I get out of the shower, my hair completely wet, wearing a baby pinkchikankari kurtaand whitepalazzo.
I stop and look at myself in the mirror once. My eyes are not as swollen as they were before, but the dark circles beneath my eyes are prominent, so I apply a soothing gel eye cream to fix it temporarily.
I put on a smile on my face as I make my way outside, but before I can even reach the kitchen, I bump into my dear husband’s chest.
I grit my teeth as I look up at him. Why does he look good? Why does he even have to smell so good?
God, I dislike him so much at the moment.
“You look pretty,” he says, flicking my hair behind my ear.
I open my mouth, ready to argue, but close it as I register his words. What?
“Thanks,” I say, confused. “When are you planning to tell them?”
His eyebrows furrow. “Tell them what?”
I narrow my eyes. “About us?”
“Us?”
I clench my teeth. He is so annoying. Why did I marry him?
“About divorce.”
I try to keep my voice low and not completely lash out at him.
“Yes, that’s not happening.”
I cross my arms. “You won’t tell them? How long will you hide it from the—?”
“I won’t give you a divorce, Aisha.”
“Rey—”
Before I can further argue, the voices of our mothers practically bickering reach us, and we both stop and peek into our kitchen, which now looks like a mess.
“What the hell is going on?” Reyansh asks, and I just shrug.
“We will eatAloo Parathe,and that is final,” my mom argues, abelanin her hand.
“No,” Reyansh’s mom takes it from her hand. “We are eating something light for breakfast.Aloo Paratheare too oily.”
“No.”
“Yes—”
“You are just too British, Margot,” my mom exaggerates.
“Of course, I am.”
I clutch my head as their bickering continues. Reyansh stares ahead, his arms crossed at his chest.
“This is going to be tough, isn’t it?” he whispers in my ear.
“Tough and dramatic.”
Reyansh Carter
