Loss

Anger, pain, hurt, frustration, hatred-she had nurtured and harbored those feelings for over ten years now. She had imagined how it would be if she were ever to meet him, what she would say to him, what she would do to him, how she would hurt him. And yet when it came down to seeing him, being in his presence again, just hearing him breathe, the pent up vengeance had been washed away in emotion. Emotions that she did know existed, feelings that she had forgotten about. In her misery and despair, she had forgotten how happy they had been. How joyful, carefree and gay they had been, how much in love they had been.

"A cup of tea, Mila?" her reverie was suddenly broken by his sweet voice. When she did not reply, he caressed her hair gently, pulling it out of her face. To his surprise, she shrunk away from his touch and said quietly,"I need to leave now."

"Are you sure? It would be quite wonderful if you could stay for a cup of tea. I know you like your morning tea and we have quite a lot of conversation to catch up on while sipping it", he said, still in that godforsaken honeyed voice.

But she had to stay strong, she had to protect herself. He had left her. He had deliberately let her believe that he was dead. He had not even cared enough to bid her a proper goodbye. Instead, she had to weep over a charred corpse, she had to organise a fake funeral, she had to pretend to be devastated when all she wanted was revenge. And this man now wanted her to stay for a cup of tea! The audacity, the defiant smile, the pretense of caring for her!

He could understand that she was in shock. And that it was his fault. He knew that he had to make her stay. He knew he had to make her understand. He knew he could not let her down, like he had done so many years ago. "Stay, Mila. Please. We need to discuss this."

Discuss? She thought. The man had the gall to call what he did to her a mere discussion? The rage came back. "Discuss? You think I want to stand here and discuss what you did ? Not only did you leave me, you let me believe you were dead? Have you any idea.."

"Yes I do. I knew that you knew," replied he, with much pain in his voice.

"You what!", she gasped, not believing her own ears. This could not be true. He knew! He knew she was watching, that she was seeing him leave her, betray her, abandon her. He knew. She could not stop herself or her pent up feelings and with all her strength, she slapped him straight in his face.

"I deserved that, I guess " said he, head bowed with shame, tears in his eyes.

"How could you have done this to me, Tom! Did I mean this little to you?"

"On the contrary, my love, you meant too much. You would have never let me go and I was exposing you to more and more danger. And I could not have lived with myself if something had happened to you. I had to go, Mila. And I had to make you believe that I left you."

She just stared at him, unable to believe what she had just heard. No matter what he said or did now, no matter how logical or illogical his explanations sounded, he had left her to mourn his betrayal. He had deliberately let her see, he had deliberately made her hate him, he had deliberately hurt her.
And there was no forgiveness for what he had done.

"I do not care what you say now, Tom. You hurt me. You wounded me. You left me much worse than dead. And I will not have you ruin my life again. So keep your explanation, keep your excuses and keep your concern to yourself." she said rising from the couch, her voice shaking with anger and rage.

He knew then that he could not stop her from going away, he knew then what he had done, he knew then what he had changed. Her, him, them. And nothing would ever be the same again. He had lost the only woman he ever loved. He could only watch as she got up and left, slamming the door leaving nothing but despair in her wake. 

Deception

Panic mounted in her in fits and starts. But her voice remained unnaturally calm when she made that 911 call. "I would like to report a fire. Its a car parked in front of my neighbour's house. 8, Rue du Pasteur, Paris."

Thirty minutes ago, a busy doctor was trying to get her patient to agree to a surgery. That barely took two minutes as the patient only wanted to meet her surgeon in person to assure her. Such assurances people need, she thought to herself and as if to re-affirm that, she receieved a phone call from her friend and neighbour, Mrs. Durand.

"Hello, Mila. I know you are busy but if you don't mind, would you just come and look at my little Tony today? He seems to be a little ill today and its only been two weeks since the surgery."

"Of course, Gina, don't worry, I shall be there in no time, "replied an ever courteous Mila.

