She sat next to me again and offered me a stroke. -''Paul, i want us to be like before'' she said, sorrow in her voice. -''I... i guess it's still too...early'' i tried to say something. ''Sooner or later, the memory will start fading and we will be once more comfortable with each other, like the old times''. My mother smiled, feeling happy that i finally graced her with a few words after all those days. -''You'll see. Someday, all this will be a bad, distant memory we'll be laughing at'' she. But I didn’t. Because, as I deduced in a few more days, I was the one who had been more responsible than her for it. She was merely a pawn in my game. My fantasy game. I had invited it, and when it’s discovered, I didn’t have no one else to blame.I wanted to cry. Scream. But I did neither of it.I visited the bar everyday and crawled to home. Crawled under my blanket. Slept next to her without making any move.Next Sunday night Meera warned me about my drinking habit. I knew I was drinking. More

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