08-10-2025, 11:31 AM
(CHAPTER CONTD)
FEW HOURS LATER
The café was quiet, tucked into a narrow lane away from Mumbai’s usual chaos. Sonarika sat opposite Vikram in a dimly lit corner, her fingers curling around a cup of untouched coffee. Her complexion was pale, her eyes tired and hollow. Across from her, Vikram’s posture was taut, his face betraying the aftershocks of that night when Hemant had walked into his apartment unannounced. Neither of them smiled when they first met each other’s gaze.
"What happened after?" Vikram finally asked, his voice low, careful.
"I haven’t been able to sleep since… your husband showing up like..... that shook me more than I expected"
Sonarika sighed, looking down at the table.
"The distance between us… it’s wider than ever, Vicky. He has given up on our marriage. He no longer sees me as his light or a part of his life anymore"
Vikram nodded grimly.
"I could see it in his eyes that day. The way he looked around at those photographs—I’ll be honest, I thought he might hit me. But instead, he just left. That silence was worse than anger"
Her lips quivered.
"You didn’t see him later. He cried, Vicky. He told me with tears in his eyes that I was killing him, every single moment I was with you. That broke me more than anything"
Vikram reached across the table, his hand brushing hers gently.
"Then you need to give him space. You staying under the same roof is like keeping a wound open. Move away from him, Soni. Don’t torture either of you like this"
Her eyes widened.
"I can’t just leave. My son… my sister… they don’t even know the full truth. How am I supposed to shatter their world overnight?"
"Then change something else" Vikram urged.
"Change your job. Leave Mumbai, start fresh. Distance will help you breathe again"
Sonarika let out a weak laugh, though it was tinged with bitterness.
"Where can I possibly find a new job in such a short time? I can barely keep myself together, Vicky"
He leaned forward, a faint spark of hope in his voice.
"I have contacts in Jabalpur. They can offer you work—something close to what you already do. And you wouldn’t have to be alone. You can live with me there"
His words hung in the air, heavier than the coffee aroma around them.
For the first time that evening, Sonarika’s lips curved into a faint chuckle.
"Jabalpur" she murmured.
"You’re still holding onto that old dream, aren’t you? The one where we wake up together every morning, drink coffee side by side, and pretend we’re just… a normal couple"
Her chuckle carried a note of nostalgia that softened her pale face. Vikram smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I know it sounds selfish. But maybe it’s not just a dream anymore. You need fresh air, Sonarika. If you stay where you are, this suffering will only multiply. Hemant will keep haunting you, and you’ll never heal"
Her expression flickered between longing and despair.
"Part of me sees what you’re saying. But separating from Karan… from Anjali… how do I live with that? They’re the only anchors I have left"
Her voice trembled, heavy with guilt.Vikram squeezed her hand firmly.
"Don’t decide now. Just think about it. I suggested it because I can’t watch you bleed like this anymore"
Sonarika’s eyes softened. She reached across and caressed his cheek.
"Even broken as I am, you still want me"
"I’ll heal you" Vikram whispered, his tone both tender and possessive.
"I’ll drown you in so much love you’ll choke on it"
Her lips curved into a sly smile, a spark of her old mischief slipping through.
"I already know your method of choking" she teased, her words dripping with innuendo.
For the first time in weeks, both of them laughed—an almost guilty, hushed laughter, but real nonetheless. The heaviness momentarily lifted as Sonarika leaned back in her chair, a small smile lighting her face.
"God, it feels strange to smile again" she murmured.
Vikram reached for her hand once more, his gaze steady.
"Then I’ll find new ways to bring that smile out, Sonarika. No matter how long it takes"
She held his hand, staring into his eyes, and for that fleeting moment the storm inside her quieted. For once, she didn’t feel like the broken woman Hemant had left behind. She felt wanted, desired, alive. And though guilt lingered like a shadow, she allowed herself to bask in this rare sliver of happiness, even if it came from the man who made everything so complicated. Back in her room that night, Sonarika sat by the window long after the city had gone quiet. Vikram’s words circled her mind like restless ghosts: fresh air, distance, Jabalpur. She traced the rim of her tea cup with trembling fingers, as though searching for an answer in its fading warmth. Her body still carried the echo of laughter she had shared with him, but the guilt that followed was suffocating.
