CHAPTER 11
ANIKA
I’m not really big on jewelry, but Maa and Bhabhi insisted that I should have some.
I couldn't say no, especially to Bhabhi—her mood swings have been.
.. intense lately. She starts crying over the smallest things.
I don't blame her; pregnancy hormones are no joke.
Still, I can't help but wonder how Rudraksh Bhaiya handles her without losing his mind.
Just thinking about it makes me want to laugh.
I have grown closer to her in the past few days.
We spend most of our time together after all.
Maa holds up a delicate gold necklace, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“What do you think, Anika? This will look lovely on you,” she says, her voice warm and full of affection.
Before I can answer, Bhabhi leans over, her face scrunching up in a cute little frown. “No, let's pick something in diamonds. It would suit her more," she says with so much conviction that I almost believe her.
I look between the two of them, feeling slightly overwhelmed.
Both pieces are beautiful. Honestly, I don't care which one I end up wearing.
Jewelry isn't really my thing. I believe in minimal accessories, so I just nod, pretending like I'm actually considering their opinions, not wanting to hurt their feelings.
“They both look great,” I say, offering them a polite smile. “You both can decide. I’ll be happy either way.”
“It’s for you, Anika. You should like it. That’s what matters," Bhabhi says softly.
Maa nods too, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she watches the two of us.
"You two remind me of old times," Maa says suddenly, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
"When I first came to this house, Anjali didi was just like Shivani—so kind and patient.
And I was so much like you, Anika. So lost." She laughs, the sound light and a little bittersweet.
She reaches out and pats Bhabhi's head gently.
"You'll find your way too, beta," she adds, looking straight at me, her eyes shining with affection.
A lump forms in my throat. Hearing Maa compare us to her and Badi Maa... it hits me harder than I expect. Somewhere deep down, it feels nice. It makes me believe, even if just for a second, that maybe I can belong here. Maybe I can have a place in this family.
I reach out and take the necklace Maa is holding. As I clasp it around my neck, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For a fleeting moment, I see a future I didn't dare imagine—a version of me who fits here, who belongs.
But just as quickly, reality slams into me like a punch to the gut.
What am I even thinking? This... this is temporary.
I’m only here for six months. It’s not real.
Aarav hates me. And sure, maybe I have feelings for him—feelings I refuse to admit even to myself—but I'd never force myself into someone’s life.
He deserves to be with someone he actually chooses, someone he actually wants.
Maybe he married me out of pity. Maybe it was for my mother’s sake.
Either way, I won’t let myself get attached.
I won't be the girl who clings to a man who doesn’t want her.
Especially not a man who couldn't bother replying to a single one of my letters in twelve years.
Twelve years. I waited, hoping he'd reach out.
And he forgot about me like I was just some imaginary friend he once had.
Yes, I could’ve reached out; I know that.
Once I started earning, once I had a little stability, there was nothing stopping me—except me.
Because I knew where he lived, I could have dropped by, but by then, I’d already swallowed enough silence to last a lifetime.
Reaching out felt like reopening a door he’d clearly shut.
What if he’d moved on? What if I was nothing more than a forgotten memory, not worth a reply, let alone a place in his life?
So I didn’t. Not because I didn’t want to talk to him, but because I didn’t want to beg.
“Anika,” Maa calls me, pulling me out of my thoughts. My eyes sting with tears, but I quickly blink them away.
"This looks beautiful, Maa," I say, forcing a smile onto my face. She beams and nods at the salesman to pack it. Then she casually hands over a sleek black card. My stomach twists with guilt. I hate letting her pay. It feels wrong, like I’m taking advantage of her kindness.
She sees me as her daughter-in-law... but she doesn't know that this marriage—this entire relationship—has an expiry date.
But what choice do I have? My savings are meant for Maa’s treatment. Every penny. I don't even have a job yet. Maybe I’ll find a freelancing gig soon. I have to. I can't depend on them more than necessary.
“Let’s go!” Maa says cheerfully, clapping her hands once.
“Chachi, can I go home? My legs are aching,” Bhabhi asks and complains at the same time, pouting adorably.
“Of course, beta. We’ll come shopping another day,” Maa says instantly, smiling at her.
“No, no! You guys continue, please!” Bhabhi protests, looking genuinely guilty as Maa helps her.
"It’s okay, Bhabhi. We should go home," I say quickly before Maa can argue. Bhabhi shouldn’t feel guilty over this. Plus I don't want to continue either.
Maa nods in agreement. Bhabhi’s eyes immediately well up with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffles, looking like a scolded child.
Maa sighs dramatically and facepalms. "You idiot, we’re not going back because of you! We’re tired too!" she exclaims, shaking her head.
I can’t help but laugh softly. Maa’s reactions are so genuine, so full of life. It’s impossible not to feel comfortable around her. Bhabhi still looks unconvinced, though, her pout deepening like a child being told they can’t have ice cream.
Maa rolls her eyes with mock exasperation. "Come on, Anika. I’m seriously pitying Raksh right now. Poor guy!" she says, chuckling.
"Hawww, Chachi! I’m the one who’s suffering!" Bhabhi says dramatically, clutching her chest.
Their playful bickering makes me smile wider than I have in days. I walk behind them quietly, watching them laugh and tease each other like family should. And yet... despite the warmth curling in my chest, there’s a sharp, aching edge to it every time I think I want this or I want to fit in.
But how can I? Knowing my time here is running out? Knowing that I’m just... temporary?
I swallow hard, keeping my face neutral, hiding every emotion that threatens to spill over. I can’t afford to get attached. Not again. I survived heartbreak once. I’m not sure I can survive it a second time.