Chapter 3: Chai with Amit and the Bandra Chef

I didn’t sleep all night, replaying Ananya’s strange behaviours in my mind. I realised that besides her so-called ‘overtime,’ she’s been going on business trips more and more frequently in the past two years.

The city was still dark when I finally gave up trying to sleep. I sat on the balcony, a mug of watery chai cooling in my hand, thinking about the last two years—her sudden work emergencies, the endless conferences, and those WhatsApp messages that stopped making sense.

And Ananya isn’t someone who likes crowds. On her days off, she usually stays home, sometimes going out to eat or see a film with me. Most of her friends are married with kids and rarely invite her out. So I figured her lover probably isn’t from her circle of friends.

She’d drifted away from her college gang, and even her old school friends barely called anymore. Her phone was mostly silent except for office notifications.

On the contrary, it’s most likely a colleague from her company.

The logic was simple—proximity breeds temptation. Her company was her second home now, and I’d heard enough stories from friends about office affairs.

I planned to ask my buddy Amit to keep an eye out for me. Amit and Ananya work at the same company, and he’s even her direct boss. When Ananya interviewed for this company, I’d asked Amit to look after her.

Amit was family, more than just a friend. He’d helped me through some tough patches. I trusted him to be my eyes and ears, just like in college days.

Getting cheated on is the hardest thing to talk about with those closest to you. But after thinking it over, I decided to talk to him face-to-face.

I wanted to see his reaction, to judge for myself if he was hiding anything. Besides, some things are too heavy for phone calls.

So I went to the building where Amit and Ananya work, and called him from a café downstairs. Amit came down quickly. He wore a well-tailored suit, hair gelled, looking every bit the successful corporate type from Bandra.

He spotted me through the glass and waved, the same infectious grin as always. As he slid into the chair, the air filled with the scent of his expensive aftershave—imported stuff, the kind I’d never buy. The waiter slid two cutting chais onto our table, the steam curling between us like a third presence.

“Arrey, Rohan! What brings you to this side? Office buildings don’t scare you anymore, kya?” Amit joked as he sat down.

He signalled to the waiter for two chais, then leaned in, eyebrow raised. I forced a laugh, but my nerves were frayed.

Honestly, being in a fancy office building like this makes me uncomfortable. I used to work on the upper floors of such places, but after I was made a scapegoat for my boss and got fired, I grew tired and wary of office politics. So for the past two years, I haven’t looked for another job—I just stayed home.

That office smell—old coffee, disinfectant, and ambition—still made my skin crawl. Since losing my job, I’d sworn never to return to this rat race. It was easier on my soul to stay away.

Not that I did nothing. Because I love cooking, I started a food channel on YouTube and Instagram, and gained a decent following these past two years. With ad revenue and brand deals, I’m actually making good money. After all, I don’t have the pressure of raising a child.

Sometimes, my YouTube fans called me “Bandra Chef.” But in this house, I was just the man who made lunch. Even the excitement of internet fame couldn’t fill that void anymore. My hands curled around the chai glass, knuckles tight.

Thinking of ‘child,’ my mood darkened.

“What’s up, why did you want to see me?” Amit picked up on my change in expression.

He looked at me closely, concern creasing his forehead. For a moment, I felt almost guilty for doubting him.

I hesitated for a couple of seconds. “Recently at the company, have you noticed Ananya getting close to anyone? Especially male colleagues.”

I tried to sound casual, but my voice wavered. Amit’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing my words.

Amit frowned. “Getting close? No… Did she do something to let you down?”

He looked me straight in the eye, his tone a shade too steady. I tried to read his expression, but he was as unreadable as ever.

My ears burned. The words ‘I suspect Ananya of cheating’ stuck in my throat. Seeing this, Amit’s face turned serious. “Got it, bro, I’ll keep an eye out for you.” He patted my shoulder reassuringly. His grip was too tight, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “But don’t overthink it. You two are an old married couple, and with me watching at the company, she wouldn’t dare mess around.”

For a moment, I almost told Amit about Ananya’s abortion. But I couldn’t say something so humiliating, so I stopped myself. “Alright, I’ll leave it to you.”

We sat there for a minute, sipping chai in uneasy silence. The air between us felt heavier than before.

I stared at the road outside, watching the rickshaws go by, and wondered if I’d just handed my trust to the wrong man.