“Why not?” I tease.
She straightens up, scandalized. “You can’t be serious. He’ll bark there and create havoc!”
“He won’t, Aunty. You know he’s well-behaved. He’ll sit quietly next to you. And people bring their pets to the temple all the time. I don’t think anyone will have an issue.”
She eyes me for a beat, then looks down at Shadow, who’s now wagging his tail like he’s agreeing with me.
“You sure this is a good idea?”
“Yup.”
She shakes her head with a sigh. “Fine.”
Then, as she turns to leave, she points a finger at me. “Tell your future husband he owes me a new saree.”
“I’ll pass your message,” I call after her, grinning as she marches off, with Shadow prancing along beside her like he just won a war.
Once I’m alone, I pull the laptop back into my lap and start going through the colleges again. A smile forms on my lips as I think about how these little pieces of life… this home, these people, this chaos, make me believe that life really is beautiful.
An hour later, I shut the laptop and stretch as my stomach grumbles. I glance towards the door, then to the kitchen. Maybe there’s still some of Aunty’s paratha left from this morning.
Just as I push myself off the bed, the doorbell rings.
I groan.Perfect timing.
Padding towards the front door, I unlock it and swing it open, only to frown when my eyes meet Maya’s.
She stands there in a pale green, knee-length dress, her makeup flawless, and her hair pulled into a high ponytail. But what catches my gaze almost instantly is the bruise peeking out from the neckline of her dress, just above her collarbone. My stomach tightens as Sidharth’s words replay in my mind, about how Deepak had hurt her, not just emotionally, but physically too.
When I found out how she betrayed my sister, I hated her. I built this image of her in my head as one of those over-the-top villains straight out of a TV drama. And to be honest, I still hate her. She’s done enough to make sure I never run out of reasons.
But now, the sharp remark I usually throw at her the second I see her doesn’t come.
It’s definitely not pity. Because I could never feel that for someone who hurt my sister the way she did. But I guess it’s just something in that bruised and broken look on her face that tells me to hold my tongue. Just out of sheer humanity
“Can we talk?” she asks softly.
I want to say no, maybe even slam the door in her face. But I just step aside.
She walks in without a word, and I close the door behind me. She then turns to face me, meeting my eyes as I fold my arms across my chest.
“What do you want to talk about?”
She looks at me for a long moment, her eyes eerily calm. Almost too calm. Then, out of nowhere, she throws her head back and laughs.
I frown. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Her laughter dies as abruptly as it started. She tilts her head, and her lips curl into that all-too-familiar venomous smile.
“Oh, Nisha,” she coos, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Did you really think I was some helpless damsel in distress?”
My stomach tightens. “What are you talking about?”
“Well,” she drawls, taking a deliberate step closer. “I figured it’s time you heard it straight from me. Those threatening messages that rattled you? That was me,” she purrs. “The fear, the confusion, the emotional chaos you’ve been drowning in? That was my little gift… a free ride on the roller coaster I built just for you.”
Nausea twists in my gut, and I just stare at her, trying to make sense of the words that came out of her mouth.She did all this?
“What?” I whisper.
