colleague, his work-mate, his teammate, we almost share the same desk...”

Anamika looks at the card, picks up her cell-phone, but before she can dial Priti interrupts her, “You’re calling your husband Prem? Don’t disturb him, Anu. Prem must be sleeping.”

“Sleeping? At eleven in the morning? He should be in office…”

“See, you don’t even know…”

“What?”

“Prem had his wisdom tooth extracted last evening – it was very very painful – Poor Prem – he was in such excruciating agony that I had to sit at his bedside the whole night.”

“You were with him the whole night?”

“Yes, I was with your husband Prem the whole night. First thing in the morning I gave him a sedative and painkiller. Then I drove straight down from Mumbai to Pune to meet you.”

“Are you telling me that you were sleeping with Prem the whole night?”

“No. No. It’s not what you think. We’re not having a physical affair – it’s purely platonic – maybe you can call it an emotional affair – at least till now – but it’s still a love affair – we love each other.”

“Love? How can he love you? I am his wife!”

“Wife? Oh yes, you are his legally wedded wife. But tell me Anu, are you ever there for him when Prem needs you..?”

“Prem needs me…?”

“See, you’re so busy out here in Pune chasing your career dreams that you don’t even know what suffering your husband is going through staying alone in Mumbai.”

“Of course I know. I speak to him on mobile phone every day – and we try and meet on weekends…”

“I know. Prem tells me all about your phone calls – and he also tells me how you bore him sick during your weekend rendezvous with your nauseating mask of fake love. Let me tell you that Prem is fed up of your sugary sweet talk, your pretence, your phony ‘caring and sharing’ act...”

“That’s not true. Prem and me – we spend ‘Quality Time’ together…”

“Ha, Ha –  ‘Quality Time’ indeed – once a week – it’s once a month now isn’t it – since you have started working on weekends to meet your deadlines – and the long gaps when you go globetrotting on your projects. Well you may be having your rare moments of ‘Quality Time’ with Prem, but let me tell you one thing – Prem and I are spending plenty of ‘Quantity Time’ together – in office, in the evenings, we are together almost all the time – and that’s what really matters…”

“Listen Miss Priti – I have tolerated you long enough. I think it is time for you to leave now – I have work to do. And before you go, please listen carefully – I am warning you – you just breakup your relationship with Prem – you better not try to steal my husband from me…”

“Steal your husband? My dear Anu – there is no need for me to steal your husband – he is already mine – it is you who have thrown Prem into my arms – and I am quite happy to have him in my arms – and I am going to hold onto him tightly...”

The woman called Anu gets up, and she says to Priti, “I think it is time for you to go now. Please leave...”

“I will tell Prem to get the papers ready. I think it is best to get this over with as fast as possible,” Priti says.

“Papers? What papers? I am not going to sign any papers. And I am warning you Miss - whatever your name is - you just stay away from my husband. Now just go away. Good Bye!”

“Be reasonable, Anu. We are three persons in this marriage. That’s not good. There should be only two persons in a marriage, not a threesome. You are Prem’s “paper wife” – but I am his “office wife”. In fact, now I am much more than his office wife. Between the two of us I think I am more in tune with him. So I think it is you who will have to leave the threesome. Think about it. Take your time. I am sure you will understand,” Priti says.

Then Priti walks out of Anu’s office.

Part 2: PRITI CALLS UP HER “OFFICE HUSBAND” PREM

Priti does not take the lift.

She deliberately walks down the staircase.

She reflects on her tête-à-tête with Anu.

Priti feels happy and congratulates herself on a job well done.

She returns her visitor’s pass at the reception, walks past the foyer, crosses the road and reaches her car.

The moment Priti sits in her car she calls up her “office husband” Prem in Mumbai from her mobile.

“I spoke to her,” Priti says to Prem, the moment comes on line.

“I know. Anu rang me up just now,” Prem says.

 “What? Your wife rang you up? So fast?”

“You really seem to have really rattled her. Anu is coming down to Mumbai this evening after work. She has taken a week’s leave. She wants to stay with me in Mumbai and talk things over. She was even asking about the pain in my wisdom tooth. She said she wanted to look after me...!”

“Really?”

“Thanks, Priti. I think you have saved my marriage.”

 “Come on Prem. There is no ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ between friends.”

“Yes, Priti, you’re really my true friend, my best friend in the world!”

