CHAPTER 48
ANIKA
The message stares back at me from my screen like it’s about to explode.
Mumma:
Come home. Bring Aarav.
No emoji. No “beta.” No warm exclamation mark. Just… cold. It doesn’t feel like her. It feels like a stranger wearing her name.
She sends me fifteen-minute voice notes about some aunty's dal recipe and insists I send a photo of every outfit before stepping out.
And now this? No emojis. No heart. Not even a "beta.
" Just… instructions. I’ve read it five—no, six—times now, each time hoping maybe I imagined the tone, maybe the next read will soften it, make it sound more like her.
But no. It stays the same. Sharp. Distant.
I tried calling her. Of course I did. But she didn’t pick up. Not once.
Each unanswered call made the dread grow louder in my head. Was she okay? Did something happen?
I panicked and dialed the nurse. My heart was thudding so loud I barely heard her say, “She’s fine.” Apparently, Mumma told her she’d only talk to me face-to-face.
Which makes everything worse. Because when has she ever…?
I can’t sit still. My leg bounces as I stare at the message again, chewing my thumbnail.
Finally, I tap Aarav’s name and call.
He picks up before the first ring even finishes. “Missing me already, wifey?” Was he sitting on the phone? His voice makes something flutter in my chest. That damn flutter. I hate it. I love it.
“Maybe a little,” I mumble, staring at the message again. But I don't think I am in a mood to romance, so before he can comment on something, I speak. “Listen, Mumma texted. She wants to meet us both.”
He’s quiet for a second. “Okay… when?”
“When you’re free, could you please—”
“Wait.” He cuts me off. "One, I am always free for you, Anika; keep that in mind.
" My heart races. Why does he have to say things like that?
"Two, did you just say please?" I frown.
"You're not allowed to do that. There's no please, thank you, or sorry from your side in this relationship.
Those are words that only I will use, okay?
" A small smile appears on my lips, and I shake my head.
If I die early, the reason would be my husband and his stupid, cheesy lines that anyone else ever speaking would have earned a glare from me, but apparently it makes me feel giddy inside when it's him.
"Shut up," I mumble as I bite back a smile. I hate how he does this—how he makes the anxiety shrink with just a few words. Like some annoying wizard.
“I’ll pick you up in fifteen.” He says, and I can hear his smile in his voice.
“No,” I say quickly. “I’ll come with the driver. Just meet me there.”
“Why? Let me pick you up." He whines, "That way I will get more time to spend with my wife.”
I laugh under my breath. “Are you a child?” Shaking my head at his antics.
“Nope,” he says smoothly, “just a man obsessed with his wife.”
God, he’s stupid. Stupid and charming and swoon-worthy and annoying.
“Aarav,” I say with mock exasperation, “just reach on time, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles, and I end the call.
I walk into the closet and put on a short pink kurti and denim jeans.
I tie my hair up in a pony and give myself a last look in the mirror.
I call Jayesh Bhaiya and ask him to bring the car to the front door.
I race down the stairs and inform Badi Maa and Bhabhi, who are sitting in the living room, that I am going to my mother’s house, and they give me a smile.
I rush out and get into the car, my mind wandering.
What would have happened for Mumma to message me and not call? And to call me with Aarav?
The city blurs past me as I try to distract myself with the new coloring game I had downloaded recently. Childish, yes. But also calming.
The car comes to a halt, and I get out, and there he is.
Leaning against the car, sleeves rolled up, forearms on full sinful display like some Greek god who shops at Zara. His hair’s a little messy, like he ran his hand through it, and his shirt is slightly wrinkled at the collar—but somehow that only makes him hotter.
My ovaries are about to file a complaint. This is unfair.
He catches me staring and smirks, his entire face lighting up like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. And he does. I know he’s about to say something stupid that’ll make me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.
But before he can open that smug mouth—the door opens.
Mumma. I forget everything. I rush to her and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder. It’s been a month since I saw her. A month of texts and calls and missing her warm hugs. But right now—she doesn’t hug me back.
I freeze and pull back slowly. She’s staring between me and Aarav. She looks hurt… Maybe disappointed?
I glance at Aarav. His jaw tightens slightly. He feels it too—the shift in the air.
“Come on in,” Mumma says, her voice flat.
I step inside, stomach curling. Something’s off. Something’s really, really off.
And then I see Maa. Sitting on our couch like she owns the place, sipping tea from Mumma’s favorite cup. What the hell is going on?
My breath catches. I instinctively move closer to Aarav. He’s already tensed beside me, like a soldier walking into unfamiliar territory.
“Sit,” Maa says sharply, and it’s not a suggestion; it’s an order. So unlike the kind of her I have always seen.
