Chapter 6: Truths Under the Studio Lights

With the Mehra family’s resources and connections, Arjun is now a top male star.

When the show started, the live room was packed with over a million viewers.

Under the spotlight, I heard Ritu speak:

“I heard President Priya and Arjun are already discussing marriage. Can you share your feelings along the way?”

Arjun turned to look at her, smiling faintly:

“I never believed those rumours and slanders about her. In my eyes, Priya has always been the one I love most.”

He gazed at her affectionately. His eyes were so gentle they seemed to be brimming with emotion.

But Priya just smiled with her eyes down: “...Liar. When I first went blind, how much you despised me—have you forgotten?”

Arjun was stunned. His gaze swept to me, a trace of malice in his eyes. But in front of the camera, he could only force a smile: “I don’t really remember. Maybe as our feelings grew, I only remember the sweet parts of our love.”

I glanced at the live comments behind me. “So sweet” and similar phrases filled the screen.

I put down the script, gripped the microphone, and asked Priya:

“It seems you two have some differences. Is there another story? Why not tell us how you adjusted to each other?”

I thought she wouldn’t answer. But after a moment of silence, Priya spoke.

“When I first lost my sight, I was very depressed, resented the world, and didn’t like him. He went out early and came back late every day, and still had to take care of me in between. One day he was so busy, he left dal stewing in the cooker, went downstairs to buy salt, and forgot to turn off the gas. When he came back, the kitchen was on fire.”

My throat felt blocked. In a daze, I seemed to feel that evening again. The heat from the flames still lingered in the air. The acrid smell of burnt dal still haunted my dreams.

I dragged Priya out of the room. Grabbing her collar, I asked fiercely: “Do you want to die?”

My whole body, and my voice, were shaking.

She didn’t argue with me like before. Instead, after a long, long silence, she asked hoarsely:

“Wouldn’t it be better if I died? Wouldn’t it be a relief for you?”

It was at that moment I realised—the once proud Mehra heiress was now just a lost little kitten putting up a brave front.

So I panted and pushed her into the room. The walls scorched by fire were black. One by one, I unbuttoned her kurta and whispered: “There’s no dinner, so you make it up to me.”

She seemed to realise something: “Are you sure...?”

The rest was swallowed by my forceful kiss.

“Priya, I never thought you were a burden.”

That night, it felt like the whole world was turned upside down, leaving only us.

The smell of burnt dal lingered long after, mixing with her hair and the old bedsheets. We laughed, we cried, and in the darkness, she clung to me as if I was the only anchor in a stormy sea.

And at this moment, she brought up the past. The intimate fiancé beside her now was Arjun. The whole world thought those memories belonged to the two of them alone.

A suffocating bitterness exploded in my heart. At such close distance, the familiar yet unfamiliar scent from Priya silently enveloped me—

All-encompassing. But no longer mine.

She paused, and in the applause of the live audience, finally said:

“I’ll always remember the moonlight that night, bright enough to see everything. I couldn’t see, but he talked to me all night.”

I gripped my pen tightly and hurriedly lowered my head. My eyes ached.

Outside, the lights of Mumbai blinked on. In another home, someone’s mother was probably lighting a diya for her children’s happiness. I wished someone would do the same for me.