CHAPTER 10 #2
“Oh no…” She immediately switched off the flame and turned, wiping her hands on her apron. “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry. I just returned from Lonavala yesterday, and between unpacking and resting, it slipped my mind.”
Komal stepped inside, shaking her head but smiling warmly. “Lonavala? That sounds like a pleasant distraction. Mr Wadhwa did find time to take you on a vacation then? I’m super glad he took this initiative.”
“Well, it was his friend’s birthday,” Mishti replied, smiling softly. “We stayed overnight at his farmhouse. All of Karan’s friends were there.”
Komal arched a brow. “I see. So, this was just a coincidence that he got an opportunity to take you out somewhere.”
Mishti’s smile faltered slightly, but she didn’t respond. Komal didn’t have to know that Karan didn’t even take her along and that she had to drive to Lonavala separately.
That’s when Karan’s voice rang from the living room, breaking her thoughts.
“Maria! Bring me some water.” Karan shouted.
“He’s back,” she murmured. “And Maria’s out. He doesn’t know. I’ll be right back, before his mood turns worse.”
Komal nodded. “Go on. I’ll fry the last two puris for you. If you don’t mind.”
Mishti smiled gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver, Komal.”
By the time Mishti carried a glass of water to the living room, her heart was already racing, not because she feared him, but because she never knew what version of Karan she’d face next. But when she reached there, the space was empty.
Almost.
Because standing comfortably by the couch, with a smirk firmly in place, was Kanika, dressed elegantly in a fitted pencil skirt and silk blouse. Mishti froze, instantly realising what that meant. Karan and Kanika had driven home together.
“Hey,” Kanika said with exaggerated surprise. “Didn’t know Karan replaced Maria with you. Nice upgrade.” She reached for the glass, took it from Mishti’s hand without waiting, and drank the water as if she owned the place.
The casual insult hit deeper than it should have.
Mishti’s knuckles whitened around the edge of her dupatta.
After their fight the previous night, she had made it clear to Karan to draw his boundaries with Kanika, to stop letting her walk so freely into their marriage if he didn’t like sharing his wife either.
But clearly, her words meant nothing to him.
He didn’t care. He still flaunted Kanika by his side, letting her cling to him, and Mishti was supposed to simply watch.
The thought burned more than she’d admit.
Still, this time, Mishti wasn’t going to let it go. “What is your problem, Kanika?”
“Problem?” Kanika laughed. “I don’t have a problem. You do. And you know what your problem is, Mishti? That even the housemaids get more respect than you in this house, don’t they?”
Saying that, Kanika turned to walk toward the staircase, but before she could, Mishti caught her wrist and pulled her firmly back to her spot.
Her actions shocked Kanika. Mishti had never raised her voice, never even protested before. This was new.
“Do you think I cannot respond to your foolish comments? I stay quiet because I respect my husband’s guests. And you,” she swallowed, “are Karan’s friend. So next time you come here, instead of reminding me of my importance, don’t provoke me to show you exactly what place you hold in this house.”
Kanika’s face turned red with anger. She certainly had not expected Karan’s soft-spoken wife to speak to her like that.
She shoved off Mishti’s arm and hissed, “I’m not just Karan’s friend, Mishti. I’m a lot more than that. So, you better stay away from us.”
And with that, she stormed inside furiously, straight toward Karan’s room as if she belonged there.
Watching Kanika disappear into Karan’s room stabbed her heart. Even as his wife, she never had that right… the right Kanika so shamelessly claimed.
Her throat burned with unshed tears, but just as she turned to leave back into the kitchen, she saw Komal near the hallway. By the expression on Komal’s face, it was clear that she had clearly heard everything.
For a moment, neither woman spoke.
Komal finally sighed and walked closer. “I had my doubts about where you’re really hurting. Today I just got the proofs.”
Mishti blinked rapidly to hide her tears, but failed.
“Look, Mishti…” Komal’s gaze softened. “I have no right to judge anyone, especially their personal life. But being a doctor, and someone who’s sworn to help people, there are some things I just can’t be blind to.”
