Chapter 38
IRA
Finally, it was the day when Prashant and I were returning to our duties in Barmer.
My heart felt light yet restless. I was excited, almost impatient to share this new chapter of my life with him.
There was something about the way Prashant had begun to look at me again, almost like he used to three years ago, that made me feel both nostalgic and hopeful.
What I didn’t like, however, was the confession I had made last night. It had slipped out, raw and unplanned. I told him I loved him. The words hung in the air, fragile and trembling, and for a moment he just stared at me, shocked, almost as if the thought had never even occurred to him.
Before I could read his expression properly or hear a response, his phone rang. He excused himself and picked it up; it was his mother. From the tone of his voice, I could tell it wasn’t a casual call.
It turned out she wanted him to pick her up from her sister’s house in the middle of the night.
She said she couldn’t stand staying there a minute longer.
I know it sounds petty, but I couldn’t help feeling a stab of irritation.
She had, without knowing, ruined the tiny window of intimacy I had been craving with her son.
I just wanted an answer, a sign whether Prashant loved me too.
But the moment was gone. Maybe he was still processing it, maybe too shocked to speak, or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.
His expression had been unreadable, like a closed book with no title.
We reached the Barmer in the evening and reported in at the office.
The familiar dust, the golden sunset, the slow hum of the place, it all felt like stepping back into an old photograph.
I headed to my quarters, threw open the windows to let in the dry desert breeze, and began cleaning. It was a ritual, almost therapeutic.
By the time the place looked like mine again, I decided to make dinner for two.
I wanted it to feel special, so I set the table with care, placed the plates just so, and even lit a small candle.
I chose a nice dress, nothing too flashy, just something that made me feel soft and beautiful. Then I sat down to wait for my husband.
I glanced at the clock as it was half past seven. Still some time. To pass it, I reached for my phone and opened my private folder. There they were, the photos and videos from three years ago, when Prashant and I were in the same unit.
I smiled when I saw one where Prashant stood behind me, grinning like he had just played a prank.
Another was from the restaurant we went to that rainy evening.
Then the hills, God, I could almost smell the pine trees and hear the crunch of gravel under our boots.
My thumb swiped again, and there he was in his parade uniform.
I zoomed in. His face looked different then as it looked unburdened.
No shadows in his eyes, no tightness in his smile, just pure, unfiltered innocence.
And I realised how much I missed that version of him. The man before the walls, before the distance, before us.
Why had I rejected him? What would have happened if I had gathered enough courage to reject Aryan instead? I should have done that. I should never have let Prashant go.
The more I scrolled, the more I lost myself.
I saw videos of our treks, our tours, the rides where we laughed like reckless teenagers.
I listened to the way his voice sounded when he called my name.
I noticed the way his hand would always find mine without thinking.
I played each memory like it was a scene from a movie I’d once lived in but could never step back into.
I was so deep in the past that I didn’t notice how the minutes turned into an hour. The candle had burned low, the food was cooling, and the room was still empty.
I checked the time as it was half past eight and Prashant still hadn’t arrived. Without a second thought, I called him, but there was no answer. I tried again but still nothing.
Frowning, I looked at the table. The food had gone cold, almost as if it were staring back at me with mockery. I was no longer hungry. With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and flopped down onto the bed.
For a few moments, I stared at my phone, scrolling aimlessly until a photo of Prashant popped up on the screen. It was him in one of those candid shots where he wasn’t posing, just smiling. It should have made me smile too, but instead my lips fell into a flat line. He hadn’t come home. ______
When I woke up, it was four in the morning. The emptiness beside me in bed only made the silence louder. I threw on my jogging pants and shoes, stepped outside into the crisp desert air, and started running. The steady rhythm of my feet hitting the ground was the only thing that cleared my mind.
As usual, I followed my run with yoga, then cardio, then a long, warm shower. By the time I made myself breakfast, I felt physically awake, but inside I was still restless.
I checked my phone, half-hoping to see a missed call or even a simple text from him, but the screen was empty. Disappointment rolled over me like cold water.
Didn’t he wonder why I called him twice last night? Or maybe he knew and didn’t care.
I decided to ignore the thought. I put on my uniform and headed to the office. When I glanced at the ground floor on my way in, I didn’t see Prashant. I checked his office, but it was also empty.
Fine. He must have been busy. That’s what I told myself. That’s why he hadn’t called me back.
The day dragged on. It had been more than two months since I last sat behind my desk for a proper stretch of time, so my body wasn’t used to it anymore. I found myself taking small walks now and then just to break the monotony.
Around noon, I wandered over to the window and froze. Prashant was outside, talking to a woman officer. She was smiling, standing closer to him than I would have liked.
Is she recently transferred here? I wondered. I haven’t met her yet but she seemed a little too close to Prashant for my liking.
Who the hell was she?
My jaw tightened as I turned away and went back to my seat. But then I heard low murmurs from outside.
“When sir escaped from captivity, doctor Riddhima Kashyap was the one who treated him. I heard they have been pretty close since then,” a man’s voice said from outside my office.
I stilled, leaning slightly toward the door. Were they talking about her?
“I heard Captain is married now,” another voice chimed in.
“Who cares about his wife when no one even knows the Captain is married?” the first man laughed.
That was enough. I stepped out, and both of them straightened immediately, saluting me. Without another word, they walked away.
They didn’t know I was married to Prashant. He hadn’t told them. He hadn't told any of them.
But why? I thought he would be happy to apply for a spouse quarter the moment we returned. Instead, he was ignoring me and keeping our marriage a secret.
Was he embarrassed to admit I was his wife?
It was seven in the evening, but I was still in my office. I told myself I was catching up on work, but the truth was I was waiting for him. I needed answers. I needed answers from my husband.
An hour later, Prashant finally stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, almost as if I were just another officer.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked flatly without any hint of emotion.
I kept my tone calm. “I was waiting for you yesterday so we could have dinner together, but you didn’t even answer my calls.”
“I was busy,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of coldness.
“Okay.” I stood, holding his gaze. “Are you not going to apply for a spouse quarter?”
“I tried,” he said. “But there’s no availability at the moment. Maybe in a couple of months. Anything else?” he asked like he couldn't wait to get away from me.
His detached tone made my chest tighten. “People still don’t know we’re married.”
“Do you want me to announce it on television?” he scoffed. “Maybe I should give an ad in the newspaper…Captain Pandey marries Ira Solanki. Would that make you happy? Seriously, Ira?”
“At least they...” I began, but he cut me off.
“I have to go to the field. Maybe we should talk about it later.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out.
I stared at the doorway long after he was gone. He’d changed completely in just one day. I had told myself he was busy, but now, I could hear it in his voice.
He was ignoring me. Coldly.
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