Page 94 of Mrs. Pandey
Before she could reply, I pushed past her, storming into the quarter. My feet moved faster than my mind, carrying me straight to his room.
And there he was.
Prashant.
Lying half-naked on the bed, his chest rising and falling in deep, careless sleep. The sheets tangled around him. On the floor, discarded were Riddhima's clothes, her trousers, her blouse, even her undergarments, resting shamelessly next to his.
My stomach twisted violently. I clapped a hand over my mouth, shaking my head as though denial could rewrite the scene. No. No. God, no.
Riddhima appeared behind me. "Actually..."
"What was going on here?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper.
Her tone turned sharp, defensive. "Who are you asking this question to? And how could you walk into someone's house like this?"
I spun toward her, rage igniting through my grief. "How dare you walk into my husband's life?" The words tore from me before I could stop them, and immediately I regretted it. Regretted even calling that man my husband, when he...
My gaze swept over her. The tousled hair. The swollen lips. The way the shirt hung loosely, no bra beneath it. Every detail screamed the truth I didn't want to face.
They had just had sex.
I couldn't breathe.
Without another word, I turned and fled. My feet carried me out of the room, out of the quarters, out of that suffocating truth. The night air slapped against my wet cheeks as I ran.
He cheated on me. He let another woman in his life.
The signs had always been there, hadn't they? From the day Riddhima re-entered his world, something had shifted. I was too blind, too foolish, to see it.
He never loved me. If he loved me once, he would never have hurt me like this.
I stumbled to a halt, crouching on the pavement, gasping for breath. My tears blurred everything, streaming hot and relentless. I scrubbed my cheeks angrily, but they wouldn't stop. They poured, unstoppable, as though mocking my weakness.
God, I hate crying.
It felt like karma. Like the universe had finally turned its blade on me. I cheated on Aryan, and now my husband cheated on me.
The heavens cracked with thunder, and then the rain came. The sheets of water poured down, soaking my hair, my dress, and my skin. But I didn't move. I let it drench, let it hide my tears.
I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Prashant's half-naked body tangled in the sheets.
My burgundy dress clung to me coldly. The same dress I had chosen for him, thinking it would make him smile. The cookies I had baked felt like a cruel joke now, a box of sweetness for a man who had already chosen bitterness.
My chest felt hollow, carved open. I wanted to scream, to tear the sky apart, but only ragged sobs escaped me.
How many nights had I waited for his call? How many times had I convinced myself that his silence was space, not abandonment? That his distance was discipline, not rejection?
And all along, he had her.
I dug my nails into my palms until pain burned through the numbness. The image of his body against hers formed in my mind until I thought I would choke. My stomach convulsed again, but there was nothing left inside me, only grief.
The thunder roared again. I tilted my head back, letting the storm wash over me, as though it could strip me clean. But rain couldn't wash away the betrayal. It couldn't erase guilt. It couldn't fix love.
Love. The word itself soured on my tongue.
Maybe this was punishment. Maybe I was only living the life I had carved with my own sins. I had betrayed Aryan. Now Prashant had betrayed me.
But knowing that didn't lessen the pain. It hollowed me out, left me gasping.
