Episode 73
So when I went to the ostentatiously decorated bedroom on wedding night, my heart was thudding against my rib cage. I was nervous. My mouth was dry with fear. And my friends and cousins, who were coming along to drop me to the door, weren't making things easy. Comments like, don't worry man, I am sure you will make her shriek like a banshee, just follow your instincts, make her beg for more, easy on those big boobs, etc.
I finally entered the room and shut the door behind me. Maybe it's all the movies and books, but I was expecting her to be sitting demurely on the bed, with her pallu pulled over her face. Instead, she was lying down on the rose petal covered bed, one leg folded up in the knee, checking her phone. When I walked in, she gave me a polite smile, the kind an air hostess gives you when you step onto the plane. And then went back to looking at her phone. I felt less like her husband and more like an intruder. Regardless, I forged ahead. Sitting on the bed, I asked her,
"Kem chho....how are you?"
What a stupid question to ask.
"Fine. A little tired." she said, not taking her eyes off the phone.
"Yeah, I am also tired."
"It is exhausting standing so much, smiling for all those people, and bending down and touching feet of so many relatives."
"Very true." I said. And then had no idea what to say.
She took her eyes off the phone and looked at me with an inert expression. I did the same. It looked at the clock on the wall.
"It is past midnight." I said.
"Yes, it is."
"If you are tired and all, you should sleep." I had no idea why I said that. I had been insanely waiting for this moment my whole life. My first sexual experience. And I had just offered to postpone it.
"Are you sure?" she arched her eyebrows.
"Yeah...I am tired too." I said.
A few moments later, the room was dark, and I was on my back staring at the ceiling and cursing myself. Apara had turned over on her left side and was facing away from me. What the hell was going on? For the first time in my life, I had an actual woman with me in bed. One who was legally married to me. One who was supposed to be my sexual partner. And I was just there next to her like some idiot? What must she be thinking?
Well, she is experienced. Maybe she will make the first move, I thought, optimistically. Twenty minutes later, no such luck. In fact I could hear from the sound of her breathing that she was asleep. Ten more minutes passed. Then I felt some movement. She rolled over on her right side and was now facing me. But her eyes were still closed. And she was still sleeping. By now, my eyes had gotten used to the darkness. And I was excited to note that as she had rolled over, her sari's pallu had fallen away. Right there, a few inches from my eyes, was her ample chest, covered by her embroidered blouse.
I stared at it in wonderment. She really did have big breasts. I could make out their shape straining against the fabric. It was a conventional wedding blouse, so there was no cleavage on display. But just whatever I was seeing was enticing enough to make my dick respond. Should I touch one, I thought. Of course, she is my wife now. It's my right. But she is sleeping. So what? It is her duty to make you happy. I debated like this with myself for a while, my erection growing by the minute. Finally I decided to do it.
My hand was trembling as I raised it and placed it on her left breast. Soft but also a little firm, I thought to myself. Her breathing changed and her eyes opened. For a second, I thought like she wanted to pull away. Maybe she didn't instantly recognize me. We were practically strangers in a dark room. But she probably resisted the impulse. I thought I saw the edges of her lips widen a little, as if she was smiling. She looked into my eyes. I looked into hers. My hand was still on her breast. She hadn't moved it away. So I felt a little more confident. Putting pressure with my fingers, I pressed her boob. Again, soft and firm.
Isn't she supposed to also do something, I thought. In the porn movies I had seen, women were very enthusiastic. I knew traditional Indian women aren't like this, but she was supposed to be different. But she didn't move. It was up to me. I kept pressing that breast for a few more seconds. Then I felt the other one and pressed it too. My erection was now the hardest it had ever been.
And then suddenly, something came over me. Maybe it was millennia of male instinct hard-wired into my DNA. Maybe it was my horniness pent up for three and a half decades. Maybe it was lust. But I found my limbs moving on their own. I sat up and pushed her over on her back. I reached behind her blouse to open it. It had a zipper. I pulled it down.
"Take it off." I said in a hoarse voice. She complied.
Now her breasts were covered only by a red bra. And I now saw her cleavage. It looked even better than I had imagined it. Because her breasts were bigger than I had imagined them. And so perfect. I ran a finger down her cleavage and with the other hand reached behind her. I had never unhooked a bra before. So it took me almost a minute to figure out exactly how it worked. I thought she chuckled a little at my struggles. But didn't help me. Finally I got it open and pulled the bra off her shoulders.
Oh wow! Look at those boobs! They are so perfect. Those nipples....wow! Oh man, I am actually looking at real naked breasts. Of my wife. I can touch them skin to skin now. I am going to do that. Yes, I am going to do that. I have done that. This feels so amazing. Wait....what's happening down there? No no no! Not already! Wait!!!
A few minutes before I was being led to the bedroom, one of my oldest friends, who was married, pulled me aside.
"Hitu....go to the bathroom and jack off first."
"What???"
"I am serious. Do it."
"Are you insane? I just got married. I am going for my...."
"Yes yes, I know what you are going for. That's why I am telling you. This is the first time you will be with a naked woman. Trust me, you don't want to.....you know....premature ejaculation?"
"Shut up! I don't have that problem. When I am watching porn....."
"Porn is different. That's just visual stuff. This is going to be a three dimensional warm body. Naked. Trust me. Drain the snake."
"You're crazy." I laughed and walked away.
That had been almost an hour before.
Now his words made sense. Apara seemed a bit confused when I suddenly stopped my frantic attack on her breasts and rolled off the bed.
"What happened?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"I just....I mean....I have to....I'll be right back."
I ran to the bathroom, with an uncomfortable mess in my underwear.
When I got back a few minutes later after cleaning up, I saw that Apara was still topless. But had fallen asleep. Her naked breasts rose and fell with each breath. She looked so pretty to me at that moment. I was tempted to resume where I had left off. But I felt guilty and also a little ashamed. This is the sort of stuff that is supposed to happen to 18 year olds, not a grown-up like me. How was I to know my body would react this way?
I got back in bed and laid down on my side, watching her face and her heaving breasts. Better get used to this, I told myself. Let's not repeat this again. And I fell asleep while watching her boobs.
So that was how my first ever sexual experience with my wife unfolded. And it left me feeling even more anxious than I already was. That was the wedding night, which was THE socially sanctioned night we had alone. And I had made a mess of it, literally. When I woke up in the morning, Apara was already dressed in different clothes. That day, my friends and cousins cornered me to ask me about details. I didn't want to tell them the truth. So I just played coy and hinted that it had been great.
We didn't get an opportunity to spend a night alone together after that for a few days. We had only a few days until we left for the US. Now that she was married to me, she spent those days at our house. But it was a relatively small house. We didn't get much privacy, because a lot of relatives who had come for the wedding had stayed behind to spend more time in Ahmedabad. So we had 4-5 people sleeping in each room, and there was no chance of any sexual activity.
When we flew to the US, we spent the first week at her uncle's house. It was a nice house, but not as big or spacious as I had expected. Plus they had kids and family members of their own. There simply weren't enough rooms. And after all, you must remember that she was their niece, not daughter. Apara and I slept on a pull-out couch in the living room that week. So obviously, there was no privacy to get too intimate.
Anyway, in that first week, there was too much going on work-wise to think too much about all this. As soon as we landed in the US, Uncle started treating me more like a business associate than a son-in-law. There had been no actual honeymoon, but the honeymoon was already over. He took us to the motel, and started explaining how all the systems worked, what different aspects of business I had to take care of, what the competition was, and so on. It was like a week-long crash course in motel management. I had to meet the old owners and learn all the details. Apara was by my side through all this, but it felt more like we were business partners than husband and wife.
