After the funeral, we returned home late that night. The silence inside the house was heavy — every shadow felt like it was watching me grieve. I didn't know what I was anymore. It felt like I had lost everything — my father, my child, my reason to breathe.
"Go and take rest," Vaishank said softly, placing a gentle pat on my shoulder.
My jaw tightened. His touch, once comforting, now felt distant. I didn't reply. Without a word, I walked to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. My body felt hollow, like a broken doll someone had forgotten to fix.
Moments later, the door creaked open. Vaishank stepped in quietly and sat beside me. For a moment, he just stared at me — my empty eyes, the quiet tremble in my fingers. He let out a slow sigh.
"Amrita, I know how much this hurts you," he said, his voice calm but heavy. "It hurts me too... but I can't watch you fall apart like this."
Tears slid down my cheeks. I wiped them away roughly, refusing to break again in front of him. Vaishank moved closer, leaning in until his breath brushed against my neck.
"For my sake," he whispered, his lips grazing my skin, "I need you to be strong."
I let out a bitter laugh, rolling my eyes as a cracked sigh escaped me. "Why… to kill me again?"
He pulled back, confusion flashing in his eyes. "Amrita?"
I glared at him, my voice sharp and trembling with anger. "Amrita, my foot."
I snatched the stack of papers beside me and threw them across the bed. The sheets fluttered and scattered — photos, printed call logs, names, and numbers landing everywhere like sharp fragments of truth.
Vaishank's eyes widened. His hand froze mid-air as he looked from the papers to me, then back at the pictures — one showing him with her. Lora. The same woman I'd seen smiling politely at our wedding. The same woman holding Raj at the baby ceremony.
"What is all this?" he asked, his voice cracking. "It's not me!"
But I saw the panic flash across his face — too quick, too real.
---
(Flashback)
"Very soon, Vaishank will be home," I murmured to myself that evening, a small smile tugging at my lips. The smell of curry filled the kitchen, mixing with the faint laughter of my little Raj playing in the hall. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was steady — rhythmic, like my heartbeat waiting for him to return.
My phone rang. I wiped my hands and glanced at the screen. Sudesh.
"Hello, Sudesh," I answered, smiling.
His tone was different — heavy. "I wanted to tell you something, but you have to be strong."
The smile faded from my face. "What is it?"
He exhaled, his silence louder than words. "Vaishank isn't who you think he is. He's cheating, Amrita. With his secretary — Lora."
My chest tightened. "What are you talking about?"
"I know you'll be mad at me," he said quietly. "But you're my chittu. I won't let you get fooled by him anymore. The reason he married you… it's not just love. There's another reason."
I closed my eyes, shaking my head. "Sudesh, stop it. You're my best friend, and I respect you — but how can you say something so filthy about my husband?"
He sighed. "Fine. I'll give you one week. If you can prove he's innocent, I'll take back every word."
"One week," I said through gritted teeth. "And I'll prove you wrong."
The call ended, but his words stayed. They crawled under my skin, whispering doubt into every breath I took.
That night, after putting Raj to sleep, I lay in bed, restless. When I heard the door open, my heart calmed a little.
"I'm home," Vaishank said softly, walking in. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "I'll take a quick shower. Long day."
He removed his tie, his movements relaxed, and placed his phone on the table before walking into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the room.
I sat up, staring at his phone. My hands trembled. I didn't want to break his trust — but I had to know. Just once. Just a quick look.
"Sorry, my husband," I whispered to myself.
I unlocked the phone, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Messages. Notifications. Then — her name.
Lora.
One message glowed at the top. I opened it. My breath hitched. A picture of her — wrapped in a towel — with the caption: "Every drop of water on my body feels like your touch."
I froze. My heart pounded painfully. No… no, it can't be what it looks like. Maybe she's obsessed. Maybe it's one-sided.
The water stopped. Panic surged. I quickly placed the phone back and unlocked the bathroom door just as he stepped out — towel around his waist, hair dripping.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied my face.
I forced a smile. "Nothing. I just… felt like watching a movie. Goodnight."
He nodded, smiling faintly, and waved as I left the room.
But from that night onward, the silence between us grew. For days, I searched for answers — and what I found shattered every piece of me left intact.
With Rahul's help — Lora's ex — I got the proof. The photos. The calls. The truth I never wanted to face.
And before I could confront him… that day arrived. The day everything turned upside down.
The day I lost my son.