Someone had died...

... she could hear the chant of the mourners in the distance. Ida idly picked at the flaking shellacked surface of the twisted wrought iron railing that fenced in the small flat's even smaller balcony and shifted her legs beneath the round glass topped folding table. It had stopped raining some time ago and the air was still heavy with condensation. She took in a breath and rested her chin against her upraised hand. The glass sliding door squeaked a bit as it moved along its track and Ida turned towards it.

Sendhil's eyes were warm and tired and his wan smile spoke volumes of how hard he'd been working. Placing the small cup in front of her, he stood back and watched her pick it up and hold it under her nose. Ida took a sip.

Chai.

It was his favourite blend, but it was still struggling to become hers. She drank it anyway as it was the only thing in the cupboard. She gave him a smile. Reaching behind him, Sendhil pulled the door closed and remained standing, wrapping an arm about his midsection. He drank his own tea and looked off into the foggy distance, over the rooftops and towards the sea beyond.

"Did you know her?" she asked, feeling his somber mood lapping at the edges of her contentment.

Sendhil's hand paused and he touched his teeth to the lip of the cup in a light click.

"We... were not close," he answered after a moment.

His gaze was still faraway, soft and unfocused, his head cocked ever so slightly as he listened to the funeral procession.

"But, you knew her."

"Yes."

He swallowed a mouthful of hot liquid and grimaced when it burned his tongue. The tea splashed a bit as he banged the cup down on the table. Ida watched him sling the liquid from his hand and then swipe it against the side of his shirt, but said nothing. There was nothing she could say. She had to wait for him to work through his demons.

She sipped her tea, holding the cup unnecessarily with both hands for the little china cup was small enough to hold in the palm of one hand.

"Why aren't you there?" she asked, referring to the funeral.

Sendhil scoffed. Ida looked up at him. He was glaring now at the sea.

"She was my father's lover, while my mother was still alive in hospital!"

His anger bubbled to the surface, but Sendhil had had practice in tamping it down. He quieted himself as soon as the outburst left his lungs and picked up the tea again. He walked to the edge of the balcony and rested one hand on the railing. His shoulders were stiff and tight beneath his thin lemony yellow tunic and Ida could feel the heat and agony radiating from him.

Pure Agony.

Sendhil was in agony and it was an emotion she did not see in his normally sunny demeanor.

His father had married the woman with whom he'd taken up with while his first wife was dying in hospital and was now mourning the loss of his second wife, but this time without his eldest son by his side. Sendhil had refused, had offered excuses, had made plans to be out of the country, but in actuality, he stayed hidden in his small flat with a dark, foreign woman, with Ida, with his lover; the woman he loved until the loudest of the cries died down to a low murmur.

Ida finished her tea and carefully set the cup soundlessly on the table. Rising, she moved to him and lightly draped her arms about his waist.

"Sendhil," she whispered, her breath blowing hot against the back of his neck and feathering across his dark curls.

"Not now," he muttered darkly.

Ida might have pulled away if she was a different person, if she didn't know the man before her. She tightened her grip and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

"Sendhil."

She was insistent and finally he gave and softened, allowing her to embrace him.

"This will eat you up inside," she said. "You're needlessly torturing yourself. When it will only take a few steps to make things right between you and your father."

He said nothing. He turned and pushed her aside before stalking back into the flat.

Sendhil closed the door with a firm click. Ida sat down at the table again and upturning the cup, she drained the last few drops of tea into her mouth.