Mishti shook her head.
“It’s not what you think,” Mishti said. “Kanika is Karan’s friend. She’s a bit too attached to him despite our marriage. That’s all.”
Komal folded her arms, studying her closely. “And what about Karan?” she asked gently. “You speak as if he’s the perfect husband, but tell me honestly, Mishti… can he really be that blind to whatever his so-called friend Kanika is doing?”
Mishti froze. She didn’t know how to defend him, not after everything Komal herself had seen and heard.
Komal stepped closer, resting a comforting hand on Mishti’s arm. “Ever since I’ve met you two, I’ve sensed it. You don’t seem happy. You try to paint him like he’s your world, but you can’t fool everyone. Especially not me.”
Mishti’s eyes teared as Komal continued. “If you’re not happy in this marriage, there’s no point in living like this. Have you ever thought about that?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, I know things aren’t in my favour right now… but I have a heart, Komal. Yes, it hurts when my husband treats me like I don’t exist. It hurts when he doesn’t even look at me. But don’t I have the right to try? To change his heart, to make him fall for me?”
Komal cupped her face gently. “Ssh… Mishti, listen to me. I understand what you mean. You want this marriage to work, and that’s admirable.
But think carefully, is it worth breaking yourself in the process?
There might come a day when you would regret holding on too long.
And that day, turning back won’t be easy. ”
“Maybe.” Mishti looked at her through misty eyes. “But for a woman like me, the man she’s married to… she doesn’t give up on him so easily. I won’t let him go without trying. Whatever effort I put in, I’m confident it’ll bring a change someday. I believe in God… and I believe God will guide me.”
Komal’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Fine. If that’s what you believe, then I’m with you. I’ll help you however I can.”
Just then, a voice echoed from the staircase. “Bring me a glass of orange juice,” Kanika ordered one of the housemaids.
Komal’s eyes darkened, then slowly gleamed with mischief. “You know what…” she said, tilting her head toward Mishti, “let’s make her the best orange juice she’s ever had.”
Mishti frowned in confusion, wiping her tears. “What do you mean?”
“I promised to help you, right? Well… consider this my first step.” She grabbed Mishti’s wrist and tugged her gently toward the kitchen.
Mishti followed, hesitant but curious. “Komal, what are you planning?”
“Something harmless. Just a little reminder for Madam Kanika that she’s not welcome everywhere.”
Komal reached for the spice rack and sprinkled a generous pinch of black pepper and a dash of salt into the orange juice glass.
“Komal!” Mishti gasped. “No! What if something goes wrong?”
“Relax. I’m a doctor, remember? A little pepper in juice won’t kill anyone. But yes, it’ll surely make her cough like a drama queen for two minutes.”
Mishti still didn’t look convinced. “But what if Karan finds out and gets angry?”
“He won’t,” Komal said, winking. “Now stop worrying and tell Maria to serve it.”
Maria had just returned home by then, so Mishti hesitantly handed her the tray. “Please take this orange juice to Kanika ma’am… she asked for it.”
The two women stayed in the kitchen, while secretly waiting for the chaos to begin.
“I’m scared, Komal,” Mishti whispered, wringing her hands.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mishti! You and your pure little heart. Just wait. Dr Komal’s plans never flop.” She flicked her hair dramatically, grinning.
But before Mishti could respond, a loud, harsh coughing sound came from the living room. It was deep, hoarse, and very much masculine.
Komal’s grin vanished. “Wait… that didn’t sound like Kanika.”
Mishti’s heart dropped. “Oh no… please don’t tell me Karan drank it instead.”
Komal’s eyes widened, then twinkled. “If he did… well, that’s what I call divine justice.”
Mishti gasped and lightly smacked her arm before rushing out toward the living room, with Komal following close behind.
But instead of Kanika or Karan, they froze at the sight of a tall, handsome man, around Karan’s age, standing near the couch, coughing violently while holding the now-empty glass of juice.