She pictured Hemant’s tear-stained face, his voice breaking as he accused her of killing him with every moment she spent with Vikram. That memory alone made her chest seize. How could she abandon her son to live in another city when the man she betrayed was still bleeding inside the same house? She pressed her palms against her temples, whispering to herself.
'I can’t. I can’t do this to Karan. I can’t do this to Anjali'
Yet Vikram’s offer dangled in front of her like forbidden fruit. The vision of waking up in his arms, drinking coffee together, escaping the suffocating silence of her marriage—it stirred something deep inside her. For a moment, she could almost see herself in Jabalpur, free from Hemant’s wounded gaze, free from the nightly terror of seeing Dilawar’s face in her dreams. That temptation made her pulse quicken, and it terrified her.
Her therapist’s advice echoed faintly—focus on small steps, don’t run from your pain. But was staying in Mumbai with Hemant truly healing, or was it slow suicide? She could hear the walls of the house whispering his grief every night. Sonarika tried journaling, but her words spilled out messily: Hemant hates me. Vikram wants me. Karan needs me. I’m trapped. She slammed the notebook shut, tears blurring her vision. Even the act of writing felt like betrayal—to Hemant, to Karan, to herself. She curled into bed, hugging a pillow tight, muttering apologies into the fabric as though her family could hear them through the walls.
The next morning, as she watched Karan prepare for the institute, the thought of leaving him hit her with brutal force. His small frame, his innocent smile—it was unthinkable. If she went to Jabalpur, she would miss these little mornings forever. And yet, Hemant’s cold distance left her hollow. She wondered if staying here meant she was punishing all of them with her presence. Her mind kept replaying Vikram’s voice—soft but insistent:
"I’ll heal you. I’ll drown you in so much love you’ll choke on it"
Part of her longed for that drowning, for a love so consuming it would erase her shame. But another part recoiled, knowing that any step toward Vikram widened the wound between her and Hemant beyond repair. One evening, Sonarika stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. The woman in the mirror looked fragile, broken, but still undeniably alive. She touched her own face, whispering,
"Who are you becoming?"
Behind her, she imagined two silhouettes—Hemant, silent and bleeding, and Vikram, smiling and waiting. She realized she couldn’t stand in both shadows forever. That night, as Karan fell asleep beside her again, Sonarika pressed her lips to his forehead and whispered.
"I’ll never leave you"
Yet even as the promise left her lips, she felt the lie beneath it. The choice Vikram had put before her was poisoning every corner of her mind. Whether she chose to stay or to go, something—someone—would be lost forever.
FEW DAYS LATER AT THE CAFE NEAR TANISHQ
The café buzzed with chatter, but Sonarika barely noticed. Across from her sat Meghna, her best friend, the one she always leaned on when life became unbearable. Today, however, Sonarika looked especially fragile. Her hands trembled as she stirred her coffee without drinking it, her eyes distant as though still carrying Hemant’s hollow stare. Meghna leaned forward, concern etched convincingly on her face.
"You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sonarika. What’s wrong?"
Sonarika exhaled shakily.
"It’s Vikram. He suggested… leaving Mumbai. Maybe Jabalpur. He thinks I need distance from Hemant to breathe again. And he’s right, maybe. But if I do that, Meghna, I’ll be giving up my family. Karan, Anjali… everything"
She paused, her voice breaking.
"I’m terrified. What if running to Vikram means losing them forever?"
For a brief second, Meghna’s mask slipped. Leave Mumbai? The thought stabbed at her chest—if Sonarika left, she would lose all the control she had so carefully spun. She quickly recovered, feigning surprise, shaking her head.