We would wake up early, she would drive us to the motel. Then we would spend all day there, learning the ropes, working out the formalities, observing the operations, and so on. Until late night when we would return to uncle's house exhausted, crash on the pull-out couch and fall asleep right away.
The real transition happened when the old owners finally did the formal handover. Uncle now owned the restaurant. And Apara and I were the managers. The old owners were also a Gujarati couple from our caste that was retiring and going to live with their son in New Jersey. They had owned and also run the place for over twenty years. As a result, they happily left us all the furniture they had in the manager's apartment.
My first tinge of disappointment was with how small that manager's apartment was. The way it had been described initially, I thought it would be a proper sized apartment, with one or two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, etc. Instead it was basically a big hotel room converted into an apartment. There was a bedroom and separated by an artificial wall, there was a small kitchen. And a single small bathroom with a tub-shower and a toilet in the same space. The whole thing was less than 500 square feet. It was close to the reception area and a small office. Because its main purpose was for the manager to constantly be accessible at reception.
People often wonder why we Gujaratis dominate the motel business in America. The biggest reason is that we are one of the few communities who are willing to put in so much hard work for such small amount of money, just to make it America. Most motels are very simple. There are a bunch of rooms. There is no restaurant or kitchen or anything like in hotels in India. The staff is very minimal. Customers check in, go to the room, spend the night, and leave. Most customers are people driving from one city to another and stopping over. Or visiting budget tourists or professionals looking for the cheapest room.
So basically, a hard-working couple living on the premises can manage the whole thing with very little extra help. All you need to do is have someone at the reception, clean the rooms, and put out a very simple free continental breakfast of bread, muffins, corn flakes, sausages and boiled eggs. And some coffee. With a husband and wife working on the hotel, a lot of these duties are taken care of. With each of us capable of working 16 hours a day, most of the reception and accounting related shifts in a 24 hour day are taken care of. You hire someone at minimum wage for the extra shift. You hire one or two maids for the extra cleaning. And that's it. Very low operating costs and overheads, which means higher margins.
The more I learned about how everything worked, the more I realized what a cunningly smart deal Uncle had made by hiring us. He was paying us $35,000 a year. Apara and I were both working pretty much every waking hour in one way or another - either sitting at the reception or managing employees or housekeeping or accounting or breakfast or whatever. So about 16 hours a day. We got just one day off each, and that too not at the same time.
Let's calculate then. 16 hours each from the two of us, for 6 days a week, for about 48 weeks a year (we were allowed 4 weeks of vacation). Texas minimum wage is $7.25, so even at that minimum wage, it comes to almost $67,000. And that's minimum wage. We were doing manager type work. Even with the free tiny apartment we were getting, the $35,000 salary was a steal for Uncle, who kept all the profits. In one way, I admired his business savvy. But I also felt resentful that I was being exploited this way. It was still too early to negotiate a pay hike though.
So anyway.....we moved into the hotel, took charge. Worked insane hours. That was when Apara started asserting her managerial abilities. We had retained most of the employees from the earlier owners. And they were all Mexican immigrants with very limited English skills. Uncle told me that if you want to hire someone fluent in both languages, you have to pay them more. So she was best equipped to talk to them, check on them, and so on.
The first day as managers was predictably hectic. After spending 16 hours at the reception, I was relieved by a night clerk, and I headed to our apartment, exhausted. Apara was still in the laundry room. By the time she came back, I was asleep. The next night, it was the opposite. After I made my way back after doing some inventory, she was asleep.
It was only on the third night that we were together and awake. It was past midnight. I was sitting on the bed, going over some old accounting records. She walked in, tired but also very pretty in a salwar kameez.
"I'm going to change." she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. It had been a hot day.
I nodded and watched as she headed to the closet and took out a t-shirt and pyjamas. She stopped a second and looked at me. Then looked at the bathroom door. I could see what she was thinking. We were husband and wife. But we were also like new acquaintances. Should she just change in front of me or go to the bathroom? She took a couple of steps towards the bathroom.
"You can change here if you want." I said. "I will look away if you feel shy."
"Hehe, you don't have to look away. We are married, after all." she said giggling.
She paused. Then walked towards the bed close to me and kept the clothes on it. Then looking at me with a half smile, she pulled off her kameez. This time the light was on, and I got to see her glorious bra-covered breasts and cleavage again. She then untied the knot on her salwar. I inhaled audibly as it dropped to the floor, revealing her smooth legs and her black panties. My dick started coming to life as I watched my busty wife's body the most exposed yet. And I admired how great it looked. She was slightly plump, but the curves were in all the right places.
She just stood there in her bra and panties for a few seconds, as if expecting something. I was just ogling her, thanking my stars for landing such a hot wife.
And then, that animal instinct took hold again. Without realizing, I jumped off the bed and lunged at her, my erection forming a tent in my pants. It was such a rush of adrenaline and testosterone that the memories of what happened next are a little hazy. But here's what I remember. I took her in my embrace, and she didn't resist. I vaguely remember struggling to unhook her bra again. It took a couple of months until I was able to do it instantly. I played with her boobs for a while, with my hands and my mouth.
Then I pushed her on the bed and started taking my clothes off. I still remember the mostly amused look on her face as she watched me hurriedly undress, laid there naked except for her panties. I got completely naked and jumped on the bed next to her. My hand reached for her panties and grabbed the waistband.
"Ready?" I heard myself ask.
She nodded and smiled.
And I yanked. She pushed her legs together and raised them to allow me to slip the panties off and get her completely naked. I paused for a second as I noticed that her pussy was completely shaved, like in porn movies. Randomly I wondered how often she shaved it. But only for a nanosecond. The animal in me had taken over. I grabbed her knees and parted them. Then getting on top of her, I thrust my hard dick at her vagina. It didn't go in right away. There were a few misses. I had to take one hand off her knee and guide it in.
And it happened. The first time I felt the warm wet embrace of a woman's cunt around my cock. I sighed and so did she as the penetration took place.
I'd like to tell you that it was an epic and steamy experience that replayed many positions recommended by the kama sutra. But it wasn't. I mean, of course, it felt great. But it didn't last too long. I had been so busy with all the motel work and the transition that I hadn't even masturbated in over a week. So it took maybe 45 seconds of thrusting and before I knew it, my dam burst. And my semen flooded her insides.
She looked a little surprised at how quickly I came. But didn't say anything, and soon her face wore the usual inert expression. I stayed hunched over her, my dick contracting inside her, staring at her huge tits. Our faces were just a few feet away. Instinctively, I bent down to kiss her. Our first kiss. She realized a little too late what I was trying to do, so initially, just our teeth met. Then she puckered her lips. I kissed her as best as I could for a few seconds.
Then I jumped off the bed. Looked back at her. She was still on her back in all her naked glory, my jizz between her legs. I somehow felt like I owed her an explanation. So I started yammering.
"It's just....you know....first time. And all this work. Plus the heat. And you are....so very pretty. And warm. I mean....hot. Next time....it'll last longer. Yes. Definitely."
I stopped that stream of weird phrases and turned around to go to the bathroom.
"Ok." that's all she said.
As I got settled into married life and time went by, the sex got better too. With each experience I was learning newer things, trying newer things, and also lasting longer. But somehow, it always seemed to me like Apara was just going through the motions. She never seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was. Her face usually had that same neutral expression as always, not the looks of ecstasy or delight you see in porn. And that kept my self-doubt and nervousness about sex going. I was worried I wasn't satisfying her the way I should. And with that strange night in room 106, I was wondering if she was seeking that satisfaction elsewhere. Especially because although in the initial days, she was always ready if I initiated sex, in recent months she had often started giving excuses like headache or exhaustion or cramps.