Aarav and I sit down side by side, his hand immediately finding mine. His fingers squeeze mine lightly—steadying, reassuring, as if he is saying he is here with me, for me. I grip them back, grounding myself. His presence makes the rising panic in my chest bearable.
“How long are you two going to pretend?” Maa says finally, her voice low and cold.
I frown. What does that mean? “Pretend what, Maa?”
Aarav leans forward slightly. “What do you mean?”
Mumma finally speaks, voice quiet. “Don’t you think you’re hiding something from us?”
I look at her, and I feel like a child again—caught in something I don’t understand. “Mumma, I—”
“Can you guys please tell us what’s happening?” Aarav cuts in, frustration seeping into his voice. “Because this… this feels like an interrogation.”
Maa scoffs. “This is not an interrogation. This is just two mothers who’ve been betrayed, trying to understand why the people they love did something so—so reckless.”
I am trying to decipher what they are saying, but it won’t make sense. Why are they creating so much suspense? Mumma looks at me, eyes glistening. “Did you guys actually marry for six months?”
Oh. Oh shit. My lungs feel like they stop working. Aarav stiffens next to me. They know. How? What will we do now? How will we get out of this? “Mumma,” I whisper, but it’s too late.
“So it’s true,” she breathes, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Was it because I was forcing you both?”
She moves as if to stand, but I rush to her, reaching for her hands—but she steps back, sitting down again. My fingers close around the air.
“Mumma, please—”
“I’m so sorry, Naina,” Mumma says, turning to Maa with folded hands. “I didn’t mean for my words to push them into something like this. I—”
Maa puts her cup down, moving to sit beside Mumma, taking her hands gently.
“No, Rekha. Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. These two grown-ups were being idiots.”
Her gaze snaps to us, sharp and burning. I can feel Aarav inhale deeply beside me.
“Maa—” he begins.
“Quiet,” she snaps. “There can’t be any other reason for such stupidity.
You think this is just about you? This isn’t just betrayal—it’s humiliation.
” She turns to look at me. “What will people say, Anika? Life is not easy for a woman in this society anyways, and you will be a divorcee. First Vikram left you at the aisle, and now you’ll divorce?
” Her voice rises a little, her words making me flinch.
“I’m not divorcing Anika,” Aarav says suddenly, his voice loud and firm, making all of us go silent.
My head turns sharply toward him. He’s staring at my mother, jaw clenched. “She is my wife. And she will always be.”
“Yes?” Maa raises her brows and stands. “Then why did you sign a contract?”
My stomach drops. “How do you know?” I whisper.
“Is that what you care about?” Mumma shouts, her voice breaking, and she coughs. I immediately offer her water, but she doesn’t take it from me. Anita rushes in with a glass of water, and she finally drinks it, calming down a bit.
“You were drunk on Holi,” Maa says. “You told me.” I feel my eyes sting, so this is all happening because of me. I don’t look up to see Aarav. We had everything in control, and I had to go ahead and ruin everything. I have to fix this somehow.
“We signed the contract…” I whisper, feeling a lump form in my throat, “Because… because I couldn’t risk Mumma’s health again. After everything, I couldn’t.”
“But now,” I whisper, heart pounding, “now I want him to be my husband.”
My voice trembles, but I mean every word. I turn to look at Aarav. His eyes are already on me—soft and steady, like he’s been waiting for me to speak. I turn back to face them both. “We’ve accepted this marriage. I don’t want a divorce either.”
Aarav’s hand tightens around mine. That one gesture makes something inside me settle. Gratitude. Hope. Something terrifyingly close to love.
But it’s not enough. Not yet.
They are silent for a while, and I feel like my heart pounds against my ribs.
“This still isn’t considered a wedding,” Maa says, eyes flashing. “You married so hurriedly, Aarav; your family wasn’t there. You made something sacred into a contract. You’ll still have to divorce eventually.” Her jaw clenches. “This is unacceptable.”
Aarav leans toward me, then looks at both of them. His next words crack the air.
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll divorce her.” My heart drops. And I feel the world around me spin. But he doesn’t let go of my hand.
“And then I’ll marry her again.” Both our mothers go still. He’s still holding my hand. He's still looking at me like I’m his whole world.
“Can I do that?” he asks, not to them, but to me. Like my answer is the only one that matters. I muster a smile; he’s done it again, broken my heart and won it in a second.
There’s a silence, heavy and humming, before Maa and Mumma glance at each other. After a long beat, Maa nods once.
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Aarav turns to me again, eyes soft.
And in that moment, I know one thing for sure—he may have walked into this as a contract. But now, he’s choosing me.
And I might just be choosing him too.