He shook the thought away and turned to leave. But the image of Mishti standing with the broken mangalsutra pressed to her chest stayed with him.
CHAPTER 21
KW Capital Office
An hour later, Karan finally came down to leave for home. He walked toward the parking area, his phone in hand, already half immersed in the next call he had to make.
That was when he saw her.
Mishti stood near the edge of the parking lot, waiting for her driver. She never used his car. That had been decided long ago. Their schedules rarely aligned, and he had made it clear that he did not want the responsibility of driving her to and from work, regardless of whether they were married. The more space he kept between them, the better it was for him. For his plans. For his control.
She still looked lost. Not just tired, but absent in a way that caught his attention immediately. Every few seconds, she wiped the corner of her eyes, as if hoping no one would notice. Her fingers were clenched tightly around something, and even from where he stood, he knew what it was. The broken mangalsutra rested in her fist, the black beads peeking through her fingers as she looked down at it again and again, as if trying to understand how it had slipped out of her life so easily.
Seeing her so disturbed, something stirred in that stone heart of his, which she always accused him of having.
Karan reached his car and opened the door, fully intending to get in and leave. That was the sensible thing to do. That was whathe always did. He did not want her to affect him any further. But his hand froze on the door handle, and his gaze went back to her. Even from a distance, he saw another tear slip her eye, which she immediately wiped away.
Damn!!
He shut the car door with a sharp breath and marched toward her.
“Mishti.”
The sudden sound startled her so badly that she clutched the mangalsutra tighter, as she turned around, only irritating him further.
“What are you still doing withthatin your hand?” he snapped. “Put that damn thing away.”
Anger flared in her eyes through the tears.
“Ssh,” she scolded him angrily. “How can you talk about it like it is nothing?” She held the mangalsutra closer to her heart. “It is a mangalsutra, Karan. It is not just jewellery. I told you it’s what connects us in this marriage.”
She did not stop there.
“It carries prayers, promises. Every bead, every knot is tied with the hope that the bond will stay protected forever. Women wear it with faith, not fashion. It’s sacred.”
Karan listened patiently without interrupting her, watching her vent the anger and hurt she had been holding in ever since this mishap happened.
“I’ve worn this every single day since you tied it around my neck. And today it just… snapped. Like it couldn’t hold on anymore.”
She wiped her tears once more, looking away from him, as if embarrassed by how much she had revealed.
He exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair.
“So how long are you planning to drag this?” he asked bluntly. “How many hours do I have see you in this sulking mood, all because of this chain?”
“Until I get it fixed,” she replied, not looking at him when she answered.
Mishti already knew he did not care. That was evident in the way he spoke and the way he dismissed it.
Karan nodded once, as if accepting something internally and the very next moment, he stepped forward and grabbed her arm. The sudden contact made her gasp, but before she could protest, he pulled her with him and dragged her toward his car.
“Karan? What are you doing?” She hissed under her breath and twisted her arm. But Karan did not slow down. He reached his car first, unlocked it, and pulled open the front passenger door.
“Get in,” he said, leaving no room for discussion.
But Mishti stood her ground. Her chin lifted, eyes still glossy. “I am not going home. I need to fix this first.”
He turned to her then, stepping into her space. His face was close enough for her to feel his breath. “Not a word now, Mishti,” he added. “Just get inside the car.”