Of course, maybe she really was just exhausted. Running the motel was a very demanding full time job. And the nature of the work meant we spent a lot of time away from each other even within the same motel building. I would mainly be spending time at the front desk and the attached hotel while she was in the back taking care of the rooms, laundry, or cooking for us. We rarely had lunch or dinner at the same time. While I ate, she sat at the front desk, and vice versa. And most of our conversations and interactions were about the motel. There was very little personal bonding happening. We were less like a married couple emotionally attached to each other, and more like business associates who lived in the same apartment and occasionally had sex.
So now that I have laid out the background picture, you can understand why I was so bothered by the suspicions that had arisen.
That morning, by the time I got ready and headed out to the reception area, Apara was busy setting up the simple breakfast. I had hoped to talk to Pepe but he had already left. Besides, even if he had been there, it's not like I could have asked him much, given our language barrier. I helped Apara set the breakfast up and then sat at the front desk for my shift. I got the feeling that Apara was avoiding eye contact with me even more than usual. Soon she left for the laundry and housekeeping work and I was left by myself at the desk.
It was a slow morning and we didn't have many reservations. So I had a lot of free time to think. I started wondering if I was just over-reacting. Maybe there was no reason to be paranoid. After all, if she wanted to be with some other men, why would she choose to marry me? It's not like I was rich or handsome or anything. So what about the events of that night? Well, I was sure there were possible explanations for them. As I thought some more, I came up with a convincing story.
I knew that I snored. Maybe that night, the snoring was really bad, so she went to the other room even before the AC malfunctioned. And when I joined her, she did not want to hurt my feelings by complaining about snoring. So that's why there were inconsistencies. And maybe Pepe really did think she was in the laundry room. So on and so forth. I calmed myself down with these rationalizations.
Some time passed. A few days and then weeks. That night's paranoia pretty much became history. But it was still lingering at the back of my mind in some ways. Now I was extra observant of her interactions with male employees or guests. She was still chatty, friendly, even flirty. But nothing excessive. Life went on.
And then the second incident happened, bringing all the paranoia back.
It was the evening shift and I was at the front desk. Apara had gone to the wholesale store to pick up supplies for the motel. The store was a couple of towns away, so these trips usually took her a couple of hours. I was sitting in my chair in front of the computer, working on the accounting while side by side listening to old Hindi songs. Across me was a small seating area with a couple of couches and a TV that we usually kept tuned to one of the local channels. So I was glancing at it once in a while as well.
One particular glance at the TV grabbed my attention. It was the local news broadcast. They were reporting about some local political election, and there was a reporter in a mall, live, walking around asking people's opinions about that election. That in itself was not remarkable. What grabbed my attention was one particular interview in which, in the background, I spotted Apara! She was wearing a bright orange kurta with jeans that day, and the unique color made it very eye-catching. What was she doing at the mall? She was supposed to be at the wholesale store. Not only was she at the mall, she was sitting at a coffee shop. And at the same table with her was a white man in his fifties that I did not recognize.
That interview clip lasted maybe 30 seconds. Apara was about 50 feet behind the reporter and did not seem to have noticed the TV camera or had chosen to ignore it. What I saw in those 30 seconds was unusual enough to make me feel suspicious again. For most of the time, she was laughing and nodding, with a very happy expression on her face. the kind of expression I rarely saw on her face in my presence. Her hands were wrapped around a coffee mug. And the man sitting with her was smiling, leaning in and whispering something in her ear. Definitely not the kind of behavior you would expect from just two strangers or even acquaintances in a coffee shop.
Furious, I called Apara's cellphone right away. It went to voicemail. I called again. Voicemail again.
I sat at the desk, my heart pounding and my mind in chaos again. What had I just seen? My wife was.....on a date? And with whom? Who was that man? Why was she laughing that way? Why was she there at all? So many questions. No answers.
My phone started ringing. It was Apara. I reached for it, with half a mind to yell at her.
"Hey, you called? I am driving. Anything urgent?"
My words were stuck in my throat. I had no idea what exactly to say.
"Umm....no..just checking if you picked up........eggs."
"We still have enough left for a week."
"Oh.....okay."
"Was that it?"
"No...." I said.
"What else?"
"Umm....where are you?"
"I told you, I'm driving."
I had listened carefully. When someone is talking on hands free or blue tooth, you can sense it from the way their voice sounds a little distant. But it did not seem to be the case. Besides, if that news report really was live like they said, there was no chance she had left the coffee shop and gotten in her car this soon. I knew that mall. It takes a while to go the garage and get to your car. So she was clearly lying.
"Okay. I will see you soon."
"Bye."
And she hung up.
I had no choice but to wait for her to get back. And worry about the implications of what I had seen. Who was that man? Was he her....boyfriend? Were those socks from that night his? Had he been in that room before I arrived? In the meanwhile, there was also a flurry of guests checking in and that kept me busy.
Finally I saw Apara pull up in the car. She was alone. One of the maids came out to help her carry all the supplies inside. As they walked past the lobby, my wife didn't even look at me or say hi hello. And there was no smile or laughter. That same old inert expression.
"Apara! Stop! Do you mind explaining to me why you lied to me? And why you were having coffee and laughing with some random white guy? That's right, I know all about it. How do I know about it? It was on fucking TV, that's how! Your philandering is on the news now. This is the kind of characterless woman you are?"
I screamed out all this. But in my mind, not to her. I have never been great at confrontations. Besides, there were guests in the lobby and the maid was with her. I did not want to make a scene. Even if no one had been around, I doubt I would have yelled at her like that. It just isn't my nature. So I sat there grumbling silently and trying to decide how exactly to broach the subject later at night after my shift ended.
This whole thing was complicated and troubling enough as it is. Soon it got worse. Who should walk in the door, but the very man I had seen with her on TV.
"Howdy!" he said, flashing me a wide smile. "I'd like a room please."
I stared at the guy. Like many white men in Texas, he was an imposing presence. Well over six feet tall, broad chested, muscular, wearing a tight t-shirt, and jeans. He towered over me as he put his elbows on the desk and played with his keys.
There was a mix of confusion and anger in my head. How dare he just show up here like this? Was this something Apara had asked him to do? Check into the hotel so they could spend time together?
"Well?" he said after I was silent for a long time.
"Sorry....no rooms. We are sold out."
That seemed to surprise him. He stepped back and looked out of the glass door.
"Your parking lot is half empty!" he said in an annoyed voice.
"Yes, but we are sold out." I said.
"Jesus fucking Christ man! Are you kidding me?" he raised his voice.
And I was a little scared. But I kept my cool and said to him.
"There is a Travelodge down the road. They should have rooms."
"Let me speak to your manager!" he thundered.
"I am the manager." I calmly said.
There was rage on his face as he glowered at me.
"Fine. Fuck you, asshole!" he said and stormed out.
It seemed like a minor victory. Sending this man packing instead of giving him a room in my own hotel to make a move on my own wife. But obviously, I knew the problem went much deeper. There was nothing to stop him from really checking into another hotel and then asking Apara to join him there.
And sure enough, fifteen minutes later, Apara came to the front desk.
"How many rooms left?" she casually asked me.
"About half of them." I said, also casually.
"So we are not sold out?"
"No, why would you say that?"
I looked at her pretty but expressionless face. I could read the signs of come confusion and doubt. Did she know that I knew? Would confirming what had happened not confirm that this guy was her lover? How would she treat this? Well, as I discovered then and later many times, Apara was a cunning and expert liar with the ability to think quickly.
