‘What had brought about the change in you?’ he said, suddenly seized with curiosity.
‘As one can’t drink from an empty glass,’ she said tilting her glass, ‘one can’t love with a lifeless heart.’
‘Won’t you let me see,’ he said, ‘the other half of your glassful now.’
‘Well, it is for my eyes only,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘By the way, why you want to drain it to the dregs?’
‘As I love the taste,’ he persisted nevertheless, ‘won’t I like to know its recipes as well?’
‘Oh, it’s the spice of my heart,’ she said, as she winked at him, ‘flavored by the Cupid.’
‘Oh,’ he said, giving up his probing. ‘You’re a hard nut to crack.’
‘Come on,’ she said, extending her hand to him, ‘let’s have dinner.’
‘I haven’t space,’ he said, feeling his tummy, ‘even for a morsel.’
‘In that case,’ she said drinking to the dregs, ‘why should I cook?’
‘What about your dinner?’
‘I’ll manage with the leftovers,’ she said. ‘Moreover, I’m too tipsy to light the stove even. I wonder how you can drink like a fish, and yet remain steady!’
‘Isn’t it the best compliment ever from you,’ he smiled heartily.
‘Pay back then,’ she held her glass, ‘with a peg at least.’
‘You’re game, anyway,’ he said, obliging her.
‘But with those,’ she said in a drawling way, remembering her lover’s averment, ‘who raise the bar.’
‘In time, you may beat me at my own game.’ he said in awe; as she gulped half from the glass at one go.
‘Wait and see,’ she winked at him.
‘I’ve always felt,’ he said holding her hand, ‘I could have won your love had I agreed that night.’
‘Why rake up the past now,’ she smiled. ‘Are we not happy anyway?’
‘I know that, but still,’ he said melancholically, ‘we wouldn’t have lost what we lost in those three years.’
‘Let bygones be bygones,’ she said dreamily.
‘You don’t know how I crave for your love,’ he said ruefully. ‘You’ve never really known me, in spite of everything.’
‘Well, I was beside myself then,’ she said. ‘But I value your love now.’
‘Now,’ he suggested in hope, ‘why not you study medicine.’
‘It’s too late, anyway,’ she said resignedly. ‘But that night I was desperate. Your consent could have made our life heavenly. And that’s the reality.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Any way, that’s life,’ she said, ‘full of ifs and buts, isn’t it?’
‘Can you ever pardon me?’
‘I think all of us,’ she said, taking his hand, ‘in spite of our faults, are pardonable.’