Chapter 23

 *

Even a few days spent with my sister and her lovely twin daughters weren’t enough to prepare me for what I came to find out the moment I came into work.

Damia had resigned.

It was Sharmini that told me as she came into my office with the stuff I missed out on last week.

“When? How? Why?” I asked, feeling faintly angry, more bewildered, although not entirely surprised.

“Last Thursday, Mr. D,” Sharmini said. She seemed unsure on how to proceed. “She came in, saw her boss, and tendered a 24-hour-notice of resignation. She forfeited her pay.”

“Did she say why?” I said. Of course I knew why. I just wanted to hear it.

“No,” Sharmini shook her head. “She did drop by to see me. But she didn’t say anything. Just hugged me and left.”

I leaned back in my chair. To tell you the truth I wasn’t totally in the mood to go back to work. Now this news has just made it worse. Why else did Damia resign? It was because of me.

***

You resigned. That was all it said in the e-mail I sent her. I sent her the e-mail two hours ago, just as soon as I reached home and stripped down to my undies. It was a typical hot Kuala Lumpur evening, where the sweat just keeps on coming and makes your clothes stick. I was sitting at my balcony, welcoming the breeze that sways fourteen stories up. I had sent that email via my tablet, which now lay on the floor beside my chair. My hands cradled a glass of hot green tea; my third of the evening. Earlier, I had thrown away all the liqour bottles.

I watched the sun say its goodbye over the horizon, and as it went down it bathed the skyscrapers of my beautiful city in gold, indigo and an angry orange. Dusk settled in, and the first inklings of stars tried to peek their way through the skies, vying with the light show on earth below.

Ding; my iPad buzzed with the familiar tone of an incoming e-mail.

I did. It was Damia.

I quickly replied. Why?

Five minutes later, she replied. You know why, Dhani.

Can I call you, Damia?

After another five very long minutes, she replied, Yes.

She picked up on the first ring.

“You didn’t even tell me you left,” was the first thing I said. “You could have at least told me?”

“I didn’t want to, Dhani,” she said. Then there was a long pause from both of us.

“Damia, please.”

But please what? Please come back? Please talk? Please turn the clock back to a year ago so I would know every pitfall, every misstep in order to avoid them?

“I don’t know what to say, Dhani,” Damia said.

“Say you’ll come back to me,” I said.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And why the fuck not?” The words came too quickly for me to stop them. “I’m sorry.”

“Ok.”

More silence. This was turning to be a hateful, awkward conversation.

“Dhani,” she said. “I know I’m not the best human being in the world. I know you think that I’m being selfish and unfair, and you’re probably thinking I’m being a hypocritical about the whole thing. You might even be right. But this… this whatever this is, that has happened the past week or so… It’s not something I can brush aside so lightly.”

“Damia, I am not that person anymore. I am not the fucking Flower Heart anymore and I am not him, that person, because of you.”

“I can’t trust that. I’m sorry. You’ve put everything into question, Dhani. I feel… I feel, used, and I feel so naïve.”

“FUCK THAT!” I screamed into the phone, more in panic than anger. “You KNOW we’ve been nothing but happy until that sonofabitch came along and ruined the party, you fucking KNOW that I love you and you fucking KNOW that you fucking love the fuck out of me too!”

“Please don’t take that tone, and language, with me, Dhani. It hurts,” she said. Again, I regretted everything I said. I took a deep breath and sighed. When I spoke again, I tried hard to control the fear creeping into my voice; because with that fear came anger.

“I am sorry, Damia. I really am. I’m scared. I’m scared this is over. I’m scared you’re going to walk away and leave, and I’d never see you again. I’m scared.”

“Why should you be? You could have better than me. You could have anyone you want, evidently. Why me, Dhani? What is so special about me? Am I not just another trophy, just another notch on your bedpost? I ask you this sincerely: why me, Dhani?”

“Because…” I said, words bouncing around in my skull in rapid succession. “Because you’re… well, you. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart, beautiful. You’re… strong.”

“But that’s just it; I’m not, Dhani. I’m just another girl, who made and makes mistakes. I’m just one girl. And I’m not smart; if I was I wouldn’t be here.”

“Are you saying being with me was a mistake?” I asked.

“I can’t answer that, Dhani. I can’t answer any of your questions right now. I just need.. I just need time. And I would appreciate that you leave me alone.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes,” she said.

“That’s unfair,” I said. “Why couldn’t you forgive me?”

“I have.”

“Then why can’t you come back and we pick up where we left off?”

“Because I can’t. I’m not ready. I’m not sure being with you is the right thing for me to do right now.”

“Damia, I can change. I fucking have changed because of you.”

“Tell me, Dhani,” Damia said, ignoring my statement. “And please be honest. When we were.. going out, did you sleep with any other girls?”

“No,” I lied. There was only that one incident; but I had sworn to myself never to let her, or anyone, for that matter, know and find out.

“Swear to God?”

“Swear to God, I didn’t sleep with anyone,” I said.

She was quiet for a few seconds, then asked, “Did you ever intend to get me to sleep with you?”

“No. I loved you. I wouldn’t do it to you. I loved you.”

“What about all those other girls, Dhani?”

“What about them? I didn’t care for them, like I care for you.”

“That’s what bothers me, Dhani; what about all those other girls? Did you think about their hearts?”

“What?? You don’t know those girls. Those girls weren’t in it for love; they weren’t looking for a relationship. The reason they were out there was to let go, to give in, to -- ”

“To be picked up by the legendary Dhani Ibrahim, is that what you’re saying? Don’t you see, Dhani? Don’t you see this is why I’m finding it difficult to resume our relationship? You spent years being heartless, and you probably don’t even remember the names of the girls you’ve done. You seem to think as girls as toys, as playthings. How am I supposed to be with a man like this? How am I supposed to tell if you’re being genuine or not? That I’m not just another girl?”

“BECAUSE I TOLD YOU I LOVE YOU,” I stressed out.

“But for how long, Dhani? How long, before you get bored, before I’m not enough?”

“That’s an unfair question. What happens tomorrow is anybody’s guess.”

“Then that’s not good enough for me.”

“What? Even you can’t tell what the future holds.”

“But at least I need to have reassurance. And I do not think you can give it to me now.”

Silence. I’ve run out of words and arguments. The more I say, the more, it seems, Damia becomes unconvinced.

“Dhani, I need to be alone for now,” she said, softly. “We both do.”

“This isn’t a break-up, Damia,” I said. “Right?”

There was another pause from Damia.

“Dhani,” she said. “I think it is.”

The phone flew from my hand, hit the wall, and broke into pieces.

*