"The maid said she overheard you turn a customer away because we are sold out."
What a skillful lie. This way she could get the information she needed without confessing anything. Now I had a choice. Do I confront her with what I had seen or not? For some reason, I decided to play along with her lie, and figure things out later. So I responded with my own lie. Something she could not confirm or reject.
"Oh right, that. Well, it was this big burly guy. I didn't get a good vibe from him. Seemed like a criminal or something."
"So you just turn a customer away for that flimsy reason?" she sounded annoyed.
"It's not a flimsy reason. It is a very genuine thing your Uncle taught me. Many times we will get unsavory or criminal guests. the smart thing is to just send them away. If they check in and do something dastardly, we will be on the hook."
She just glared at me and walked away.
After that I waited to see if she would make some excuse to leave the hotel again and meet up with her lover. But it didn't happen. Guests kept streaming in and checking out, so it was a busy shift. In the middle though, I kept thinking about what I should do next. I was confused. In the past when I had any major issues in life, I always relied on the advice of friends. But all the way out here in Texas, I had no friends. No one to talk to.
I felt sad. Maybe I should call up one of my friends in India. But I looked at the time and it was too early in the morning. And that's when I remembered Amit. My childhood friend and former business partner from our gym venture. He had followed the same path as me, but a few years before. Married a Gujarati woman from America and moved. He was in the retail business and lived in New Jersey. He was not able to attend the wedding. We had talked in short a couple of times on the phone since I came to the US, but no long conversations had happened. He was busy and so was I. But on this, he was the only one I could reach out to.
"Hitubhai! How are you?" he said in a delighted voice when I called.
"Hi Amit. I'm good. Are you...busy with something?"
"No, nothing major. Just watching TV with the kids. What's up?"
"I am in the middle of a problem, my friend. I need to talk to you about it."
"Haha, what happened? Immigration folks giving you trouble over your green card?" he said.
"No man, I am serious. It's a big crisis."
"Shit, sounds serious. Okay, let me step away from the kids and then tell me."
For the next fifteen minutes or so, I told him the entire story. From how the marriage was arranged to the night in room 106 to this recent incident. He listened carefully, asking a few questions along the way. Finally when I got done, he said,
"So sorry you are in this situation, Hitu. Sounds like a nightmare. I am sure you are very conflicted and stressed. I am glad you called me."
"Yeah, I really needed to talk to a close friend." I said looking around to make sure Apara wasn't there.
"Okay....here is what I think. All these facts are troubling for sure. But as a third party and your friend, let me tell you not to jump to any conclusions."
"How can I not jump to conclusions after what happened today???"
"Relax. Listen. Maybe.....bhabhi just stopped for a coffee. This guy started talking to her. You said she is very friendly and chatty anyway. So they chatted. Maybe he was in town visiting. She told him she manages a motel and recommended it to him. And then finished her coffee and came home. And that's why he came to your motel."
"Possible. But...."
"Yes, I know. It doesn't look good. Similarly for the other night, there can be other explanations. All I am saying is, don't be hasty in judging facts."
"Okay."
"Be calm. Let's see what happens." Amit assured me. "Now....hopefully it is just a misunderstanding. No issues. What we have to talk about is.....what if your suspicions are correct?"
"You mean if she really is a lying cheating slut?"
"Yes. What then?"
"Do you even have to ask? I will kick her out. Divorce her. Shame her!" I said angrily.
"You are being emotional, Hitesh." Amit calmly said.
"Well, shouldn't I be if my wife is doing such things?"
"Calm down. I am on your side. All I am saying is....listen. She is a citizen. You married her. You got a green card, right?"
"Yeah...."
"So you have been married what, less than a year?
"Yes."
"So it's what is called a conditional green card for a few years."
"Yes."
"So if tomorrow you discover she is a slut, kick her out, get a divorce. There goes your green card and your chance at a citizenship."
"What? Really?" I had not thought about this at all.
"Of course. Are you ready for that? Everyone in our community knows you have moved to America, gotten into the hotel business. If you return suddenly, people will talk. Everyone will find out. Is that what you want. To return home divorced and humiliated?"
He had a point.
"No."
"That's why I am telling you, think a little. Let's say she is being unfaithful to you. You confront her. Things get nasty. You get divorced. Bye bye, America. Instead just sit tight for a couple of years. Once you get citizenship, it can't be taken away. Then you can do whatever you want."
"Hmmm....but that means putting up with this for 2 more years?"
"That's the price you will have to pay unfortunately, yes. Again, only if it is true. We don't know that yet."
"I see what you mean."
"First things first. Try to confirm if she really is being unfaithful. Try to get proof if possible. It will help down the line with divorce negotiations."
"How do I get proof?"
"Try to get pictures or videos. Maybe get one of the employees to talk. Are you friendly with them? How about that Pepe guy? Maybe he knows something if he tried to send you in the wrong direction."
"Not really. They mostly speak Spanish. And Apara is friendly with them all. My interaction with them is limited."
"Try to befriend one of them. Maybe when one of them leaves or quits, hire someone you can trust."
"Hmmm."
"This is a serious matter, Hitesh, but you need to be careful. And plan properly."
"Yes."
"Of course, hopefully it is all a misunderstanding."
"Hopefully."
And we said our goodbyes after that. Talking to Amit gave me a little patience and courage. And he was right. I needed to confirm all this first. And not be hasty in confrontation, if I wanted my green card and citizenship.
Taking Amit's advice, I decided to make a plan about how to confirm my suspicions. Maybe even get proof. First I had to figure out, if she was doing things like this, who was she doing it with? She had to have a boyfriend or something. Or was it more complicated than that? Multiple guys? Guys who worked for us? Guests? Others?
I decided to take a systematic approach to solving this mystery. I took a diary and in that, listed all the men that she would come in regular contact with. Apart from Pepe, the others who occasionally filled in as desk clerks were all female. The maids were also obviously female. We had one guy who worked part time as a janitor. He came in 2-3 days a week to do cleaning and other stuff that was too physically demanding. His name was Pablo and he was in his fifties, a little slow, and fat. I somehow didn't think that was the kind of guy Apara would choose if she wanted to cheat. I had never seen her be too chatty or flirty with him either.
A likelier option were one of the other transient guys who kept dropping by for a variety of reasons. They were all young, fit, and sturdy men. Things in the motel kept breaking or malfunctioning a lot. So we had plumbers, electricians, other handymen who we would call. I didn't know their names, but knew them by sight. And I had often seen Apara laughing with them, having long chats. I had also noticed they had a roving eye, and would check out Apara shamelessly even if I was around.
And of course, there were the guests. We had a few regulars who stayed with us every other week or so. It could easily be one of them.
The next question was, if she did fool around with any of these men, when did she do it? And for that she had a lot of opportunities. Although we worked very hard and almost every waking hour, we weren't together much. And it was a big motel with a wide layout. At any given time, she could be anywhere, and in any room. And there was no way for me to know unless I dropped whatever I was doing and went hunting for her. Occasionally, she would have to go shopping. The last time, she had appeared on TV chatting with a strangers. Maybe that was an opportunity. Then there were times I had to leave the motel for a few hours on similar chores. That would give her a free run of the entire motel.
And of course, there was sleeping time. That night of room 106 was an exception when we were both sleeping in our apartment. That happened maybe 2-3 days a week. Most days, one of us took the night shift, while the other slept. Given how soundly I slept, I was sure that she could be doing anything when it was her night shift, and I wouldn't know. Or even when I had the night shift and slept in the day time, she could be up to anything.
