chapter 3

Mira sat in the car on the passenger seat, a little excited and nervous. It had been years since she had gone out of the village like this. She looked outside with fascination, the fields passing by-she had seen them many times before-but still, her eyes stayed there, then shifted to the roads, the boards, the small shops. Even while sitting in the car, her eyes kept dancing outside, reading every path name as if memorising the route somewhere deep in her consciousness.

"You like going out?" Vihaan asked as he noticed her interest.

"Yeah... in school we used to go on picnics and trips. Other than that, I had gone out with my family to many places," she said, but as soon as the words left her mouth, something heavy settled in her chest. She sighed, still looking outside.

Vihaan noticed it instantly. "Missing them?" he asked, taking a turn.

She hummed softly. "It's been years since I saw them," she said, then looked at him. "I-I mean... I can't see them anymore." She gave a small, sad smile before turning back to the window.

Vihaan chose not to say anything after that, letting her sit with her thoughts. The ride stretched longer than she had expected. She hadn't known it would take fourteen hours to reach Mumbai from their village. They had left early in the morning, around 4 a.m., and now it was already getting dark.

They hadn't talked much the whole way. They stopped once at a restaurant to eat and a few times for snacks, but neither of them slept, not even for a moment.

"Does he drive this long?" she asked after a while. "To reach home?"

"Who? Bhai?" Vihaan asked.

"Yeah."

He nodded slightly. "It's quite long."

"Then why not just come by train?" she asked. "It will be easy... or maybe bus."

Vihaan stayed quiet for a second, wondering if he could tell her why they never used public transport. "No," he said finally. "Bhai likes biking... and he hates crowded places."

"Oh," she replied, sighing softly. "I don't know much about him. It's weird... we are married and yet I only know what I have heard about him," she said, a quiet sadness settling in her voice as her eyes grew heavy.

"You can sleep if you want. I will wake you up when we reach," Vihaan said as he drove along the Marine Drive road.

"No," she said, looking ahead. The night sky illuminated the sea, making it a perfect view, but her eyes stayed on the road as if afraid she would forget the route.

Vihaan didn't speak further. Soon, her body gave up. She leaned against the window and fell asleep.

And as soon as she was out, Vihaan called his brother. On the third ring, the call connected.

"Bhaiya... we are near the villa. Where should we come?" he asked.

"I will send you the address," Dharam said. "Come there. I have arranged everything."

Vihaan took the turn as soon as he saw the address and drove the car in the opposite direction, toward a location safe enough for her to not doubt anything.

"Bhabhi... bhabhi, get up. We are here."

Mira stirred in her sleep as she heard Vihaan's voice. She blinked slowly and looked around, taking in where she was. She adjusted her dupatta over her head before stepping out of the car, her eyes moving over the flats around her. It wasn't new. She had lived in flats too... with her parents.

Vihaan took out the bags and looked at her. "Let's go."

"Where is he?" she asked as she followed him.

"At his office," Vihaan said.

"Shouldn't he have at least come downstairs?" she said in a low voice, more to herself-but his ears were sharp.

"He is busy. I had told you... he is still in the company."

Mira looked at him, confused. It was over 11 p.m. Which company treats their employees like mules? she thought.

"302..."

She paused in front of the room, her eyes fixed on the number for a second longer than needed. It looked more like a hotel room than an apartment. Maybe Mumbai flats are different, she told herself as she stepped inside.

Her eyes moved slowly across the place, taking in everything. Clean. Neat. Everything exactly in its place. The kitchen was spotless, not a single thing out of line. Everything... perfect. Too perfect. For a man who supposedly stayed in the office all day.

Vihaan walked to the fridge, took out a water bottle, and handed it to her. She took it absentmindedly, still looking around, when he spoke again. "I am going to sleep. I won't eat anything. If you want, order something."

Before she could say anything, he had already walked toward a room and shut the door, leaving her alone in the silence.

Her mind started racing again, one doubt layering over another. A soft glow fell on her face as she walked to the fridge and opened it, looking inside carefully this time. A half-drunk soda can. Snacks. Dahi. Vegetables.

But no leftovers.

"Maybe I am doubting it all for nothing, she thought.

She walked toward the room where Vihaan had gone and opened the door. He was asleep, fast, like he had dropped the moment his head touched the pillow. She quietly shut the door again and moved to the other room.

Inside, there was a small lamp by the bedside, a book kept neatly, a cupboard, hangers lined up, his shirts hanging on the door, and the air conditioner humming softly.

Her eyes moved over everything slowly, taking it all in, when her thoughts broke with the low sound of her stomach.

Food

Mira glanced at the watch hanging on the wall and sighed. Almost 11:30. Too tired to cook.

