The Second Wife

The cold air is snaking into the porch as I gaze at the shadows cast by the street lamps, fused with the occasional buzzing of the vehicles. I resolve to sit with the latte and wait for the rays to kiss the plants, returning their iridescent hues and ushering in the new day.


‘I will be home by sunrise, dear,’ his words echo in my ears while I linger for him.




The sky was grey like a curtain of silk with dangling stars. Tufty white clouds were drifting past us. The sea was buzzing with its dormant strength. Slumbering in its black-blue robe, the sea greeted us and the half-moon of the beach softly. The waves were gently drenching our feet.


We were strolling on the sand which felt like walking on a carpet of candy floss, such was its softness; hand in hand. It was a gateway to paradise.


Our serenity was interrupted by him suddenly checking his watch and mumbling, “It’s time.” I looked at him incredulously. He grabbed me in the middle of the night, and took me to a ride on the beach. There were nothing but crickets between us until he had said that it was time.


He knelt before me and looked at me with his unfathomable eyes, took my hand into his, “You know that I am married, right?” He paused. “Dare I ask you to be my second wife? I might crave for her more in the nights than I would crave for you. I might spend more time with her than I would with you. I might even neglect you sometimes. I might not be able to make it home some nights.”


The cold breeze from the sea swept in on us. “I promise, I promise that even when I am with her, I will think of you. Even in times of neglect, a part of me will always be around you. I promise to love you now and when your face is full of wrinkles, without any second thought. I promise to take your hand in your health and your sickness. Will you marry me?”


The rising sun laminated us with its warmth. The sun rays were finding their way to touch me through the ripples of the water. The crisp air was rustling through my hair. He was aware of my love for the mornings, that’s the reason why he chose the beach at that very time of the day to propose to me. Tears welled up in my eyes.


“Yes, yes. I would love to be your second wife,” I replied.


I knew that he was committed to his writings. He married his passion first and was willing to marry me next. Marrying him would only make me eternal for I would live in his writings each day.




I patiently wait for his little navigating to end, sipping my latte because in the end he is mine.


~ Pranavi Muvva | Edited by Afreen Zeb


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