Page 64 of Mrs. Rathore

Rhea finally looked up, licking a bit of jam from her thumb. “Well,” she said casually, “at least the hotel has a spa. Try to enjoy it. Maybe you two won't kill each other there,” she muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

This wasn’t a honeymoon.

It was a silent war, dressed up in silk sheets and candlelit dinners, set in the romantic heart of Udaipur. It felt like a battle behind closed doors, a vacation where love was merely an illusion, and resentment was the only thing we had packed in our suitcase.

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Chapter 23

AVNI

“Oh my God, Bhabhi, you have so many followers on Instagram!” Rhea gasped, her eyes wide as she stared at my phone screen, having just uncovered a hidden treasure.

I had only handed her my phone to fix a few settings because technology was never my strong suit. Still, instead of helping, she went straight into my Instagram account and became completely mesmerized by the number of followers staring back at her.

After I won the competition last month, my account had suddenly blown up. I went from a modest 10,000 followers to over 100,000. It still felt surreal and honestly surprising because I never imagined I would gain ninety thousand followers in just a month. Yet, the excitement was quickly dulled by the bitter truth that stabbed at my chest every time I opened the app: it all felt pointless now. Those thousands of followers didn’t know that I wouldn’t be able to dance anymore, at least not for a very long time and thanks to the fractures in both of my legs.

“You’ve got 100k followers, Bhabhi!” Rhea squealed again, this time even louder, as if she had become a social media star overnight. “I never thought my Bhabhi would be a sensation on Instagram!”

“Shut up, I’m nothing,” I said, rolling my eyes and nudging her playfully. “What’s the use of all this now, Rhea? I can’t even stand on my own, let alone dance. I was thinking of deleting myaccount. It just reminds me of what I used to be… and what I’ll probably never be again. Maybe it’s time. You know how to do that stuff, right? Just help me delete it.”

She looked at me as if I had just slapped her across the face.

“What?” I asked, slightly amused at her shocked expression.

“Are you crazy?” she finally blurted, her voice a mix of disbelief and outrage. “Like, are you insane, Bhabhi? Do you even know what people would give to be where you are right now? Gaining 100k followers in a month is no small feat! And look at this…” She shoved the phone closer to my face. “So many brands and dance institutes are reaching out to you. They want to collaborate, feature you, promote their products… and the best part? You don’t even have to dance for most of them!”

“But I didn’t even do anything,” I muttered, shaking my head. “It was my dance institute that recorded the performances, edited the videos, and sent them to me. I just uploaded them. Now these brands want me to make product videos, do reels, and post reviews…I don’t know how to do any of this. It all feels so overwhelming. I never wanted any of it, Rhea.”

She sat up straighter, her eyes sparkling with a childlike excitement that only she could pull off so naturally. “I’ll help you, Bhabhi! Don’t worry about anything. I’ll handle the techy stuff and guide you step by step. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at content creation, and you’re the perfect guinea pig!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She truly was the sunshine of this house. She was always smiling, always chatting, and always bringing life into even the dullest corners. I often wondered how the atmosphere would change if she weren’taround. She had a rare ability to make everyone feel a little lighter just by being there.

“I don’t want you to get distracted, sweetheart,” I said softly. “You’ve got competitive exams coming up. I can already imagine Aryan taunting me if your grades drop.”

She groaned and waved me off. “God, Bhabhi, leave my studies to me, please! Stop turning into Mom 2.0. I want to experience life, not just survive it. There’s so much I want to learn like dancing, photography, hiking... I want to try everything. Honestly, time feels like it’s always running out. So let me help you with this. It’ll be fun, I promise!”

Leaning closer, her grin turned mischievous. “And just imagine, once you recover and you will recover…you’ll start dancing again. When that happens, your followers will double. Triple, even! You have no idea how big social media is. Influencers are earning lakhs per month, Bhabhi. Just think about what that could mean for you. Your talent deserves a platform, and now you finally have one.”

I looked at her, torn between admiration and disbelief. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn’t the end. Maybe this could be the beginning of something else.

And then it clicked. A lakh of income per month?

“Are you serious?” I asked, turning to Rhea with raised eyebrows.

“Yes!” she replied, still scrolling through my phone with that ever-present enthusiasm. “If you collaborate with even one or two big brands, they’ll pay you a good amount for just a fewposts.” She looked up briefly. “Bhabhi, you’ve got so many DMs. You should at least check them. You might find something worth considering.”

“Rhea!” Mrs. Rathore's voice echoed from the living room, calling for her daughter.

“I’ll be right back,” Rhea chirped, handing me my phone as she headed out of the room with light steps.

Left alone, I stared at the screen. My inbox was flooded with messages. Most were from brands I recognized immediately: Myntra, Mamaearth, and Lakmé. Others came from smaller names I’d never heard of, likely trying to make their mark by collaborating with rising creators. It felt strange. Just a month ago, I was uploading dance clips without a second thought, and now I was receiving offers to promote beauty products and clothing.

As I scrolled absentmindedly, one particular message caught my eye and made my fingers freeze.

“Hey Avni, this is Prashant. How are you? I was so surprised to see how grown-up you’ve become. At first, I didn’t even recognize you in your photos. You have no idea how long I’ve been searching for you these last ten years. It was hard… we were so young when we were friends. I know you probably don’t remember me; I wasn’t someone important to you. But you were always a priority to me.”

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