“Hey, don’t get sentimental. And by the way, if she does not turn up, if she gives you a ditch – if Anu ever dumps you – just remember I am always there for you. But I’m sure she’ll come and everything will work out fine for you two.”

“I hope so.”

“I am sure of it. Anyway now I am going to make myself scarce for a few days and spend some time with my sister in Pune. We’ll meet at the office next week and talk. Bye. Take Care.”

“Bye,” Prem says and he feels a flood of love, a unique kind of affection, a sort of warm gratitude for Priti.

Part 3: ANU AND HER “OFFICE HUSBAND”

Meanwhile, in Pune, Prem’s wife Anu aka Mrs. Anamika Prem Kumar leaves her office.

Anu walks across the corridor and enters the cabin of her “office husband”. 

She enters and closes the door.

“You won’t believe it,” Anu laughs, “My husband Prem is having an affair...!”

“Your husband is having an affair? I cannot believe it...” the man says.

“The female was here. Her name is Priti. She works in my husband Prem’s office in Mumbai. She came here all the way from Mumbai,” Anu says.

Then Anu tells everything to her “office husband”. 

(Well – having “office spouses (“office husband” and “office wife”) is quite a common phenomenon nowadays – especially in long distance marriages. Of course – in Anu’s case – the man is much more than a mere “office husband” – he is her companion, her soul-mate, her paramour, her lover – call him what you like – and yes – there is always a possibility that an “office husband” may become an actual husband...!!!)

The man, Anu’s “office husband”, listens intently, as Anu tells him each and everything that Priti told her about Prem and Priti – and their relationship .

“Just imagine, Anu – you were almost going to tell your husband about us – and you were feeling so guilty that you were cheating on him and having an extramarital affair with me. Now – what are you going to do?” the man asks.

“I am going to Mumbai to meet my husband Prem. I will throw a real tantrum about his affair with Priti – I will create a ruckus, I will tell Prem that he is a cheat – I will accuse him of infidelity, of being disloyal, of betraying me – I will tell him I want a divorce because of his adulterous relationship with Priti. Now – there is no need to tell him about us – there is no need for me to feel guilty. Let Prem think that he alone is fully responsible for our breakup – let him feel guilty – that it is all his fault. Rather than I have a guilty conscience because of our affair – I think it is better that he has the guilty conscience – isn't it?”

“Yes...” the man says, “it is much better that your husband has the guilty conscience.”

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

 

This is an updated version of my story OFFICE WIFE aka I WANT TO MARRY YOUR HUSBAND written by me in July 2009 and first posted in my creative writing short fiction blog at url: https://karvefiction.wordpress.com/2009/07/20/office-wife/ and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/03/infidelity-blog-fiction-story-no-7.html and http://creative.sulekha.com/i-want-to-marry-your-husband_78326_blog etc 

A “Love Trap”

LOVE TRAP
Short Fiction – An Intriguing Romance
By
VIKRAM KARVE

I look at myself in the full-length mirror.

I like what I see.

Yes. 

I am beautiful. 

Very beautiful. 

I am very, very beautiful indeed.

No doubt about it. 

I always was a great beauty. 

They say that a beautiful woman often has a tragic life.

Does tragedy always come from being a great beauty...?

I don’t know whether this is universally true – but certainly – I have had a very tragic life. 

But – I will not tell you too much about it right now and spoil my mood.  

Now – I will look into the mirror and admire myself, my exquisite body.

Not many women close to 40 can stand in front of a mirror with so much pride and assurance. 

I look like a woman in full bloom. 

I admire my perfect body.

I fall in love with my own body. 

Like Narcissus.

Suddenly – I experience a tremor of anxiety – as I see the first signs of the process of ageing. 

Infinitesimal. 

Almost indiscernible. 

But indisputable.

Two small furrows on my forehead.

The slight coarsening of the skin below the eyes.

The almost unnoticeable heaviness of the abdomen with its suggestion of fold.

I can easily cover them up. 

With make-up. 

And – the right dress. 

But – for how long can I wear a “mask”...?

Time is running out for me. 

Sameer is my last chance. 

I am already regretting the lost opportunity – that I had put the matter so lightly the last time we had met – and before that. 

Tonight is my probably my last chance. 

I have to go in for the kill.

Love Trap. 

What a phrase to use.

