Gaurav slid an omelet into a plate and placed it in front of his captive.

Curiously, since the time she had come up from her room, she had kept her eyes lowered. Even her body language hinted at being uncomfortable around him.

Was this the same woman who had been talking to him for the past one week?

He found it strange. He wondered if this was another act or part of her plan.

If it was, he somehow wasn’t enraged or offended by the fact.

“Don’t you like it, Mrs. Bhupati,” he asked.

Her eyes flew up to his face. She looked at him for a couple of seconds before lowering her eyes once again. He could see the color of her cheeks and ears redden slightly.

Interesting.

“It’s very good,” she murmured. “You are a good cook. Do let me know if you need my help in preparing the meals.”

Once again, Gaurav found it strange listening to her voice while watching her in person.

In his mind, her voice had become an identity of its own. That was Nina for him. The moment he heard her voice as she spoke to him through the walls, everything within him calmed. He felt peaceful during those moments, despite everything happening in his life.

He felt close and connected to that voice.

And since that voice belonged to the person in front of him, it was difficult to hate her or feel anger towards her.

“Help me wash and clean up after,” he said in answer.

She nodded.

She helped him clean up after lunch and dinner as well.

 

TWO DAYS LATER, when GAURAV opened the door to her room, Nina Bhupati had a determined look.

“I’ll make the breakfast this morning,” she said.

It took him a while to process what he heard as he was busy staring at her. With the sun rising behind her, she looked breathtaking.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well. Because I just hang around doing nothing while you cook meals for the three of us.”

“Do you know cooking?” he asked.

There was a pause. No. But I’ve watched you cook yesterday,” she said. “It didn’t seem very hard. And I’m a quick learner.”

She was looking at him expectantly.

“Okay,” he answered.

It was easier said than done, because Gaurav realized Nina Bhupati was a terrible cook.

An hour later, she scraped the half-burnt portion of the scrambled eggs into three plates. The remaining eggs in the pan were completely charred.

The bread was also toasted until it was dark brown, a shade less than burnt. As he bit into it, it almost disintegrated into powder. It tasted like ash.

He poured the lemon juice she had made into a glass to help him wash down the meal. At the first sip, he controlled the wince on his face as he tasted the bitterness.

And when she took a sip, she grimaced and ran to the kitchen sink where she spit it out.

“God, that’s terrible. How could you drink that? And we can’t give this to Khan. I’m so sorry,” she said, looking dejected.

“It’s okay,” he said.

She continued to look dejected.

“It’s not bad for a first time cook,” he said. “It could have been worse. The wooden cabin could have caught fire.”

She laughed, but still looked miserable. “Please, teach me how to cook,” she said.

He was about to take their plates and head to the kitchen sink, but paused. “Why?”

“Because I want to cook sometimes, too. It’s a basic skill and I’m ashamed that I never learnt it before. Either I was too poor to have afforded a proper kitchen or even the time to cook. Or I was too rich to be expected to cook. In the last ten years, each time I entered the kitchen, the cooks hovered around me anxiously. So I never learnt.”

Silence ensued.

Until then she had only spoken about her childhood. This was the first time she was telling him something about her life as Suraj Bhupati’s wife.

 Gaurav wasn’t sure if he wanted to listen to that part.

She didn’t say anything else.

“Please, can you teach me?” she asked.

He looked at her hopeful face. “I’m not that great a cook myself. But I can show you to make some simple dishes,” he said.

She smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said, getting up from the chair to stand close to him near the cooking stove.

He threw away the burnt eggs and toast into the trash and put fresh bread into the toaster. He turned on the stove to make a fresh batch of eggs.

“Help me with the juice,” he said. “But first, throw away the seeds.”

That day, upon her insistence, he showed her not only how to make a simple breakfast, but also to make other meals, too.

Part of his brain knew it was beyond fucked up that he was teaching the woman he had kidnapped, how to cook. But he refused to dwell on it too much.

 

ANOTHER WEEK PASSED since Khan had fallen sick. Even though Khan had recovered, Gaurav insisted that Khan take rest from doing any of the chores.

Which meant Gaurav had to spend more time with Nina Bhupati.

Each morning, he opened the lock to her door after which she helped in cooking breakfast and other meals. Khan joined them during some of the meals, the rest of the time he ate in his room.

Gaurav didn’t know what came over him, but one day he asked whether Nina wanted to go out for a walk.

“Can we walk around the lake?” she asked with anticipation in her eyes.

Gaurav knew it was risky and stupid for him to have made the offer to go for a walk. Because once they were out in the open forest, his captive might try to escape.

But each time he had seen her look out of the kitchen window longingly, he felt an ache in his chest.

“Yes, let’s go,” he said.

After breakfast, he took her near the lake.

“God, this feels so wonderful,” she said, breathing in the cool and crisp air of the forest.

For the rest of the week, Gaurav continued to take Nina for a walk. Mostly around the lake. But sometimes in the forest too. And during that time, they didn’t talk to each other. However, the quiet time they spent together enjoying the nature was something he began looking forward to.

He felt that because he couldn’t let her out of her captivity until the end of his mission, he would try his best to not make her feel too trapped.

Gaurav knew his reasoning was skewed.

Because, no matter how comfortable he tried to make her, at the end of the day, she was still his captive, and he, her captor.

But he did wonder if that was the only way she viewed him as well.

Because, sometimes, while they cooked, he caught her having a strange look in her eyes as she watched him. She looked curious.

He also felt her eyes on him each time he returned from his bath in the lake, or joined her for walks, or when they had their meals together.

Something inside him hoped she didn’t view him as a complete monster and that he had some redeemable qualities. Because he wanted her to continue with her tales.

Each night, he lay on the bed, he waited for a long time, hoping she would talk or say something about her life. But she never did.