Chapter 3: Transaction or Love?

The reason for my disappointment was simple.

Every time we finished, Neha would dress quickly and leave, never lingering.

She’d tuck her kurti into her jeans, swing her dupatta across her chest, and slip out the door—no hugs, no lazy afterglow. The fan kept whirring above, the sheets still warm, but her presence would vanish, like steam from a fresh cup of chai. It left me emptier than before.

Watching her leave, I always wondered: was I a lover, or just a client?

Was this just a dirty transaction in a dusty office?

Her constant turning away made me want her affection even more.

I started craving her attention, some sign that I mattered. Each time she walked out without a backward glance, it stung—like I was just another customer, not someone she cared for. I hated how much it bothered me.

That’s when divorce first crossed my mind.

Once, I couldn’t stand it anymore. As she buttoned up, I blurted, “We’ve done this so many times. Haven’t you caught feelings for me?”

She paused, fiddling with her phone, then gave a half-smile. “Rohan Sir, you have a wife at home—she’s carrying your child. If I start dreaming, what will I get? Only dukh, no?”

Her words made it clear—the real problem was that I had a family.

So, I started thinking about divorce.

Night after night, I wondered: if I divorced Priya, would Neha become less rational? Would she finally fall for me?

But it never went beyond a thought.

I didn’t dare divorce Priya.

Not just because she was three months from her due date, but because if I left her, my career would be over.

You see, my twenty-lakh job was arranged by Priya’s uncle.

Half of what Neha believed was true: I was related to the chairman.

But the other half was wrong—I wasn’t his nephew, only his niece’s husband.