"No, no, no, Sonarika. You can’t throw away your life like that. Your career, your position—it took you years to become Chief Operations Manager at Tanishq. You’d really abandon all that?"
Sonarika bit her lip, guilt washing over her.
"I haven’t thought about work. I’ve only thought about the silence at home. Hemant barely speaks to me. He looks at me like… like I’m poison"
Meghna tilted her head, eyes sharp despite her sympathetic smile.
"And why are you the one running away, Sona? You didn’t do anything wrong. You followed your heart, that’s all. You went to a man who actually loves you, unlike your loser husband who never satisfied you"
Sonarika’s face hardened instantly, her eyes flashing.
"Don’t. Don’t you dare talk about Hemant like that"
Her voice rose, trembling with both anger and shame.
"You don’t know what he’s been through. What I’ve put him through. Whatever you think of him, he is not a loser"
The table fell silent between them, Sonarika’s breathing heavy.
Meghna raised her palms in mock surrender, masking her inner delight. Perfect, she thought. She’s still split down the middle—loyal to him, yet tied to Vikram. I can use that. Out loud, she softened her tone.
"Alright, alright. I won’t say anything more. But be honest, Sona. You can’t just quit your job, can you? You worked too hard for this. And besides, why move to Jabalpur when Vikram’s right here in Mumbai?"
Sonarika shook her head firmly.
"No. Moving into his apartment is a bad idea. It’s too small, too cramped. Honestly, I don’t even know why Vikram still lives there. A millionaire like him, and he hasn’t even thought about something bigger. It’s… odd"
Meghna’s eyes gleamed.
"Then let me talk to him. Maybe you two could find a new place together here in Mumbai. Something with space, comfort, a fresh start. Imagine waking up with him every day, building a life in a home that’s truly yours. Doesn’t that sound better than running away to some other city?"
Sonarika leaned back, her mind whirling. The idea wasn’t without appeal—fresh walls, new beginnings, no Hemant watching her with hollow eyes. Yet guilt pulled her back like chains.
"I’ll… think about it" she whispered at last.
"Thank you, Meghna. At least you listen to me without judgment"
Meghna smiled warmly, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
"Always, Sonarika. You know I only want the best for you"
But as Sonarika gathered her bag and walked away, Meghna’s expression shifted. A slow grin curled her lips, her eyes darkening with satisfaction. Yes. Keep crumbling, Sonarika. Step by step, I’ll drag you exactly where you belong. You’ll pay for what Jagjeet did, and you won’t even see it coming.
Back in her car, Sonarika gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary. Meghna’s words echoed mercilessly:
"Why are you running when you did nothing wrong? Move into Vikram’s place. Build a new life here"
She wanted to dismiss it, to laugh it off as reckless, but instead the poison lingered. It didn’t matter how much she tried to shut it out—every line replayed in her head, twisting into a cruel kind of logic. At home, she paced her bedroom, her hands restless. The idea of abandoning her job stung her pride—Meghna had been right about that. She had worked too hard to become Chief Operations Manager at Tanishq. Could she really throw it all away? But the thought of moving in with Vikram made her stomach churn. His flat was too small, too temporary, and Hemant’s ghost would haunt every corner of this city. Yet… was Jabalpur any better?
Two nights later, she found herself at Vikram’s apartment again, this time willingly. The walls, once adorned with her smiling photographs, felt like they were closing in. She sat on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest, while Vikram poured two glasses of wine.
"You look tense" he observed, sitting beside her.
"Is this about Hemant again?"
"No" she said softly, then corrected herself.
"Yes. And no. It’s… it’s Meghna. I met her the other day. I told her about your suggestion—moving to Jabalpur. She flipped. Said I’d be a fool to leave my career behind. She thinks… she thinks I should move in with you instead"
Vikram stiffened, his brows knitting.
"Move in here?" He gestured around at the modest space.