It was probably nothing but it never hurt to be too sure. So she finished up her patients for the day, checked if she had a surgery scheduled for the night and satisfied that she didn't, walked to her car. She started the engine and revved her baby up. No matter what Tom said, she would always love her little Punto. It had been her companion for a long time, be it her college trips in and around the French countryside, or the long trip to Italy she had done with her two best friends. It might not have the best fuel economy, or a powerful engine as compared to Tom's sleek BMW 5 series. But what this car had was memories. And she would always be fond of it. It was while driving to Mrs. Durand's house that she had the idea of starting a family with Tom. And she made a mental note to run it by her when she went and checked in on her son.

In less than 15 minutes, she was chez elle and instead of parking in front of her own house, she parked in  Mrs. Durand's garage as it was opposite her own and had much more space anyway. Tom's car was also blocking their driveway and she made a mental note to remind him when he got back from his day trip to Lyon. He must have left in a hurry in the morning with his colleagues so probably did not get time from his early morning gym session to park it in properly. "Men", she sighed, "can't live or without them".
Mrs. Durand opened even before she could ring the doorbell. "Why come on in Mila, I saw you come in from my window, " she beamed.
"Let's look at Tony and then get down to gossiping, shall we?" Mila replied with a bigger smile.
Tony was looked at within ten minutes, fussed over by both ladies and then decided to be left to his toys by the window as the two ladies settled down to gossip over a cup of tea. "Why, you know Gina, I was thinking maybe I should talk to Tom about starting a family. You think he will take it well?"
"Why come on, Mila. He is an angel and loves children himself. Why he is Tony's favourite Uncle, is he not my child?", she replied looking at Tony fondly.

"Yes he is, Mommy. But Mommy,what is that man doing to Uncle Tony's nice car!" Both ladies immediately went to the window and saw two men completely dressed in black heave something big inside Tom's car. The men then poured something over it and to the horror of the two women, lit her up. Both of them could not believe their eyes and as Mrs. Durand rushed for the phone to call the firemen, Mila held her hand. Mila had seen more movement. She could only stare in curiosity and horror as another man came to inspect the car. A man also dressed completely in black. A man whose  every muscle she knew as well as his thoughts. Or mistakenly thought she did. A man called Tom.

Mila's mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions. What had she ever done to deserve this? She knew very well that what the men had put in inside Tom's car was a body and that it was lit up on purpose to obscure evidence. She knew that when the police came, the charred body would be found wearing Tom's clothes, his watch, his shoes. She knew exactly what he wanted; he wanted the world to think he was dead. Even her. In one blow, he became the cold, dark, mysterious stranger whom she met two years ago. A cold, calculated anger rose inside, mingling with her panic.

"This last man is driving away too, with those two other men. Mila, we should call the police quickly, right?", said a frightened Gina, breaking Mila's reverie.

"Gina, let me make the call,"said she. Panic mounted in her in fits and starts. But her voice remained unnaturally calm when she made that 911 call. "I would like to report a fire. Its a car parked in front of my neighbour's house. 8, Rue du Pasteur, Paris."

Home

It is the sights which strike you first-the cafes, the restaurants, the Eiffel, the sounds kick in later-the tolling of bells at the Notre dame, the gushing waters of the fountains, the street musician's mesmerizing chant. And the rain, oh the incessant rain. Washing away the cigarette smoke and the smell of coffee everywhere. As she breathed it all in, she knew that she had finally come to the place she belonged, she had come home.

"Stop grinning like an idiot, Mila. See this is why you should have never gone away," her friend laughed, braking the car and breaking Mila's reverie.
"Sorry, Marie, but you know.." replied a smiling Mila
"Yes I do, " said Marie, with a chuckle. "Now let's get your bags up and have you settled down."