But that’s exactly what I’m going to do. 

I am going to ensnare Sameer in my “Love Trap” 

And then – I will move in for the kill. 

Like a predator.

For the first time in my life – I will use my beauty to my advantage – not to be taken advantage of – like it happened all these years.

I was just 19 – a fresh graduate wondering what to do in life – when my elder sister Nisha died in childbirth – leaving behind a newborn girl – and a young heartbroken husband, Ashok.

Nisha’s husband Ashok was totally devastated.

So – we – my mother and I – we went to stay with Ashok in Mumbai – to nurse the baby girl – and to help Ashok recover from the tragedy. 

After a few months we named the baby “Smita” – as she was a cheerful smiling baby.

From time to time – especially on weekends – my father – who was still working at that time –he would come over from Pune – and I could see that he was getting quite irritable – having to stay separated from his long-married wife – though he didn’t say it in so many words.

One day Ashok proposed to me. 

Actually – he asked my mother for my hand in marriage.

My mother was overjoyed. 

She put lovingly her hand on my arm – looked into my eyes – and said: 

“Ashok loves you and wants to marry you. He’s still young, only 27. He needs a wife. And – Smita needs a mother.”

“Yes, Smita needs a mother,” I said, tightly holding the baby – wondering what would happen to the small baby if Ashok remarried someone else – who would be a stepmother to Smita – and maybe she may have antagonistic feelings towards her.

My mother spoke to my father. 

He agreed. 

To him – it seemed quite a logical thing to do – and maybe – he was relieved that my mother – his much-married wife would be coming back to live with him.

So – I got married to Ashok.

And – I put on hold all my immediate dreams of higher studies and a career.

How should I describe my marriage...?

No expectations, no disappointments, no role-ambiguity, a cordial relationship, a happy family, a blissful marriage – at least from the outside.

Children...? 

Our children – i.e. Ashok’s and mine. 

It just didn’t happen. 

With Nisha’s death – a little something in him had died. 

He must have loved her very much – too intensely.

I accepted the situation with grace.

I tried to focus on being a good wife and a doting mother. 

As Smita grew older – Ashok encouraged me to study – do my MBA – and start a career.

Ashok was married to his job. 

Things were fine – till one evening Ashok came home looking distraught – and – he broke the news that he had been passed over for promotion.

Ashok was shattered. 

He had worked sincerely, slogged hard.

He given his life for his career. 

And now – he had failed in is career.

He had remained loyal to his company without getting loyalty in return. 

He felt terribly betrayed. 

For Ashok – after Nisha had gone – his career meant everything.

He just couldn't take it – being sidelined in his career – having to work under his erstwhile juniors.

He just could not cope with this setback – so he tried to find solace in alcohol.

Within months he slipped into the abyss of alcoholism.

From a workaholic – he became an alcoholic.

Day by day he became more and more bitter and cynical.

And then – one day – my world disintegrated.

Ashok died in a car accident – while driving home drunk.

I wish he had died in some better way.

So after eight years of marriage – at the age of 27 – I found myself with an 8 year old Smita – the light of my life. 

I was single – but I was not helpless – as I was doing quite well in my career as a bank executive. 

12 years passed.

And now – Smita is 20 – already working in my bank – and doing her MBA in the evenings. 

She is earning while she is learning – and I am so proud of her.

And then – I fell in love – for the first time in my life. 

Let me tell you about it.

I still remember the day Sameer breezed into my office announcing that he would be working with me. 

“Hi, Nalini – I am Sameer – your new Deputy...” he announced superciliously – sitting down and lighting a cigarette.

“Put off that cigarette...!” I shouted, “And don’t you dare come into my office unless I call you.

“Hey, Sweetie – you look red hot sexy when you are angry. My wife is going to be really jealous when I tell her how stunning my boss is...” Sameer said, laughing mischievously.

“She won’t – when you tell her that your boss is a 35 year old widow with a college going daughter...” I retorted in anger. 

And – I stormed out of my office to protest against Sameer’s appointment – for which I had not been consulted.

“Sameer is a genius,” my boss said, “the directors head-hunted him and managed to lure him over from our biggest rival with great difficulty. He’s going to rejuvenate your department…”

I got the message. 

This new man was a threat – and – if I wasn’t careful – it wouldn’t be surprising if he leap-frogged over me – or – even eased me out of my job. 