She walked back to the fridge, took out a fruit she had seen earlier, and ate it quietly. Then she sat down on a chair in the small space, her body finally giving in.

Maaji was right, she thought. He has everything here... everything he needs to live peacefully.

Tired from the long journey, Mira slowly fell asleep on the chair.

The next day, her eyes opened slowly. She blinked twice, trying to remember where she was, then sat up as faint sounds reached her ears. She followed them toward the kitchen and stopped.

He was there.

Dharam.

Pouring tea, already dressed in his office attire.

Her instincts took over before her thoughts could catch up. She walked straight to him. "Move aside," she said, taking the strainer from his hand. "You could have woken me up," she added as she strained the tea.

Her eyes shifted to the stove. A half-burnt paratha was cooking. She quickly put it aside and started making another one.

Dharam went still. Completely still. His eyes stayed on her.

She had just pushed him aside.

And didn't even realise it.

"You were asleep," he said in his usual cool, aloof tone, stepping back and letting her handle things.

"Yeah... but you could have woken me up," she said, turning toward him, then pausing as realisation slowly settled in. She finally looked at him properly-shirt tucked in, black pants, clean black shoes, his sharp features calm and detached, like he owed nothing to anyone.

Which... was true.

She looked away as she felt his gaze on her. "Sorry," she said softly. "I-I was sleepy..." trying to cover what she had just done.

He hummed in response and walked past her toward the small sitting area where Vihaan was already ready for the day.

"You will stay here," Dharam said. "Take care of her. And let me know if you need anything."

The words were simple, but the meaning was clear.

Don't let her go out.

Vihaan nodded firmly, understanding without needing anything more.

Mira walked out with a plate of paratha and tea and placed it in front of Dharam, then stood there quietly, watching him eat. An awkward silence settled between them, heavy with things unsaid.

"Why did you suddenly decide to come?" he asked.

Mira looked at him, slightly shocked. He was initiating a conversation.

"I... just wanted to see where you live," she said. "And... maybe visit Mumbai."

Dharam paused for barely a second before looking at her again. His wife. Five-foot-three, soft features, calm, kind-completely opposite of him-and suddenly she wanted to come here.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

Mira looked at him instantly. "Anywhere. I haven't gone anywhere in a long time."

He thought for a moment, then looked at Vihaan. "No. You can't. You will go back to the village after two days. Until then, stay here. It's not safe outside."

Mira looked at him, then lowered her gaze. "Ji..." Her voice was soft, hurt, like an obedient child who had just been refused.

"You are supposed to take care of my parents," he continued. "Not decide you want to go somewhere."

Mira's eyes lifted. "I am also supposed to take care of you," she said. "I married you."

Vihaan stilled. He looked at her, then at Dharam, and quietly got up and walked to his room, as if he already knew what was about to happen.

Dharam stood and stepped closer, towering over her. "You are supposed to do as I ask," he said.

Mira held his gaze. For once, she didn't look away. She was done. At least for now. The weight of this marriage had started to numb her.

"I am doing what you ask," she said. "But do you ever think about what I want?" Her voice didn't shake. "You stay here all the time, and I stay with your parents. I don't mind it... but we are like strangers."

Her eyes didn't leave his. "I know nothing about you. What you like, what you eat... nothing."

"There is no need to know," Dharam said, his gaze hardening slightly as her obedient-wife image cracked for the first time.

"There is," she said quietly. "If you want us to have a happy marriage... then there is."

Dharam didn't say anything immediately. He just stood there looking at her properly this time, not the quiet girl who just listened, not the simple wife his family had picked, but her like this, speaking back. Something shifted in his eyes, very slight but there.

"You talk a lot today," he said, his tone the same as always, calm... too calm.

Mira didn't move. "Maybe I just wasn't heard before."

That made his jaw tighten a little, not in anger, more like control. "You don't need to think so much. Things are fine the way they are."

"Fine for you," she said.

That made him pause again. For a second he just looked at her, like he was trying to place something, understand where this was coming from.

"You're getting affected staying alone too much," he said.

Mira almost laughed at that, almost, but didn't. "I am not alone," she said quietly, "I'm just not with my husband."

Silence stretched between them. This time he didn't look away quickly. He kept looking, longer than before, like measuring her, calculating something.

"You should rest," he said finally.

A clear dismissal, but not as cold as before. Mira noticed it but didn't say anything. She stepped aside and he walked past her toward the door, then stopped for a second.

"Don't open anything in this house that doesn't concern you."

There it was.

Mira's fingers curled slightly at her side. "Then maybe you should tell me what concerns me," she said.

He didn't reply. He just walked out.

But this time it wasn't indifference.

He was thinking.

And that... was new.

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