Inside the bank, the air conditioning felt biting against my skin. I sat across from the manager, signing the documents to authorize the transfer of twenty-five lakh rupees. Every stroke of the pen felt like I was cutting a thread that bound me to him. This money represented the weight of his accusations and the price of his insults. By the time I walked out, I felt lighter, yet hollow. I was no longer his "gold digger." I was nothing to him now.
Next, I headed to a small, quiet café near Noor’s apartment. I couldn't go to her place yet; I needed a moment to mask my grief before facing her. I pulled out my phone and looked at the last photo Tanya had sent. Saurav looked so relaxed in his uniform, standing beside her. The sight of the medals on his chest, the same chest I had once leaned on for comfort made me feel physically sick.
My phone buzzed with a message from the academy in Switzerland. My visa process was moving faster than expected. In two weeks, I would be gone.
"Kavya?"
I looked up to see Noor standing there, her face etched with worry. She sat down and immediately took my trembling hands in hers.
"I saw him, Noor," I whispered, the tears finally spilling over. “He’s back. And he... he didn't even believe she was gone. He laughed.”
Noor’s grip tightened. "He’s a monster, Kavya. You can’t stay with him."
"I'm not," I said, wiping my face with a napkin. My voice had found a sharp edge of finality. "I transferred the money. I’m finishing the paperwork for the academy tonight. I just need you to help me with one thing."
"Anything," she promised.
"Take care of Avni. Tell her nothing unless I ask you to. Her husband is Saurav’s cousin, and I don't want to cause tension between them. I'll handle the rest."
I looked out the window at the bustling street, feeling like a ghost watching the world move on. Saurav thought he knew me. He thought I was a girl who could be bought, used, and discarded. But as I watched the sunset paint the sky in shades of bruised purple, I realized that for the first time in three months, I wasn't just Kirti’s grieving sister or Saurav’s hated wife.
I was a dancer. And I was going to dance my way so far away that he would never find me again.
It was eight in the evening when I stepped out of the café and saw him. He stood there with the same calculating gaze, yet his eyes were warm.
Abhiraj Sisodiya.
His eyes mirrored my grief; he knew about my sister. I could feel his pain. I wanted to run to him and hide in his arms, but I stayed rooted to the spot. Suddenly, thunder rolled and the rain began to pour.
Abhiraj moved toward me, removing his suit jacket to shield my head. “Get in the car. Now.”
I shook my head, but he countered firmly, “Kavya… ” The command in his voice was impossible to ignore. I obeyed.
We sat in his car as fat drops of rain slapped against the windshield. We stayed quiet for a while, listening to the angry storm. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white, as if he were containing an explosion. Finally, he spoke. “I wish I could take the time back. I wish I had been there, Kavya.”
My breath hitched as I fought the urge to cry. I was so tired of crying. I was so broken that I felt there was nothing left to break.
“I only wish I could have canceled my business trip,” he added softly.
“She’s at peace now,” I mumbled, my voice barely audible. After a moment, I added, “I don't want to talk about it anymore.”
“You’re leaving India?” he asked, sounding shocked.
“I got a job offer in Switzerland. I’m leaving in a couple of weeks.”
“Isn’t it too soon?” he asked, a hint of anger in his voice.
“I’ve waited three months. I don’t think it’s soon at all.” I finally looked at him.
“Are you leaving Saurav?”
“Yes. But I won't divorce him until he asks for it.”
“He’ll never ask,” Abhiraj whispered, almost to himself.
“He’ll be glad to be rid of me.”
“Trust me, he won’t. He will never.”