Chapter 29: chapter 29

The echo of polished shoes on the marble floors followed Amey as he walked into the apartment. The familiar warmth of home greeted him—soft lighting, the aroma of incense, and the faint hum of music playing from the kitchen. Anushri stood by the dining table, dressed in a casual yet elegant kurta, her hair down, her expression lighting up as soon as she saw him.“You’re home,” she said, her voice softer than usual, tinged with something playful.Amey gave a small nod and set his keys in the bowl near the door. “Yeah.”There was something different about him. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion—not the kind that came from work, but the kind born from overthinking.Anushri walked up to him, hopeful. “Dinner’s ready. I made your favorite—paneer kadai and jeera rice.”He looked at her, a flicker of something passing through his eyes, and forced a smile. “Thanks. I’m not too hungry though. I’ll eat later.”Before she could respond, he had already walked toward the bedroom, loosening his tie and disappearing behind the door.Her smile faded.---That night, Anushri waited—waited for him to talk, to open up, to just sit with her like he sometimes did when the days were heavy. But he never came back out. He lay on his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling in silence, lost in a fog she couldn’t see through.She reached out once, placing her hand gently on his arm. “Is something wrong?”“No,” he said simply, turning away from her. “Just tired.”She pulled her hand back slowly, a lump forming in her throat.---For the next few days, Amey moved through life like a shadow of himself.He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t rude.But he wasn’t there either.He went to work. He returned home. He answered her questions but never started a conversation. He smiled, but it never reached his eyes.Anushri noticed the distance growing, inch by inch.What she didn’t know was that ever since the encounter with Megha, Amey had been swallowed whole by a tidal wave of emotions he thought he’d buried long ago. Seeing her again had stirred memories—of love once felt, of dreams once built together, and of pain he had never fully dealt with.Megha’s voice still echoed in his ears. Her eyes, that soft smile, the regret in her expression. It all played in loops in his head, and though he hated to admit it—even to himself—it affected him.More than it should have.---Three mornings later, Anushri was clearing the nightstand in the bedroom when she noticed Amey had left his phone charging there. She reached to move it slightly, but the screen lit up.A new message.Megha: Can we meet again? Please. Just once more.Her hand froze mid-air.Heart pounding, she picked up the phone and opened the chat. What she saw next knocked the breath out of her.A series of messages from Megha over the past couple of days:— I keep thinking about our conversation— I miss talking to you like before— I wish I hadn’t let go back then…— Can we just spend some time together, like old times?— Please don’t ignore me. I still feel something… don’t you?Anushri’s vision blurred as a deep anger surged in her chest.He hadn’t replied to most of them. But that wasn’t the point. Why hadn’t he told her? Why had he been so distant? Why had he hidden this from her?She stormed into the living room where Amey sat on the couch, sipping his coffee, scrolling through news on his tablet.“Who the hell is Megha?”He looked up, startled. “What?”“Don’t act clueless,” she snapped, her voice shaking. “Your phone. The messages. Her. Who is she, Amey?”He set the cup down slowly, processing the confrontation. “She’s someone I knew. A long time ago.”Anushri’s jaw tightened. “Someone you loved, you mean?”He didn’t answer. And that silence felt louder than anything he could have said.Anushri took a step closer, her voice rising. “So that’s why you’ve been acting like a ghost? Distant. Lost. Avoiding me. You met her, didn’t you?”Amey rubbed his temples, suddenly feeling cornered. “Yes. It was unexpected. At the seminar.”“And you didn’t think to tell me? Your wife?” she snapped, the word wife sharp as a blade.He looked at her then, and for the first time in days, his eyes weren’t blank. They were heavy.“I didn’t reply to her messages. I didn’t plan any of it. But… I wasn’t ready to talk about it either.”“Because you still love her,” Anushri said, her voice cracking, pain bleeding into her anger. “That’s it, isn’t it?”Amey didn’t answer right away. He looked down, guilt washing over him.“It’s not that simple,” he finally said.Anushri laughed bitterly. “It never is, is it? You kissed me. You called me your wife in front of others. You held my hand. And now? You’re lost in thoughts of another woman.”“Anushri…” he began.“No,” she cut in. “Don’t. Just don’t. You say you didn’t respond to her, but you didn’t stop her either. You let her crawl back into your head, into your heart.”Tears pooled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I thought maybe… you were beginning to feel something real.”“I was,” he said, frustrated. “I am. But seeing her again—it brought back things I didn’t expect. I’m trying to process it.”“Well,” she said, stepping back. “Process it all you want. But don’t expect me to stand here while you decide who you want more.”She turned and walked toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.Amey sat back down, burying his face in his hands.He never meant to hurt her.But now, hurt was all that remained between them.