And as soon she had done the needed settling down, she went straight to the Seine and went down to her favourite spot under a tree. It was a hidden place really, right in the midst of the madding crowd and yet away from it. It had been her happy spot. So she was a little annoyed when she found that it was already occupied. Some idiot of a man, smoking a bloody cigarette, with a bloody book in his bloody hand, had beaten her to it. "Guess it wasn't that secret after all," she mumbled and angrily kicked a stone in front of her. The cursed stone rolled and rolled until it stopped at the feet of the man who was in her spot. And he looked up from his book just as she tried turning away. And the book and the cigarette fell. She thought she had seen a ghost for it could not be, not after all these years, not after all these months. And she turned and ran with all the force she had.

She should not have bothered running in fact because he caught up with her pretty soon. And stopped her. "Mila, give me a chance to explain. Please. I had to do what I did. I had no intention of hurting you. And you know that I had no idea that you would be back here. I would never have come if I knew. I do not mean to cause you any pain or harm. Please listen."
But she stayed silent, immobile, not hearing a word of what he was saying. She put out her hand to touch his face but could not bring herself to. It could not be true, she surely was hallucinating. Maybe it was a bad dream and all she needed was to open her eyes. But her eyes were already open. She suddenly found that she could not breathe and the world slipped out of focus. He caught her in his arms as she swooned and fell.

He brought her back to his apartment and laid her gently on the couch. And watched her sleep. A terrible sense of remorse washed over him, He had done this to her, he had caused her pain and suffering, he had hurt her. And that was as unbearable now as it was then. And he knew that ten years apart had done nothing to change the way he felt about her. And that even a lifetime apart would not rectify it.

Dregs

Time passes fast. One minute, you are watching your own life being consumed in flames, the next, you are on a fast plane to Thailand and fighting against an unknown, unseen enemy-organised crime. It had been 10 years since he last saw Mila. And in those 10 years, he had taken one mission after another, faced death many a time and had even established his own section, his own wing here in Bangkok. They called him Phuna which was Thai for leader. And leader he was. He had not only managed to convince HQ that this was a viable option but a sound economic one as well. Gathering the men and the money had not been a simple task but his passion and dedication had destroyed all that got in his way. He had a mission in his life-an ambition and he would stop at no limit to get what he wanted. He was becoming the man he once was, the man he was when he started out. Young and fresh and full of ideas to change the world, a young Tom had pledged his life to serve the country he loved. His zeal and hard work had helped in transforming a newbie to an asset in a very short span of time. Focused and concentrated on his missions, he had become a valuable agent to the Secret Service in no time. And then he had met her and had been on the descent ever since, But now he was back to what he was. In fact, he was better than what he was. He had no weakness, nothing could cause him pain, nothing could cause him suffering. He had become who he had always wanted to be-independent, strong and free.

Time passes fast. One minute, you are watching your lover's life being consumed in flames, the next, you on a fast plane to a humanitarian mission to Africa, fighting against an unknown enemy-disease. It had been 10 years since she last saw Tom. And in those 10 years, she had taken on one patient after another, helped the sick and the needy, helped man, women, children alike. They called her Malaika, which was Swahili for angel. And angel she was. She had not only completed her mission to save an entire village from possible death from a mysterious plague, but she had stayed on and established a hospital for the locals.  She had come a long way from the surgeon she once was, working in a huge hospital, treating patients in a purely professional capacity where her mechanical hands could have performed every surgery without even thinking. But here, in her village, in a remote area of South Africa, she was no longer the cold professional- the villagers had adopted her as one of their own and went to her for all their problems, not all of them medical. She heard their stories, cured the diseases that she could and enjoyed living in the company of such loving and simple people.  But that did not mean that she was  cut off completely from her old life. She travelled back and forth to Cape Town for medicines and supplies and sometimes even attended conferences there organised for surgeons. She was the same person she was before she met him, strong, independent and free.

But no peace lasts forever. Their worlds were to collide once again. A political uprising in Bangkok and a deadly virus in Cape Town was to link their destinies again.