33 ~ Desparate Samaira
Chahat's POV.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"No..." The word barely left my lips.
My mind immediately went back to everything I had spent the last few days.
My heart began pounding.
I zoomed into the photograph, searching for something, that could tell me when it had been taken or what was actually happening but all I could see was Kartik and Samaira.
Together.
My stomach twisted.
It was as though someone had reached inside my chest and pulled every doubt I had buried straight back to the surface.
My eyes burned.
I locked my phone and pressed it against my chest, desperately trying to calm myself.
And no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't stop wondering what he had been doing with Samaira.
I looked at the photo again and couldn't make out what was happening between them.
The image wasn't clear enough for that. But their faces were recognizable, and the closeness alone was enough to make something inside me collapse.
My phone suddenly began ringing.
I blinked before answering.
"Hello?"
"Chahat, Kartik se meri baat karaona. Mera phone lag nahi raha hai."
(Chahat, get Kartik to talk to me. My phone is not reachable.)
Ayaan.
His voice sounded casual at first.
I laughed bitterly.
"Woh ghar kyun aayega? Woh toh Samaira ke saath hai."
(Why would he come home? He's with Samaira.)
Silence.
A long, confused silence.
"Kya?"
(What?)
I could hear the disbelief in his voice. "Lekin... Tumhe kaise pata?"
(But... how do you know?)
My anger immediately returned. "Ye tum Kartik se poochho."
(You should ask Kartik about this.)
I ended the call.
Another notification appeared.
My heart sank when I opened it.
I told you. He's mine. He'll always be mine.
My vision blurred.
I clenched my eyes shut.
Why was this hurting so much?
I didn't love Kartik. I had told myself that repeatedly.
Then why did the thought of him being with another woman feel like someone had ripped something out of my chest?
Before I could answer myself, Ayaan called again.
This time, I answered with irritation.
"Kya hai?"
(What is it?)
"Chahat, please listen to me. Kartik is missing. Please tell me how do you know that Kartik is with Samaira?"
"He's not missing. He's hanging out with her. She herself told me."
"Samaira?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where they are?"
"No." I paused. "And I don't want to know."
"Chahat, please." His voice had changed. There was urgency in it now. "Just call her. Ask her where she is."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I need to know her location."
"Why are you so desperate to find them? They're both adults, Ayaan. Whatever they're doing is between them." I yelled in anger.
"Please, Chahat. Just do this once."
I didn't understand his desperation but something about his voice made me hesitate.
Finally, I sighed.
"Fine."
I added him to the call and dialled Samaira.
She answered after several rings.
"What do you want?" Her voice was strangely composed.
I swallowed my anger. "Where are you?"
A small laugh came from the other end. "You really think I'll tell you?"
"I don't care where you are."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because I want to know where my husband is."
Her voice immediately sharpened. "Your husband?"
I could almost hear the bitterness in her laugh. "He was never yours."
My fingers tightened around the phone. "Where is he?"
"I won't tell you."
"Samaira..."
"You'll come and take him away from me again." Her voice became increasingly emotional. "I won't let you do that this time. You already have everything. You have his name, his house, his family... and now you want him too?"
Something about her words felt disturbingly obsessive.
She ended the call.
I lowered my phone slowly. For a moment, nobody spoke then Ayaan's voice came through the conference call.
"She's in an office building."
My eyebrows knitted together.
"What?"
"I've got the location." He sent me the address.
I stared at it.
I searched about it. It was Samaira's office.
My confusion only deepened.
Why would Kartik be there? And if she really had him...
why was she so desperate to convince me that he belonged to her?
Why send me photographs?
Why provoke me?
I looked at the photograph again.
My heart was still aching, but now something else had begun to replace the hurt.
Suspicion.
I didn't know what was happening but I needed answers.
I ended the call, grabbed my phone and hurried downstairs.
I didn't bother explaining anything to anyone.
Within minutes, I was sitting inside a cab, staring at the address Ayaan had sent me.
The entire journey, my mind kept replaying the photograph.
The cab finally stopped outside the building.
I looked up. The office was still lit despite the late hour.
My heart began pounding.
He must be here.
I stepped out of the cab. For one brief moment, fear made me stop then I tightened my grip around my phone and walked toward the entrance.
