Free THE ONE YOU CANNOT HAVE by Preeti Shenoy Page A

you have never mentioned before.’
    ‘And so you decided to find out. And read all the mails. How could you, Rishabh? How the hell could you? Don’t you have any concept of privacy? Do I ever go through all your personal stuff? Have I ever once logged into your email account?’
    ‘I too hadn’t, till now. But I want to know who this Aman is and what your relationship with him was.’
    ‘How will that matter? It is over. It was in the past.’
    ‘Have you slept with him?’
    ‘So is this all about that? Why the hell should I answer that?’
    ‘Because it matters to me.’
    ‘What do you want me to do? Give you a performance scorecard? Aman versus Rishabh? Grow up. I told you it was in the past and it is over. I haven’t contacted him since.’
    ‘No? Are you sure? I am not so sure now, after reading all those mails. How do I know you aren’t texting him?’
    ‘God, Rishabh. I cannot believe this. Are you suspecting me? Are you seriously thinking that I am hiding something from you?’
    ‘Heck yes. Till now I didn’t. But now I feel I do not know you any more, Shruti. If you could hide such a huge thing all this while, God knows what else you have been hiding.’
    I do not know what to say to that. In a marriage, trust is the biggest thing between partners. If the trust is gone, the relationship stands on fragile legs. Right now the legs have taken a huge beating. I haven’t yet recovered from the shock that Rishabh has gone through something so darn private, something that he had no right to, and even before I have recovered from that, he has unleashed another arsenal on me—that he suspects my fidelity. I don’t even know how to react. On the one hand, is the hurt. On the other is the guilt of hiding such a big part of my life from him (even though it was over two years back—or am I feeling guilty because deep down I haven’t yet got the closure?). Added to that is anger at his having snooped through my mail. In hindsight, I should have deleted them. Then there would have been ‘no evidence’. But it is too late for that now. Besides I never even thought in my wildest dreams that Rishabh would sink so low.
    ‘Look, Rishabh, firstly, you had no right to snoop. You had no right to read those mails. Secondly, even if you did, how can you suspect me like that?’
    He is silent for a while. I am silent too. I pour myself a glass of water to calm down.
    Then he delivers another blow. ‘I want to read all your text messages right now,’ he says.
    I can scarcely believe what I am hearing.
    ‘My text messages?’ I ask as though I haven’t comprehended.
    ‘Right now, before you get a chance to delete them,’ he says as he stretches out his hand for my phone.
    ‘No,’ I say. This is the limit. How can he even ask to see my phone? How can he not believe me?
    ‘Then you are having an affair. Tell me the truth—didn’t you march out just now and call him?’
    ‘What rubbish are you talking, Rishabh. This is utter nonsense.’ I am angry now and I hurl the phone at him. ‘Here go through my messages, check for yourself,’ I say.
    The phone lands with a soft thud on the futon and I am furious at Rishabh’s attitude. He calmly walks towards the futon and picks up the phone. And before my very eyes, he goes through each and every text message of mine.
    I feel naked. I feel stripped. I feel robbed. I feel violated. I feel like a criminal being paraded to be identified. I cannot believe that the guy I married is treating me like this. He doesn’t believe me and he is checking my phone. I clench my fists as he continues to scroll through each and every message on the Instant Messenger app.
    Rishabh is oblivious to all that I am going through.
    ‘Who is Dev? And why is he sending you jokes?’ he asks.
    Dev is the nerdy guy in accounts who I don’t give a damn about. I get irked with these jokes he sends me every now and then. But I do not want to explain to Rishabh. I am aghast at his behaviour. I am