Chapter 8: Departures
The second son of the Sharma family was single again.
A group of rich young men threw a bachelor bash at a karaoke bar, bottles of Old Monk and Thums Up lined up on the table. They drank themselves senseless, collapsing in a row.
No one knew what time it was when someone groggily pulled out their phone.
“Arrey, big news!”
That shout woke up a few people.
“That noble head of the Kapoor family actually showed up in Mumbai!”
“And he rushed back overnight on a private jet!”
Someone waved a hand, half-asleep: “No way. Didn’t they say he’s been abroad for treatment? Haven’t seen him in ten years.”
“Really, it’s trending online.”
Phones were passed around. The quiet room became lively again.
“It’s really him, and he’s even holding a girl, saying he came back overnight to take her abroad.”
“Tch, PR didn’t even have time to react. How urgent was this?”
“Let me see, let me see.”
“Tch, this girl... why does she look kind of familiar...”
“Rohan bhai, Rohan bhai!”
Someone pushed Rohan. “Look at the girl in Kabir’s arms. Doesn’t she look like... bhabhi?”
Rohan was actually already awake. But he didn’t like the Kapoor family’s fuss.
“How could it be your bhabhi.”
He took the phone impatiently. “Your bhabhi doesn’t even dare leave Mumbai, let alone go abroad...”
But with just one look at the photo, he froze.
It was pouring at the airport. Under a black umbrella, the man was tall and cold-faced. He shielded the girl in his arms completely. But he knew Priya’s figure and hair too well...
Impossible.
Rohan threw down the phone with a slap.
How could Priya know someone like Kabir?
Tonight she even asked him to her flat. She probably hadn’t seen him for a month, missed him to death.
Rohan took out a cigarette. Lit it. Pulled out his own phone. Scrolled to Priya’s number, just about to dial.
Saw the time. Three in the morning.
Forget it. At this hour, she’s sleeping.
But—No matter what time, Priya would always answer his call.
Rohan lit up the phone again. Dialled.
“Sorry, the number you have dialled is not in service.”
For the first time, he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the AC. The world outside, rain-soaked and wild, felt suddenly empty—like a flat after all the furniture has been taken away. And for the first time, Rohan wondered if obedience was ever love—or if, quietly, his Priya had learned to fly, leaving only the echo of her silence behind.