I walked back to my office.

Sameer was waiting in my office.

“I am sorry Ma’am – I didn’t know the culture was so formal out here. I’ll maintain decorum in future...” Sameer was contrite when I returned.

“It’s okay...” I said – and I began to tell Sameer about our work.

Sameer was extremely intelligent, knowledgeable, supportive, open, sincere, affable and great to work with – but initially – I kept my distance – and I treated him with forced geniality – tinged with wariness.

Gradually – I got to know more about him – and his personal life.

We became close friends only during his painful divorce – the seeds of which seemed to have been sown much earlier – and maybe – that was the reason why he had relocated to Mumbai – to separate from his wife who stayed on in Delhi. 

During those depressing days – I often lent him my shoulder to cry on.

It was inevitable that we fell in love. 

We were lonely buddies with a thirst for life – soul-mates – attracted to each other – “office-spouses” – who now needed to become real spouses.

Normally a man is supposed to make the first move.

So – I waited for Sameer to propose to me – but maybe he was shy – being 7 years my junior. 

Now – I realized that I had waited long enough – for him to propose to me.

Maybe – he too had waited long enough – for me to propose to him.

And – I shuddered to think – suppose I lost him...

Oh My God – it would be so terrible...

I was already 39 years old.

Sameer was my last chance – he was my only love.

Soon – my daughter Smita would get married – and – she would go away – and – I would be all alone.

I did not want to live the rest of my life like a loveless lonely maid – a forlorn spinster – with nothing to look forward to on life.

Yes – time was running out for me. 

Sameer was my last chance. 

I had to act fast. 

Yes – I had to talk to him today.  

I looked at the wall-clock.

7:30 PM.

Sameer would he here any time now to take me out for dinner.

Normally we take Smita out with us too – but tonight – I had insisted that only the two of us – Sameer and me – only we two would go – and surprisingly – Smita did not protest.

I put on the final touches of make-up – then generously dabbed on my favourite perfume.

The door-bell rang. 

“Mummy, Sameer is here...” I heard Smita yelling.

I gave myself a final look in the mirror. 

I looked really gorgeous. 

Yes – I looked truly stunning – dressed to kill. 

I couldn’t have titivated better than this.

“Wow!” Smita said – looking at me with delightful surprise in her eyes, “You look dashing!”

Sameer looked at me – he seemed mesmerized. 

I could see that he was attracted to me.

He desperately tried to stop his eyes from roaming all over my body – especially to those places where it would be considered naughty.

“Hey, what’s with you two...? Aren’t you two going to go out fast and let me enjoy my TV and popcorn...?” Smita teased.

Soon – Sameer and Me – we were driving on Marine Drive towards our favourite restaurant – the best place for an unhurried romantic dinner.

“It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s sit by the sea...” Sameer said spontaneously, slowing down the car.

“I’d love to...” I said.

We sat close to each other on the parapet, facing the placid waters of the Arabian Sea – the lights of the ships in the distance – the twinkling stars in the clear sky above us – the sea breeze blowing in our faces – pure and refreshing.

“I want to say something…” Sameer hesitated.

“Say it...!!!” I urged him.

“I wanted to ask you…” he faltered.

“Then ask me. Please ask me...” I beseeched him.

Sameer looked at me – into my eyes – and he said to me: 

“I want ask your permission to marry Smita. 

We love each other. 

We want to get married. 

I told her to tell you – but Smita said I must ask you. 

Smita said that she will do as you say. 

I promise I will keep your daughter Smita happy…”

Sameer kept on speaking. 

Yes – Sameer kept on speaking – but – his words did not register – as my mind had gone blank.

I could see his lips moving – but I could not hear his words. 

I kept staring at Sameer. 

My mind went blank – as if I had become a Zombie – a living corpse... 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

This is an abridged and revised re-post of my story LOVE TRAP written by me more than 10 years ago in the year 2007 and published in my book COCKTAIL. This story was posted online by me earlier a number of times in my various creative writing blogs at urls: http://creative.sulekha.com/a-beautiful-woman-often-has-a-tragic-life_81543_blog  and  http://creative.sulekha.com/love-trap_73693_blog and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/06/cougar-on-hunt.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/11/setting-love-trap.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/03/blog-fiction-story-no-14-love-entrapment.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/08/love-trap-intriguing-romance.html etc