The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like sleeping time was the best option for her to fool around, which meant it was the best time for me to confirm my suspicions.
So it started. Operation Catch Apara.
I finally entered the room and shut the door behind me. Maybe it's all the movies and books, but I was expecting her to be sitting demurely on the bed, with her pallu pulled over her face. Instead, she was lying down on the rose petal covered bed, one leg folded up in the knee, checking her phone. When I walked in, she gave me a polite smile, the kind an air hostess gives you when you step onto the plane. And then went back to looking at her phone. I felt less like her husband and more like an intruder. Regardless, I forged ahead. Sitting on the bed, I asked her,
"Kem chho....how are you?"
What a stupid question to ask.
"Fine. A little tired." she said, not taking her eyes off the phone.
"Yeah, I am also tired."
"It is exhausting standing so much, smiling for all those people, and bending down and touching feet of so many relatives."
"Very true." I said. And then had no idea what to say.
She took her eyes off the phone and looked at me with an inert expression. I did the same. It looked at the clock on the wall.
"It is past midnight." I said.
"Yes, it is."
"If you are tired and all, you should sleep." I had no idea why I said that. I had been insanely waiting for this moment my whole life. My first sexual experience. And I had just offered to postpone it.
"Are you sure?" she arched her eyebrows.
"Yeah...I am tired too." I said.
A few moments later, the room was dark, and I was on my back staring at the ceiling and cursing myself. Apara had turned over on her left side and was facing away from me. What the hell was going on? For the first time in my life, I had an actual woman with me in bed. One who was legally married to me. One who was supposed to be my sexual partner. And I was just there next to her like some idiot? What must she be thinking?
Well, she is experienced. Maybe she will make the first move, I thought, optimistically. Twenty minutes later, no such luck. In fact I could hear from the sound of her breathing that she was asleep. Ten more minutes passed. Then I felt some movement. She rolled over on her right side and was now facing me. But her eyes were still closed. And she was still sleeping. By now, my eyes had gotten used to the darkness. And I was excited to note that as she had rolled over, her sari's pallu had fallen away. Right there, a few inches from my eyes, was her ample chest, covered by her embroidered blouse.
I stared at it in wonderment. She really did have big breasts. I could make out their shape straining against the fabric. It was a conventional wedding blouse, so there was no cleavage on display. But just whatever I was seeing was enticing enough to make my dick respond. Should I touch one, I thought. Of course, she is my wife now. It's my right. But she is sleeping. So what? It is her duty to make you happy. I debated like this with myself for a while, my erection growing by the minute. Finally I decided to do it.
My hand was trembling as I raised it and placed it on her left breast. Soft but also a little firm, I thought to myself. Her breathing changed and her eyes opened. For a second, I thought like she wanted to pull away. Maybe she didn't instantly recognize me. We were practically strangers in a dark room. But she probably resisted the impulse. I thought I saw the edges of her lips widen a little, as if she was smiling. She looked into my eyes. I looked into hers. My hand was still on her breast. She hadn't moved it away. So I felt a little more confident. Putting pressure with my fingers, I pressed her boob. Again, soft and firm.
Isn't she supposed to also do something, I thought. In the porn movies I had seen, women were very enthusiastic. I knew traditional Indian women aren't like this, but she was supposed to be different. But she didn't move. It was up to me. I kept pressing that breast for a few more seconds. Then I felt the other one and pressed it too. My erection was now the hardest it had ever been.
And then suddenly, something came over me. Maybe it was millennia of male instinct hard-wired into my DNA. Maybe it was my horniness pent up for three and a half decades. Maybe it was lust. But I found my limbs moving on their own. I sat up and pushed her over on her back. I reached behind her blouse to open it. It had a zipper. I pulled it down.
"Take it off." I said in a hoarse voice. She complied.
Now her breasts were covered only by a red bra. And I now saw her cleavage. It looked even better than I had imagined it. Because her breasts were bigger than I had imagined them. And so perfect. I ran a finger down her cleavage and with the other hand reached behind her. I had never unhooked a bra before. So it took me almost a minute to figure out exactly how it worked. I thought she chuckled a little at my struggles. But didn't help me. Finally I got it open and pulled the bra off her shoulders.
Oh wow! Look at those boobs! They are so perfect. Those nipples....wow! Oh man, I am actually looking at real naked breasts. Of my wife. I can touch them skin to skin now. I am going to do that. Yes, I am going to do that. I have done that. This feels so amazing. Wait....what's happening down there? No no no! Not already! Wait!!!
A few minutes before I was being led to the bedroom, one of my oldest friends, who was married, pulled me aside.
"Hitu....go to the bathroom and jack off first."
"What???"
"I am serious. Do it."
"Are you insane? I just got married. I am going for my...."
"Yes yes, I know what you are going for. That's why I am telling you. This is the first time you will be with a naked woman. Trust me, you don't want to.....you know....premature ejaculation?"
"Shut up! I don't have that problem. When I am watching porn....."
"Porn is different. That's just visual stuff. This is going to be a three dimensional warm body. Naked. Trust me. Drain the snake."
"You're crazy." I laughed and walked away.
That had been almost an hour before.
Now his words made sense. Apara seemed a bit confused when I suddenly stopped my frantic attack on her breasts and rolled off the bed.
"What happened?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"I just....I mean....I have to....I'll be right back."
I ran to the bathroom, with an uncomfortable mess in my underwear.
When I got back a few minutes later after cleaning up, I saw that Apara was still topless. But had fallen asleep. Her naked breasts rose and fell with each breath. She looked so pretty to me at that moment. I was tempted to resume where I had left off. But I felt guilty and also a little ashamed. This is the sort of stuff that is supposed to happen to 18 year olds, not a grown-up like me. How was I to know my body would react this way?
I got back in bed and laid down on my side, watching her face and her heaving breasts. Better get used to this, I told myself. Let's not repeat this again. And I fell asleep while watching her boobs.
So that was how my first ever sexual experience with my wife unfolded. And it left me feeling even more anxious than I already was. That was the wedding night, which was THE socially sanctioned night we had alone. And I had made a mess of it, literally. When I woke up in the morning, Apara was already dressed in different clothes. That day, my friends and cousins cornered me to ask me about details. I didn't want to tell them the truth. So I just played coy and hinted that it had been great.
We didn't get an opportunity to spend a night alone together after that for a few days. We had only a few days until we left for the US. Now that she was married to me, she spent those days at our house. But it was a relatively small house. We didn't get much privacy, because a lot of relatives who had come for the wedding had stayed behind to spend more time in Ahmedabad. So we had 4-5 people sleeping in each room, and there was no chance of any sexual activity.
When we flew to the US, we spent the first week at her uncle's house. It was a nice house, but not as big or spacious as I had expected. Plus they had kids and family members of their own. There simply weren't enough rooms. And after all, you must remember that she was their niece, not daughter. Apara and I slept on a pull-out couch in the living room that week. So obviously, there was no privacy to get too intimate.
Anyway, in that first week, there was too much going on work-wise to think too much about all this. As soon as we landed in the US, Uncle started treating me more like a business associate than a son-in-law. There had been no actual honeymoon, but the honeymoon was already over. He took us to the motel, and started explaining how all the systems worked, what different aspects of business I had to take care of, what the competition was, and so on. It was like a week-long crash course in motel management. I had to meet the old owners and learn all the details. Apara was by my side through all this, but it felt more like we were business partners than husband and wife.
We would wake up early, she would drive us to the motel. Then we would spend all day there, learning the ropes, working out the formalities, observing the operations, and so on. Until late night when we would return to uncle's house exhausted, crash on the pull-out couch and fall asleep right away.
