Chapter 2: Unexpected Guests

I had just slipped into sleep when loud knocking jolted me awake.

Groggy, I shuffled to the door. Meera was back.

"Bhabhi, sab theek? Phir se?"

She looked sheepish. "Sorry, Rohan. I left my bag here—my keys and ID are inside. Ab ghar ja nahi sakti."

She hugged herself, shrinking into the flickering corridor light.

I scratched my head. "Toh ab kya karein?"

She sighed. "Locksmith ko kal bulana padega. Can I crash here tonight?"

I hesitated. Friend’s wife, late night, just the two of us—Amma would have fainted.

"Just give me a blanket. Sofa pe so jaungi."

My mother’s voice rang in my head: “Aurat aur mard, raat ko ek ghar mein? Log kya bolenge!” What would neighbors say if they saw her twice in one night?

Seeing my hesitation, she suddenly started crying.

The sound of her sobs, so raw and helpless, cut right through me. I couldn’t bear to see anyone cry—least of all someone who had already been through so much tonight.

I quickly let her in, closed the door, and said, "Bhabhi, kisi friend ke yahan reh lo. Arjun ko pata chal gaya toh?"

"It’s too late—I can’t disturb anyone else. Aur kisi ko batana bhi nahi hai."

I couldn’t say more, so I fetched a blanket and set it up on the sofa.

"Thank you," she said, biting her lip. "Can I use your bathroom to freshen up?"

I handed her a new pair of pajamas and toiletries. "Thode bade hain, par naya hai."

"Thanks, Rohan. Sorry for the trouble."

She disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

The frosted glass showed her silhouette, blurred and gentle. The sound of water running, the steam, made the air heavy. I scolded myself—arre, Rohan, stop being filmi! This isn’t Karan Johar ka set.

I tried watching TV but couldn’t focus, gulped water but still felt parched. I opened the window; the sweet smell of agarbatti from a neighbor’s pooja drifted in, mixed with raat ki rani and the hum of a generator.

When the water stopped, I peeked out—just as she was about to knock. She stumbled out as I opened the door, bumping into me. We both froze, too shocked to speak, then burst out laughing—more out of nerves than anything else.

"Sorry, sorry! Didn’t know you were outside..."

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," she said, then grinned. "Do you have a hair dryer?"

I found one and handed it over.

She plugged it in, running her fingers through her hair, humming an old Kishore Kumar tune. The place smelled faintly of sandalwood and damp towels.

I slumped on the bed, scrolling my phone, pretending to be busy.

After a while, she sat beside me. "Since you’re not sleepy, can I ask some legal stuff?"

Not sleepy? I was nearly dead on my feet, but I nodded.

"Embezzlement ka kya punishment hai?"

"Usually less than three years. If the amount is huge, up to ten. Agar aur bhi zyada, toh life tak."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Kitna amount huge mana jata hai?"

I yawned, "Exact figure yaad nahi. Google kar lo."

"I just want Arjun to come home. No matter what, three years or five, I’ll wait. Please do your best."

Her words hit hard. You only see true love in crisis. My respect for her grew.

She kept talking—about Arjun, about silly things, about hope. I was so tired, I barely remembered when she left the room. The tick of the clock, fridge humming, a mosquito whining—somehow, I drifted off.

The morning sun crept in through the curtains, warming my toes. I stretched—and my hand brushed against something soft. Not my pillow. My eyes snapped open.

Meera was lying next to me, hair spilling over her face, sharing my blanket.

My heart hammered. What the hell?

She sat up, confused, then yelped, covering her face. "How did this happen? I must’ve dozed off talking. This is too embarrassing."

I was stunned, speechless.

"We’re innocent, okay? Nothing happened. Don’t tell Arjun."

I snapped to attention. "Bhabhi, I’m not stupid."

She glared, half-joking, half-deadly serious. "This is our secret. If you tell, I’ll tear your mouth off."

"I’m not stupid," I repeated.

She rolled her eyes. "Bas, don’t call me bhabhi. Just Meera. From now, we’re brothers."

I blinked. "Alright, Meera."