Monty ended the video call with trembling hands. His heart was still racing—not from the knock at the door, but from the ache of pretending. Pretending to be someone he wasn't. Pretending he hadn't fallen deeply for Romy. Pretending he wasn't breaking inside.
He opened the door slowly, expecting perhaps a servant or even Preety. But standing there was his mother.
She looked at him, eyes filled with quiet concern. "Monty," she said softly, "Preety deserves the truth. Tell her everything that happened to you while you were in your in-laws' home."
Monty froze.
His mother placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "She's your sister. If she walks into that house unprepared, any crack in the story could ruin everything. Tell her what she needs to know… at least the parts that matter."
Monty nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Okay, Ma."
He walked to Preety's room, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on his chest. Preety sat on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes lifted when she saw him.
"Can I come in?" he asked softly.
She nodded.
He sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance. "There's something I need to tell you... things that happened in Romy's house while I was living as you."
Preety listened quietly as Monty began.
"I found out something about Naina," he said. "I caught her… with someone else. She was cheating on me. The world felt like it was collapsing under me. I didn't know how to handle it."
Preety's eyes widened. "What? Naina cheated?"
Monty nodded. "Yeah… I told him she's my brother girlfriend, I was broken. And Romy, he… he helped me through it. He saw me shattered and didn't turn away. He supported me, covered for me, helped me make Naina realize what she did."
Preety looked surprised. "Romy helped you with that? I always thought he was… cold."
Monty smiled a little. "He's not. He's complicated… but kind. He was the reason I didn't completely fall apart."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the floor. There was so much more he wanted to say—about the kisses, the gentle touches, the nights he spent in Romy's arms—but he couldn't.
So he swallowed it.
He didn't say how Romy's lips tasted like promises he'd never be able to keep. He didn't mention how Romy's embrace felt like home, or how, just for a while, he had let himself believe it was real.
Instead, he simply said, "Romy did all this without ever asking for anything in return. I'll always be thankful for that."
Preety was quiet for a moment, then reached out and squeezed his hand. "Thank you for being strong… and for telling me."
Monty smiled faintly. "We have to protect each other now. No one else can."
As he stood to leave, she called after him. "Monty?"
He turned.
"You're really brave."
He offered a weak smile. "I wish I felt that way."
But in truth, bravery wasn't about wearing a disguise. It was about living with a broken heart… and still choosing to protect someone else's.
Elsewhere, Romy sat in his room, staring blankly at the screen of his phone. The sun had set, casting long shadows across the walls, but he hadn't moved. His mind was still wrapped around the feeling of Monty in his arms, the memory of those quiet kisses under the sheets, and the sound of Monty's laughter echoing in his heart.
But then—it rang again.
That call.
The same number. The same mystery.
His jaw tightened. His heart, once gentle, now thudded like a drum in battle. With a shaking hand, he picked up the phone.
"What do you want now?" Romy shouted into the receiver, his voice cracking with anger and pain.
"Haven't you done enough?"
He stood from the bed, pacing furiously.
"You betrayed me once. You walked away when I needed you. And now, when I'm finally trying to forget you… to move on… to be happy with my wife… you decide to come crawling back?"
His hand trembled, his breath shallow.
"No," he whispered fiercely.
"You don't get to do that. You don't get to ruin me twice."
Tears welled up in his eyes as he closed them tightly, forcing his voice to stay strong.
"I like my wife. I like her more than I've liked anyone in a long time. She gives me peace… something you never could. So don't call me again."
And without waiting for a reply, he ended the call.
Silence.
It filled the room like fog, heavy and cold.
Romy sat down, the weight of everything pressing against his chest. A single tear slid down his cheek, followed by another.
His past had knocked at his door again, but this time… he had shut it.
Still, his heart wasn't celebrating. It was breaking—quietly, silently, behind proud eyes and trembling lips.