Shortly thereafter, he called her at her home.
“How dare... ?” Nithya lost her track on opening the door.
“I've come in spite of myself,” he said trying to cross the threshold. “Don't you know you've a magnetic hold on me?”
“Don't you know I've turned deaf to your lies?” she said contemptuously blocking the way. “Know you're up against a wall.”
“Won't I jump over it even if it means my end?” he said pressing his suit. “Anyway I'm half dead with a broken heart.”
“I give a damn,” she said, “be off now.”
“So be it,” he said nonchalantly, “but why damn yourself with a scene at your door? Why not we go in?”
As she moved in vexation, he followed her in excitation.
“You look great my charmy!” he said, taking his seat, “better than ever that is.”
“You know you're not welcome.”
“That's my tragedy.”
“Have the grace to leave now,” she said unrelentingly, “with the good sense never to return.”
“How can you say that to a lover?” he said upping the ante, “yourself looking more desirable than ever before?”
“Leave me alone!” she said in vexation.
“You would agree,” he said assuming a pleading tone, “I deserve to be heard for old times' sake. Oh, how you used to cling on to me.”
“Stop it now,” she said raising her tone.
“I'm only living by your memory,” he said affecting distress, “and suffering on that account.”
“Don't talk rubbish,” she said sneeringly. “Believe me,” he got up and went near her,
“I'm miserable without you in spite of Prema. I'm dying for you.”
“I hate you,” she said drawing herself away, “no, not even that, I don't give a damn for you anymore.”
“I can understand your hurt but I'm repentant and…”
“I think it's time you've left.”
“Why not lend me your ear before you show me the door?”
“What if I don't?”
“I'll knock again,” he said affecting passion, “and yet again.”
“Is it fair?” she said in exasperation.
“All is fair in love,” he said, “haven't you heard it said?”
“Give me time,” she said turning impatient, “and better leave now.”
“Keep it in case you've mislaid it,” he said cockily placing his visiting card on the centre table.
“I tore it up,” she said contemptuously.
“Don't make that mistake now.”
“What if I tear it up again?”
“You won't have my phone number,” he said menacingly, “and if I don't hear from you soon, I'll come back on my own. Who knows, God forbid, I might run right into your hubby and I know you wouldn't want it that way. It's wise to carry on the sly, why, have you forgotten those days?”