PART III

AND one day, not long after, she did see him at the Bourda market. He was helping two indigenous women with baskets of fruits and vegetables.
“Hey,” he said with a happy smile.
“Hi,” she responded with a nervous smile, though within her she was delighted to see him.
“I have been wondering if I would see you again.”

She shook her head slightly to give him a little warning, saying in a low tone, “I’m not alone.”
That was when he noticed the two bodyguards not far behind her and realising she couldn’t talk to him, he stepped away a little so the two women he was assisting were now standing next to her as she did her shopping. They told her what he wanted her to know.
“We are his aunts in charge of a charity for Indigenous people in the city.”
“That’s nice!” she expressed.

“And whenever Stephan is in town he always takes us around shopping.”

“That’s wonderful,” Anuradha said, glancing at him with a warm smile, “Someone with a selfless nature.”
He nodded with a casual smile to say ‘Thank you’ as they continued their shopping at different sections in the market. She heard a little more of his life in his home of Region Nine, the rivers, creeks and waterfalls he knew like the back of his hand.
“Can you ask him how he knew I wrote the message he found in the river?”
“He had seen you a few times at the beach when he passed with one of his boats,” his aunt related to her, “And had been drawn to you sitting there so lonely.”

Anuradha glanced at him again, wondering what new game fate was playing with her. Anyone could have found those messages and not known they were written by her, but he did.
She tried to focus on choosing some avocado to buy when one of his aunts said, “He thinks you are very beautiful and he loves your smile.”

Her hand paused on the heap of avocado and she looked up directly at him, her heart beating with that new intense feeling that should have made her happy but instead, a stalking fear from years of living under strict rules shadowed that beautiful feeling.
She said to his aunt, “Tell him thank you for his compliments but those words will just be a part of my dream. I have to go now.”
That night after dinner, her husband came to the upper balcony where she usually sat in the ambience of the night sky and after a long, tense moment he asked in a low, deep voice,
“Who were the strange people in your company at the market today?”
She answered calmly knowing he would’ve gotten that report, “Two indigenous women from a charitable organisation.”
“And the young man?”
“Their relative, I think.”
“The same fella at Canal No. 1?”
She took a brief moment before answering and could have said ‘No’ but a lie she knew would not be a good thing for her.
“Yes,” she answered quietly.

He looked at her for a long, unnerving moment then got up and holding her on the shoulders, his hands digging into her flesh, he said with a sharp edge in his voice,
“I hope I don’t hear about him again.”
She sat there for a long while after he left, looking up at the peaceful sky in silent grief.
Weeks passed and several days she went down to the beach, hoping to be able to send a message to Stephan not to talk to her again, but she did not see him. Then one day she heard a soft hum and looking up she saw his boat not too far off in the water. She wrote the message in the tree bark and threw it in the water, knowing he would be able to retrieve it, and she walked back slowly to the mansion.

Life went on as months passed and a new year began. She saw Stephan on a few occasions but he kept his distance from her as she requested.
“One day, maybe,” was all she said in her mind, not wishing, but just hoping something could change in her life.
But the change that came was unexpected and shocking.

For the past few months her husband had made several trips overseas, more than he usually did, he changed his diet, his tone was less sharp and he looked a little pale.
Though there was no love from her in that relationship, she had spent 10 years of her life with him and she began to feel worried. She asked several times, noting the changes in his heath.
“Is something wrong with you?”
His answer was always, “No, I’m fine.”

Whatever it was he did not want her to know, but when his son and daughter from his previous marriage visited him, it increased her worry. They greeted her with open contempt.
“Well, well, we finally got to meet the young wife.”
Anuradha said nothing, just smiled cordially, knowing that whatever was wrong with their father they would most likely blame her for it, and they did – accusing her of wanting to inherit his wealth.

One week after they left, her husband called her one night in his study and said,
“I have something important to tell you.”
She sat and waited, hoping it was not something bad.
“I know,” he began, “that you have never been happy, forced through desperation to accept my marriage proposal to save your family. That selfless nature is something unique that I love about you. I love your simplicity and quiet demeanour, but I put you through a lot of grief with my obsessive behaviour and forced you to live under my rules.”

He paused, took a few deep breaths then continued, “It took this sickness for me to reflect on life and I realised how much I have been hurting you.”
He paused again to drink some water and she could see the regret in his eyes.
“Anuradha,” he said in a quiet tone, “I am sorry for all the hurt and pain I have caused you, and I hope you can forgive me so when I depart this life, I can go on in peace. This cancer is killing me, I don’t have much time.”

A silence heavy with emotion hung over the room as she sat there, tears streaming down her face. He was crying silently too, and after a long while he wiped his face and said in a hoarse voice, “You can go now.”
She couldn’t sleep nor could she stop crying, feeling deep pity for the man who had taken away everything from her, but who was big enough to apologise to her, and being the compassionate person she was, she accepted his apology.

He left the world on a cold, December morning and she felt true grief in her heart, not trying to stop the tears as she followed the funeral procession to the cremation site, a thin black veil over her face.
One month later, sitting in the lawyer’s office with her late husband’s son and daughter for the reading of his will, Anuradha was left stunned.
He had left his entire estate to her and just two small portions of his wealth to his children.
“Unbelievable,” was her thought.

On her way home across the Demerara River, she looked at the flowing water and sighed deeply. Eleven years ago she had crossed that river as a poor, young bride. Today she was crossing again as a rich, young widow.
A new chapter in her life.
The design of fate.