“I will drive you to the airport.”
Rohit was staring at the thin skin formed over his cold cup of tea. He looked up, a bit startled.
“I will drive you to the airport.” Puja repeated across the breakfast table.
He nudged the cup a bit further away. “I will take a cab. It is better that way.”
There was silence again. The past two days have been silent. Friday evening they were sitting across this table with barely touched dinner plates between them. He told her about the flight. She was still raging then.