Whatever I found inside...Kartik was going to answer me tonight.
It was late enough that most of the building had gone silent. Only a few lights remained illuminated on the upper floors. My fingers tightened around my phone as I looked at the entrance.
I stepped toward the entrance, but the security guard immediately moved in front of me.
"Ma'am, you can't go inside without authorization."
I opened my mouth, ready to argue, when another man hurried toward the entrance, holding his phone and looking completely lost.
"Excuse me, sir, this address..." he began, showing the guard something on his screen.
The guard turned toward him.
That was my chance. I quietly stepped sideways and slipped through the entrance before either of them noticed.
My heart was hammering.
I quickly moved behind one of the large reception counters and crouched down.
A second later, I heard the guard's voice.
"Woh ladki kahan gayi?"
(Where did that girl go?)
My breath caught.
The man with the phone immediately asked, sounding impatient.
"Aap please mujhe ye address bataenge jaldi? Mujhe already late ho raha hai."
(Will you please tell me the address quickly? I'm already running late.)
I stayed completely still until their voices moved farther away then I slowly crawled out from beneath the counter.
The reception area was almost completely dark. Only emergency lights illuminated portions of the corridor, leaving long stretches swallowed by shadows.
I held my phone close to my chest and began walking.
I didn't even know exactly where I was going.
I only knew that I had to find him.
I passed through one corridor after another, checking every room I could see through the glass panels. Most offices were empty. Some contained nothing but desks and chairs. Others were completely dark.
"Kartik..." I whispered under my breath.
I kept moving then I heard something.
A woman's voice.
I froze.
It came from somewhere ahead.
I slowly moved toward it, every step careful and silent.
Another sound followed.
A low groan.
My stomach dropped.
I stopped outside a dimly lit glass door.
For a moment, I couldn't make myself look inside. I was terrified of what I might see but eventually, I forced myself to glance through the glass and my entire body went still.
Samaira was there.
She had Kartik pressed against the wall, one arm around him as though she was trying to keep him upright but something was terribly wrong.
Kartik wasn't standing properly.
His head was tilted slightly, his breathing uneven. One hand was pressed against his temple while the other seemed to struggle for support against the wall.
He looked disoriented and weak.
Nothing like the Kartik I knew.
Samaira's face was close to his.
"Bas karo Kartik," she murmured, her voice unnervingly soft. "Don't fight it."
(Stop it Kartik.)
He tried to move away. His knees seemed to buckle but she caught him.
"Ssshhh... you can't even stand properly."
He groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut. "Leave..." His voice was barely audible.
My heart lurched.
She smiled faintly. "You don't mean that."
He shook his head, trying to focus.
"Chahat..."
My breath stopped. He was saying my name.
Her expression hardened.
"Don't take her name."
He seemed unable to respond. He swallowed with difficulty, his breathing still uneven.
"You're confused right now," Samaira whispered, her one hand cupping his face, "Just stay with me. I'll make you feel better."
She tightened her hold around him.
I stared through the glass, completely frozen.
This wasn't what I had expected.
This didn't look like two people secretly meeting.
Kartik looked sick.
Drugged.
And for the first time since I had seen that photograph, the anger inside me was replaced by something far more frightening.
Fear.
What had Samaira done to him?
She dragged him toward the couch and forced him down onto it. He sank into the cushions heavily, his breathing ragged, one hand gripping the edge of the seat as though he needed it to keep himself grounded.
He was sweating profusely.
Strands of his hair had fallen across his forehead, and his face looked unnaturally flushed. Even from behind the glass, I could see how badly he was struggling.
He was sitting on the couch, his body slumped, his face pale and glistening with sweat. His chest was heaving, his breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. His hands were gripping the armrests, his knuckles white.
He looked like he was fighting something.
Fighting himself.
Samaira was standing in front of him.
She was wearing a tight, revealing dress, her hair perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. She looked like she had been waiting for this moment.
She crouched in front of him and reached for his face. "Look at me."
She cupped his cheeks.
He immediately pushed her hand away.
"Don't you fucking dare..."
The words came out rough, barely more than a breath.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch.
A strained groan escaped him and she moved closer.