The real transition happened when the old owners finally did the formal handover. Uncle now owned the restaurant. And Apara and I were the managers. The old owners were also a Gujarati couple from our caste that was retiring and going to live with their son in New Jersey. They had owned and also run the place for over twenty years. As a result, they happily left us all the furniture they had in the manager's apartment.
My first tinge of disappointment was with how small that manager's apartment was. The way it had been described initially, I thought it would be a proper sized apartment, with one or two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, etc. Instead it was basically a big hotel room converted into an apartment. There was a bedroom and separated by an artificial wall, there was a small kitchen. And a single small bathroom with a tub-shower and a toilet in the same space. The whole thing was less than 500 square feet. It was close to the reception area and a small office. Because its main purpose was for the manager to constantly be accessible at reception.
People often wonder why we Gujaratis dominate the motel business in America. The biggest reason is that we are one of the few communities who are willing to put in so much hard work for such small amount of money, just to make it America. Most motels are very simple. There are a bunch of rooms. There is no restaurant or kitchen or anything like in hotels in India. The staff is very minimal. Customers check in, go to the room, spend the night, and leave. Most customers are people driving from one city to another and stopping over. Or visiting budget tourists or professionals looking for the cheapest room.
So basically, a hard-working couple living on the premises can manage the whole thing with very little extra help. All you need to do is have someone at the reception, clean the rooms, and put out a very simple free continental breakfast of bread, muffins, corn flakes, sausages and boiled eggs. And some coffee. With a husband and wife working on the hotel, a lot of these duties are taken care of. With each of us capable of working 16 hours a day, most of the reception and accounting related shifts in a 24 hour day are taken care of. You hire someone at minimum wage for the extra shift. You hire one or two maids for the extra cleaning. And that's it. Very low operating costs and overheads, which means higher margins.
The more I learned about how everything worked, the more I realized what a cunningly smart deal Uncle had made by hiring us. He was paying us $35,000 a year. Apara and I were both working pretty much every waking hour in one way or another - either sitting at the reception or managing employees or housekeeping or accounting or breakfast or whatever. So about 16 hours a day. We got just one day off each, and that too not at the same time.
Let's calculate then. 16 hours each from the two of us, for 6 days a week, for about 48 weeks a year (we were allowed 4 weeks of vacation). Texas minimum wage is $7.25, so even at that minimum wage, it comes to almost $67,000. And that's minimum wage. We were doing manager type work. Even with the free tiny apartment we were getting, the $35,000 salary was a steal for Uncle, who kept all the profits. In one way, I admired his business savvy. But I also felt resentful that I was being exploited this way. It was still too early to negotiate a pay hike though.
So anyway.....we moved into the hotel, took charge. Worked insane hours. That was when Apara started asserting her managerial abilities. We had retained most of the employees from the earlier owners. And they were all Mexican immigrants with very limited English skills. Uncle told me that if you want to hire someone fluent in both languages, you have to pay them more. So she was best equipped to talk to them, check on them, and so on.
The first day as managers was predictably hectic. After spending 16 hours at the reception, I was relieved by a night clerk, and I headed to our apartment, exhausted. Apara was still in the laundry room. By the time she came back, I was asleep. The next night, it was the opposite. After I made my way back after doing some inventory, she was asleep.
It was only on the third night that we were together and awake. It was past midnight. I was sitting on the bed, going over some old accounting records. She walked in, tired but also very pretty in a salwar kameez.
"I'm going to change." she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. It had been a hot day.
I nodded and watched as she headed to the closet and took out a t-shirt and pyjamas. She stopped a second and looked at me. Then looked at the bathroom door. I could see what she was thinking. We were husband and wife. But we were also like new acquaintances. Should she just change in front of me or go to the bathroom? She took a couple of steps towards the bathroom.
"You can change here if you want." I said. "I will look away if you feel shy."
"Hehe, you don't have to look away. We are married, after all." she said giggling.
She paused. Then walked towards the bed close to me and kept the clothes on it. Then looking at me with a half smile, she pulled off her kameez. This time the light was on, and I got to see her glorious bra-covered breasts and cleavage again. She then untied the knot on her salwar. I inhaled audibly as it dropped to the floor, revealing her smooth legs and her black panties. My dick started coming to life as I watched my busty wife's body the most exposed yet. And I admired how great it looked. She was slightly plump, but the curves were in all the right places.
She just stood there in her bra and panties for a few seconds, as if expecting something. I was just ogling her, thanking my stars for landing such a hot wife.
And then, that animal instinct took hold again. Without realizing, I jumped off the bed and lunged at her, my erection forming a tent in my pants. It was such a rush of adrenaline and testosterone that the memories of what happened next are a little hazy. But here's what I remember. I took her in my embrace, and she didn't resist. I vaguely remember struggling to unhook her bra again. It took a couple of months until I was able to do it instantly. I played with her boobs for a while, with my hands and my mouth.
Then I pushed her on the bed and started taking my clothes off. I still remember the mostly amused look on her face as she watched me hurriedly undress, laid there naked except for her panties. I got completely naked and jumped on the bed next to her. My hand reached for her panties and grabbed the waistband.
"Ready?" I heard myself ask.
She nodded and smiled.
And I yanked. She pushed her legs together and raised them to allow me to slip the panties off and get her completely naked. I paused for a second as I noticed that her pussy was completely shaved, like in porn movies. Randomly I wondered how often she shaved it. But only for a nanosecond. The animal in me had taken over. I grabbed her knees and parted them. Then getting on top of her, I thrust my hard dick at her vagina. It didn't go in right away. There were a few misses. I had to take one hand off her knee and guide it in.
And it happened. The first time I felt the warm wet embrace of a woman's cunt around my cock. I sighed and so did she as the penetration took place.
I'd like to tell you that it was an epic and steamy experience that replayed many positions recommended by the kama sutra. But it wasn't. I mean, of course, it felt great. But it didn't last too long. I had been so busy with all the motel work and the transition that I hadn't even masturbated in over a week. So it took maybe 45 seconds of thrusting and before I knew it, my dam burst. And my semen flooded her insides.
She looked a little surprised at how quickly I came. But didn't say anything, and soon her face wore the usual inert expression. I stayed hunched over her, my dick contracting inside her, staring at her huge tits. Our faces were just a few feet away. Instinctively, I bent down to kiss her. Our first kiss. She realized a little too late what I was trying to do, so initially, just our teeth met. Then she puckered her lips. I kissed her as best as I could for a few seconds.
Then I jumped off the bed. Looked back at her. She was still on her back in all her naked glory, my jizz between her legs. I somehow felt like I owed her an explanation. So I started yammering.
"It's just....you know....first time. And all this work. Plus the heat. And you are....so very pretty. And warm. I mean....hot. Next time....it'll last longer. Yes. Definitely."
I stopped that stream of weird phrases and turned around to go to the bathroom.
"Ok." that's all she said.
As I got settled into married life and time went by, the sex got better too. With each experience I was learning newer things, trying newer things, and also lasting longer. But somehow, it always seemed to me like Apara was just going through the motions. She never seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was. Her face usually had that same neutral expression as always, not the looks of ecstasy or delight you see in porn. And that kept my self-doubt and nervousness about sex going. I was worried I wasn't satisfying her the way I should. And with that strange night in room 106, I was wondering if she was seeking that satisfaction elsewhere. Especially because although in the initial days, she was always ready if I initiated sex, in recent months she had often started giving excuses like headache or exhaustion or cramps.
