Chapter 5: The Breaking Point

That night, I didn’t wait for Meera. I turned off the lights, locked the door, and climbed into bed, letting the silence fill the house. Whether she came back or not, I stopped caring. It was as if the last thread between us had finally snapped.

We spoke only when necessary, moving around each other like shadows. On Saturday, Meera played loud Bollywood music as she got ready, the bathroom filled with rose talc and the sharp scent of lipstick. She chirped, “Meeting girlfriends for lunch and shopping.”

I didn’t ask questions. I ironed my shirt, checked my wallet, and splashed on aftershave—a habit from happier times.

She watched me in the mirror. “You’re going out too?”

I smiled, “Meeting a friend for lunch as well.”

“Which friend? Do I know them?” She asked, dabbing on lipstick, her eyes fixed on my reflection.

“Sneha. You’ve met her.”

Her hand paused, lipstick trembling, a drop of sindoor falling onto the sink. She stared at me, the silence stretching.

"What?" she finally whispered, the single word carrying the weight of everything left unsaid, the start of a story neither of us knew how to finish.