(As told to Priya Chaphekar)
Like any other couple in their honeymoon period, my husband (then boyfriend) and I were drunk in love. I still remember the night we met – a winter wedding. A bonfire party. The aroma of toasted marshmallows. Acoustic music. Mushy weather. Giggles were followed by snuggles and before we knew, we were wrapped in one shawl. Our chemistry during the dating period was enviable. We didn’t let go a single opportunity to make love. We did it everywhere. In the elevator, the parking garage and the movies, on the bed, the beach and the kitchen counter. We kissed senselessly in filthy washrooms and on the carpet of a lavish suite with equally remarkable intensity. We were way too distracted to care.