Of course, maybe she really was just exhausted. Running the motel was a very demanding full time job. And the nature of the work meant we spent a lot of time away from each other even within the same motel building. I would mainly be spending time at the front desk and the attached hotel while she was in the back taking care of the rooms, laundry, or cooking for us. We rarely had lunch or dinner at the same time. While I ate, she sat at the front desk, and vice versa. And most of our conversations and interactions were about the motel. There was very little personal bonding happening. We were less like a married couple emotionally attached to each other, and more like business associates who lived in the same apartment and occasionally had sex.
So now that I have laid out the background picture, you can understand why I was so bothered by the suspicions that had arisen.
That morning, by the time I got ready and headed out to the reception area, Apara was busy setting up the simple breakfast. I had hoped to talk to Pepe but he had already left. Besides, even if he had been there, it's not like I could have asked him much, given our language barrier. I helped Apara set the breakfast up and then sat at the front desk for my shift. I got the feeling that Apara was avoiding eye contact with me even more than usual. Soon she left for the laundry and housekeeping work and I was left by myself at the desk.
It was a slow morning and we didn't have many reservations. So I had a lot of free time to think. I started wondering if I was just over-reacting. Maybe there was no reason to be paranoid. After all, if she wanted to be with some other men, why would she choose to marry me? It's not like I was rich or handsome or anything. So what about the events of that night? Well, I was sure there were possible explanations for them. As I thought some more, I came up with a convincing story.
I knew that I snored. Maybe that night, the snoring was really bad, so she went to the other room even before the AC malfunctioned. And when I joined her, she did not want to hurt my feelings by complaining about snoring. So that's why there were inconsistencies. And maybe Pepe really did think she was in the laundry room. So on and so forth. I calmed myself down with these rationalizations.
Some time passed. A few days and then weeks. That night's paranoia pretty much became history. But it was still lingering at the back of my mind in some ways. Now I was extra observant of her interactions with male employees or guests. She was still chatty, friendly, even flirty. But nothing excessive. Life went on.
And then the second incident happened, bringing all the paranoia back.
It was the evening shift and I was at the front desk. Apara had gone to the wholesale store to pick up supplies for the motel. The store was a couple of towns away, so these trips usually took her a couple of hours. I was sitting in my chair in front of the computer, working on the accounting while side by side listening to old Hindi songs. Across me was a small seating area with a couple of couches and a TV that we usually kept tuned to one of the local channels. So I was glancing at it once in a while as well.
One particular glance at the TV grabbed my attention. It was the local news broadcast. They were reporting about some local political election, and there was a reporter in a mall, live, walking around asking people's opinions about that election. That in itself was not remarkable. What grabbed my attention was one particular interview in which, in the background, I spotted Apara! She was wearing a bright orange kurta with jeans that day, and the unique color made it very eye-catching. What was she doing at the mall? She was supposed to be at the wholesale store. Not only was she at the mall, she was sitting at a coffee shop. And at the same table with her was a white man in his fifties that I did not recognize.
That interview clip lasted maybe 30 seconds. Apara was about 50 feet behind the reporter and did not seem to have noticed the TV camera or had chosen to ignore it. What I saw in those 30 seconds was unusual enough to make me feel suspicious again. For most of the time, she was laughing and nodding, with a very happy expression on her face. the kind of expression I rarely saw on her face in my presence. Her hands were wrapped around a coffee mug. And the man sitting with her was smiling, leaning in and whispering something in her ear. Definitely not the kind of behavior you would expect from just two strangers or even acquaintances in a coffee shop.
Furious, I called Apara's cellphone right away. It went to voicemail. I called again. Voicemail again.
I sat at the desk, my heart pounding and my mind in chaos again. What had I just seen? My wife was.....on a date? And with whom? Who was that man? Why was she laughing that way? Why was she there at all? So many questions. No answers.
My phone started ringing. It was Apara. I reached for it, with half a mind to yell at her.
"Hey, you called? I am driving. Anything urgent?"
My words were stuck in my throat. I had no idea what exactly to say.
"Umm....no..just checking if you picked up........eggs."
"We still have enough left for a week."
"Oh.....okay."
"Was that it?"
"No...." I said.
"What else?"
"Umm....where are you?"
"I told you, I'm driving."
I had listened carefully. When someone is talking on hands free or blue tooth, you can sense it from the way their voice sounds a little distant. But it did not seem to be the case. Besides, if that news report really was live like they said, there was no chance she had left the coffee shop and gotten in her car this soon. I knew that mall. It takes a while to go the garage and get to your car. So she was clearly lying.
"Okay. I will see you soon."
"Bye."
And she hung up.
I had no choice but to wait for her to get back. And worry about the implications of what I had seen. Who was that man? Was he her....boyfriend? Were those socks from that night his? Had he been in that room before I arrived? In the meanwhile, there was also a flurry of guests checking in and that kept me busy.
Finally I saw Apara pull up in the car. She was alone. One of the maids came out to help her carry all the supplies inside. As they walked past the lobby, my wife didn't even look at me or say hi hello. And there was no smile or laughter. That same old inert expression.
"Apara! Stop! Do you mind explaining to me why you lied to me? And why you were having coffee and laughing with some random white guy? That's right, I know all about it. How do I know about it? It was on fucking TV, that's how! Your philandering is on the news now. This is the kind of characterless woman you are?"
I screamed out all this. But in my mind, not to her. I have never been great at confrontations. Besides, there were guests in the lobby and the maid was with her. I did not want to make a scene. Even if no one had been around, I doubt I would have yelled at her like that. It just isn't my nature. So I sat there grumbling silently and trying to decide how exactly to broach the subject later at night after my shift ended.
This whole thing was complicated and troubling enough as it is. Soon it got worse. Who should walk in the door, but the very man I had seen with her on TV.
"Howdy!" he said, flashing me a wide smile. "I'd like a room please."
I stared at the guy. Like many white men in Texas, he was an imposing presence. Well over six feet tall, broad chested, muscular, wearing a tight t-shirt, and jeans. He towered over me as he put his elbows on the desk and played with his keys.
There was a mix of confusion and anger in my head. How dare he just show up here like this? Was this something Apara had asked him to do? Check into the hotel so they could spend time together?
"Well?" he said after I was silent for a long time.
"Sorry....no rooms. We are sold out."
That seemed to surprise him. He stepped back and looked out of the glass door.
"Your parking lot is half empty!" he said in an annoyed voice.
"Yes, but we are sold out." I said.
"Jesus fucking Christ man! Are you kidding me?" he raised his voice.
And I was a little scared. But I kept my cool and said to him.
"There is a Travelodge down the road. They should have rooms."
"Let me speak to your manager!" he thundered.
"I am the manager." I calmly said.
There was rage on his face as he glowered at me.
"Fine. Fuck you, asshole!" he said and stormed out.
It seemed like a minor victory. Sending this man packing instead of giving him a room in my own hotel to make a move on my own wife. But obviously, I knew the problem went much deeper. There was nothing to stop him from really checking into another hotel and then asking Apara to join him there.
And sure enough, fifteen minutes later, Apara came to the front desk.
"How many rooms left?" she casually asked me.
"About half of them." I said, also casually.
"So we are not sold out?"
"No, why would you say that?"
I looked at her pretty but expressionless face. I could read the signs of come confusion and doubt. Did she know that I knew? Would confirming what had happened not confirm that this guy was her lover? How would she treat this? Well, as I discovered then and later many times, Apara was a cunning and expert liar with the ability to think quickly.
"The maid said she overheard you turn a customer away because we are sold out."
