I sat on the cold bathroom floor, the steam curling around my body as water dripped from my fingertips. My phone still lay beside me, the screen dark now, but the words Jenna had spoken echoed inside me like thunder.
"He has a wife."
My throat felt like sandpaper. I didn't cry. I didn't even blink. Just… sat there. Completely hollow.
I couldn't eat. I didn't feel like facing anyone or anything. I threw on my silk nightgown and curled up in bed, the covers heavy over my chest. My room was perfectly temperature-controlled, the pillows fluffed, the silence wrapped around me — and still, sleep came with jagged edges.
I was walking down the college corridor, dressed just like I used to — jeans, my white kurti, and the same smile that didn't know it would be shattered soon.
People lined the hallway.
Some whispered. Some stared. Others laughed.
"Isn't she the one who got dumped?" "She begged him on her knees." "She even fainted once in class, remember?"
I kept walking, faster. My heart pounded.
Rhea stood by the noticeboard, grinning wickedly. Sana leaned against the door, holding her phone out. Meher smirked. Mocking. Cold.
"She actually thought she belonged here."
They laughed. Louder. Until it echoed in my ears like screaming.
I started to run — but my legs felt like lead. Like they were tied to the past.
I screamed—
—and woke up with a jolt.
The room was dark. My chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat clung to my back. It was just a dream. A goddamn dream. I rubbed my face and sat up straight.
"I hate this," I whispered to myself.
I dressed up and left for work early. My driver was already waiting. By 8:15 a.m., I was in my office on the top floor of the Aliza's HQ, sipping cold water to shake off the heaviness.
But someone was already sitting on my office sofa.
A man.
He looked about my age — tall, neatly dressed in a navy-blue suit, hair gelled back, with a confident posture.
My brows furrowed.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
Momma.
"Tarun will be there in your office to see you," her voice chirped. "Don't scare him off. He's the one your Tauji told your father about."
I stared at the stranger.
"He's already here," I muttered and hung up.
He stood up and smiled charmingly.
"Hi. Tarun Sethi," he extended a hand. "You must be Aliza. Wow… you're just as stunning as they said."
I gave him a brief handshake and sat at my desk.
"I must say," he continued, walking to the table, "I thought all this family-set-up thing was outdated, but now I get why they're trying so hard. You're intimidatingly successful."
I smiled politely.
"And intimidatingly quiet," he added with a grin.
"Because I have a lot of work."
"Fair. But we can multitask, can't we? I heard you like red wine and jazz. I can book a place for this weekend."
I picked up my phone and typed a quick message to Jenna:
"Come. Urgent meeting. Now."
He kept going.
"My friends said you might be unapproachable. But I like a challenge. You're... fascinating."
Just then, Jenna knocked.
"Ma'am, your meeting with the investors is about to start."
I stood up immediately. "Thank you, Jenna."
Tarun stood too, a little disappointed. "Guess we'll talk later, then?"
"Yes. Why not."
He smiled again, too smoothly for my liking, and left.
Once the door shut, Jenna looked at me and said with a teasing smirk, "Ma'am, at this pace, you'll end up single forever."
"I'm good single. Now do your job," I snapped, though not harshly.
Jenna adjusted her glasses. "Actually... I found quite a bit about Aryan."
That sentence changed everything.
She pulled out her tablet and swiped through several files and pictures.
"He owns three car garages across Jaipur. All doing decently well. One in his name, the other two under his wife's."
"Wife," I whispered.
"Yes, she's a government school teacher. Primary level. From a middle-class family. Simple. Sweet. They're expecting a child."
Jenna showed me a picture.
A wedding photo. Aryan in a cream sherwani. Her — the woman — in a red lehenga. Modest. Smiling.
Then another. Their first trip together — Pushkar. A camel ride, Aryan holding her hand.
Each image sliced a different part of my memory.
I leaned back, eyes fixed on the screen.
"What next, ma'am?" Jenna asked softly.
I didn't speak for a moment.
Then, "Keep digging. Friends, business associates, family, addresses. I want everything. After this week... we execute."
"Got it."
She walked to the door, then turned. "And… are you okay, ma'am?"
I nodded, then turned my chair toward the view.
"You may leave."
After she was gone, I tried to return to work — but my hands were shaking.
The images wouldn't leave my head. The laughter. The humiliation. The past.
I closed my laptop and took a deep breath.
But then it came.
The tightening in my chest. The dryness in my mouth. The flash of a memory.
I was in college again. I was walking into class. People stared. One of them dropped a note on my desk: "Desperate girl alert."
I gasped and clutched the edge of the desk. I was sweating. My ears were ringing.
It was an anxiety attack.
I fumbled for my anxiety meds in the drawer. Took a deep breath. And then another.
I tried to count. Five things I could see. Four things I could touch. Three things I could hear.
My breath slowed. Barely.
But I knew... This past wasn't just coming back.
It was crawling under my skin.