Chapter 4: Leaving Mumbai

I didn’t fall asleep until four or five in the morning. My dreams were a jumble—sometimes Amma, sometimes Arjun.

In my dream, he dragged me to the hospital with a cold face, forcing me to abort the child. “Meera, you should know your place.” Even asleep, his words cut deep.

Those words haunted me. I clutched my stomach, as if the baby could hear.

When I woke, it was already noon. I thought he’d left, but as I walked to the balcony, I heard him on the phone. Curtains billowed in the humid breeze as I tiptoed closer.

Kabir’s laughter boomed through the speaker, glasses clinking, Bollywood music faint in the background. “Arjun, Riya’s here. Where are you?”

“Still at home. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hurry up, everyone’s waiting to cut the cake. By the way, did you send your little canary away? Don’t let Riya see her, or there’ll be trouble.”

“Don’t worry. I know what to do.”

After hanging up, Arjun went downstairs—probably to meet Riya. He didn’t say goodbye. The door clicked, his footsteps fading down the marble stairs. I watched his Mercedes vanish into traffic.

I finished washing up and went to eat on the first floor, but unexpectedly, he hadn’t left yet. The kitchen smelled of leftover dal and jeera rice. I nearly dropped my plate when I saw him leaning on the sofa, lost in thought, cigarette in hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, I took the initiative to help him tie his tie, standing close, our breaths mingling. His gaze lingered on me.

Before leaving, he said, “Don’t go out today. Wait for me—I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.”

My heart felt heavy. I watched him pick up his wallet and keys, back straight as he left.

What else could it be? Probably to tell me to leave soon. After all, his beloved was back.

Two hours later, Riya posted on Instagram—a cake and a picture of her with Arjun: [Back, and everything is as it was.]

I scrolled through the comments, chest aching. They looked perfect—like a prince and princess. In this bungalow, a room was reserved for her. The reason Arjun donated to our college was because it was her alma mater. I’d seen the pink curtains and untouched childhood books. She was the one he truly loved.

As for me, I was just a stand-in. I waited on the sofa till midnight, but Arjun never came home. The clock ticked, the night swallowing all hope.

The next day, news of him and Riya leaving a hotel was everywhere on ShareChat. My phone buzzed with screenshots, whispers spreading. ‘Mumbai’s Power Couple Reunited’—as if I’d never existed.

A wave of nausea hit. I rushed to the bathroom, the smell of Harpic and incense sharp as I knelt by the toilet. My hands shook as I splashed water on my face.

After washing up, I looked at my reflection. Red-rimmed eyes, lips bitten raw—a woman on the verge.

Suddenly, I made up my mind. I had to leave. Otherwise, I’d become a shameful third party, and my child would never hold her head high.

I couldn’t let Ananya grow up with whispers chasing her. I owed her a better life, even if it meant starting from zero.