What a skillful lie. This way she could get the information she needed without confessing anything. Now I had a choice. Do I confront her with what I had seen or not? For some reason, I decided to play along with her lie, and figure things out later. So I responded with my own lie. Something she could not confirm or reject.
"Oh right, that. Well, it was this big burly guy. I didn't get a good vibe from him. Seemed like a criminal or something."
"So you just turn a customer away for that flimsy reason?" she sounded annoyed.
"It's not a flimsy reason. It is a very genuine thing your Uncle taught me. Many times we will get unsavory or criminal guests. the smart thing is to just send them away. If they check in and do something dastardly, we will be on the hook."
She just glared at me and walked away.
After that I waited to see if she would make some excuse to leave the hotel again and meet up with her lover. But it didn't happen. Guests kept streaming in and checking out, so it was a busy shift. In the middle though, I kept thinking about what I should do next. I was confused. In the past when I had any major issues in life, I always relied on the advice of friends. But all the way out here in Texas, I had no friends. No one to talk to.
I felt sad. Maybe I should call up one of my friends in India. But I looked at the time and it was too early in the morning. And that's when I remembered Amit. My childhood friend and former business partner from our gym venture. He had followed the same path as me, but a few years before. Married a Gujarati woman from America and moved. He was in the retail business and lived in New Jersey. He was not able to attend the wedding. We had talked in short a couple of times on the phone since I came to the US, but no long conversations had happened. He was busy and so was I. But on this, he was the only one I could reach out to.
"Hitubhai! How are you?" he said in a delighted voice when I called.
"Hi Amit. I'm good. Are you...busy with something?"
"No, nothing major. Just watching TV with the kids. What's up?"
"I am in the middle of a problem, my friend. I need to talk to you about it."
"Haha, what happened? Immigration folks giving you trouble over your green card?" he said.
"No man, I am serious. It's a big crisis."
"Shit, sounds serious. Okay, let me step away from the kids and then tell me."
For the next fifteen minutes or so, I told him the entire story. From how the marriage was arranged to the night in room 106 to this recent incident. He listened carefully, asking a few questions along the way. Finally when I got done, he said,
"So sorry you are in this situation, Hitu. Sounds like a nightmare. I am sure you are very conflicted and stressed. I am glad you called me."
"Yeah, I really needed to talk to a close friend." I said looking around to make sure Apara wasn't there.
"Okay....here is what I think. All these facts are troubling for sure. But as a third party and your friend, let me tell you not to jump to any conclusions."
"How can I not jump to conclusions after what happened today???"
"Relax. Listen. Maybe.....bhabhi just stopped for a coffee. This guy started talking to her. You said she is very friendly and chatty anyway. So they chatted. Maybe he was in town visiting. She told him she manages a motel and recommended it to him. And then finished her coffee and came home. And that's why he came to your motel."
"Possible. But...."
"Yes, I know. It doesn't look good. Similarly for the other night, there can be other explanations. All I am saying is, don't be hasty in judging facts."
"Okay."
"Be calm. Let's see what happens." Amit assured me. "Now....hopefully it is just a misunderstanding. No issues. What we have to talk about is.....what if your suspicions are correct?"
"You mean if she really is a lying cheating slut?"
"Yes. What then?"
"Do you even have to ask? I will kick her out. Divorce her. Shame her!" I said angrily.
"You are being emotional, Hitesh." Amit calmly said.
"Well, shouldn't I be if my wife is doing such things?"
"Calm down. I am on your side. All I am saying is....listen. She is a citizen. You married her. You got a green card, right?"
"Yeah...."
"So you have been married what, less than a year?
"Yes."
"So it's what is called a conditional green card for a few years."
"Yes."
"So if tomorrow you discover she is a slut, kick her out, get a divorce. There goes your green card and your chance at a citizenship."
"What? Really?" I had not thought about this at all.
"Of course. Are you ready for that? Everyone in our community knows you have moved to America, gotten into the hotel business. If you return suddenly, people will talk. Everyone will find out. Is that what you want. To return home divorced and humiliated?"
He had a point.
"No."
"That's why I am telling you, think a little. Let's say she is being unfaithful to you. You confront her. Things get nasty. You get divorced. Bye bye, America. Instead just sit tight for a couple of years. Once you get citizenship, it can't be taken away. Then you can do whatever you want."
"Hmmm....but that means putting up with this for 2 more years?"
"That's the price you will have to pay unfortunately, yes. Again, only if it is true. We don't know that yet."
"I see what you mean."
"First things first. Try to confirm if she really is being unfaithful. Try to get proof if possible. It will help down the line with divorce negotiations."
"How do I get proof?"
"Try to get pictures or videos. Maybe get one of the employees to talk. Are you friendly with them? How about that Pepe guy? Maybe he knows something if he tried to send you in the wrong direction."
"Not really. They mostly speak Spanish. And Apara is friendly with them all. My interaction with them is limited."
"Try to befriend one of them. Maybe when one of them leaves or quits, hire someone you can trust."
"Hmmm."
"This is a serious matter, Hitesh, but you need to be careful. And plan properly."
"Yes."
"Of course, hopefully it is all a misunderstanding."
"Hopefully."
And we said our goodbyes after that. Talking to Amit gave me a little patience and courage. And he was right. I needed to confirm all this first. And not be hasty in confrontation, if I wanted my green card and citizenship.
Taking Amit's advice, I decided to make a plan about how to confirm my suspicions. Maybe even get proof. First I had to figure out, if she was doing things like this, who was she doing it with? She had to have a boyfriend or something. Or was it more complicated than that? Multiple guys? Guys who worked for us? Guests? Others?
I decided to take a systematic approach to solving this mystery. I took a diary and in that, listed all the men that she would come in regular contact with. Apart from Pepe, the others who occasionally filled in as desk clerks were all female. The maids were also obviously female. We had one guy who worked part time as a janitor. He came in 2-3 days a week to do cleaning and other stuff that was too physically demanding. His name was Pablo and he was in his fifties, a little slow, and fat. I somehow didn't think that was the kind of guy Apara would choose if she wanted to cheat. I had never seen her be too chatty or flirty with him either.
A likelier option were one of the other transient guys who kept dropping by for a variety of reasons. They were all young, fit, and sturdy men. Things in the motel kept breaking or malfunctioning a lot. So we had plumbers, electricians, other handymen who we would call. I didn't know their names, but knew them by sight. And I had often seen Apara laughing with them, having long chats. I had also noticed they had a roving eye, and would check out Apara shamelessly even if I was around.
And of course, there were the guests. We had a few regulars who stayed with us every other week or so. It could easily be one of them.
The next question was, if she did fool around with any of these men, when did she do it? And for that she had a lot of opportunities. Although we worked very hard and almost every waking hour, we weren't together much. And it was a big motel with a wide layout. At any given time, she could be anywhere, and in any room. And there was no way for me to know unless I dropped whatever I was doing and went hunting for her. Occasionally, she would have to go shopping. The last time, she had appeared on TV chatting with a strangers. Maybe that was an opportunity. Then there were times I had to leave the motel for a few hours on similar chores. That would give her a free run of the entire motel.
And of course, there was sleeping time. That night of room 106 was an exception when we were both sleeping in our apartment. That happened maybe 2-3 days a week. Most days, one of us took the night shift, while the other slept. Given how soundly I slept, I was sure that she could be doing anything when it was her night shift, and I wouldn't know. Or even when I had the night shift and slept in the day time, she could be up to anything.
The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like sleeping time was the best option for her to fool around, which meant it was the best time for me to confirm my suspicions.
So it started. Operation Catch Apara.
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