"This place is a box, Soni. You’d hate it after a week. And honestly, you’re right—someone like me should’ve moved into a bigger place long ago. I just never cared enough. But if you were with me, I would"
Her lips twisted into a bitter half-smile.
"That’s what she said too. That maybe we should get a new place together, somewhere more comfortable. Start fresh right here in Mumbai"
She studied his face carefully.
"Is that what you want, Vicky? A house with me in it? Coffee in the mornings, dinners at night, the whole picture?"
He leaned closer, his voice husky.
"Of course I want that. I’ve always wanted that. But it’s not about what I want—it’s about what you can live with. If Hemant’s presence is tearing you apart, staying in Mumbai won’t fix that. You’ll just see his shadow everywhere. That’s why I said Jabalpur. That’s why I said distance"
She swallowed hard, the cushion clutched tighter against her.
"But Meghna made it sound so easy. Like I’m running away for no reason. Like Hemant doesn’t matter because he couldn’t give me what you did"
Her voice cracked.
"But he does matter, Vicky. He always will. I don’t care what anyone says, I can’t let people trash him like that. He may not have been rough or wild, but he’s not a loser. He’s… he’s Hemant"
Vikram placed his hand over hers, squeezing firmly.
"And that right there, Soni, is your prison. You’re trying to carry guilt for both of you, and it’s eating you alive. You love your son, you love your sister, you even care about Hemant’s pain—but who cares about you? Only me. Only I’m here saying I’ll take you out of this hell"
Her eyes shimmered with tears.
"Then why do I feel like whichever choice I make, I’ll destroy someone? If I stay, I keep killing Hemant slowly. If I leave, I break my son’s heart. And if I run to Jabalpur, I kill my own career. Everything is death no matter where I turn"
Vikram pulled her into his arms, his voice low against her hair.
"Then let me be your life. Forget what Meghna says, forget Hemant’s guilt trips. You’re mine, Soni. With me, you’ll breathe again. And I’ll make sure you never have to choke on your past—only on my love"
She laughed softly through her tears, smacking his chest.
"God, you and your choking metaphors. You’re incorrigible"
For a fleeting second, the heaviness lifted. Yet even as she smiled, the conflict gnawed deeper inside her. Meghna’s poisoned advice had rooted itself in her thoughts, and no embrace, no laughter, could wash it away.
FEW DAYS LATER AT AN ART GALLERY
The gallery’s walls gleamed with abstract canvases, but Sonarika hardly noticed the art. Her eyes swept across the murmuring crowd of their social circle until she found Mouni, glass of red wine in hand, leaning lazily against a column. Their eyes met, and Mouni smirked as though she had been expecting her.
"Sonarika" Mouni purred, brushing her hair over one shoulder.
"Didn’t expect to see you tonight. How’s the… cooling period treating you?"
Her tone dripped with irony. Sonarika forced a thin smile.
"Survivable. Though, I wanted to ask you something"
She tilted her head, studying Mouni.
"How’s the equation between you and Kunal? Last I heard, things were… unconventional"
Mouni rolled her eyes and took a slow sip.
"Equation? There’s hardly one left. Kunal’s buried in his business; I barely see him. Meanwhile, Sagar practically lives in our house now. My so-called husband’s separation from me—I should thank your Hemant for that. He’s the one undoing the little ‘cuckold’ world Kunal built for us"
Sonarika blinked, unsettled.
"Isn’t that a good thing? I mean… if Hemant made him rethink things—doesn’t that help you both?"
"Help?" Mouni snapped, her voice sharp.
"I never chose this, Sonarika. Kunal pushed me into Sagar’s arms to fulfill his twisted fantasy. For years he didn’t complain, not once. Now, suddenly, Hemant poisons his mind with ‘sanity’—and Kunal thinks we can go back to being a normal couple. Impossible. Not when I’ve given myself completely to Sagar"
A small, wry smile tugged at Sonarika’s lips.
"So it’s not just one marriage falling apart, then. Mine’s hanging by threads too. Seems Hemant has a knack for unraveling relationships"
Mouni’s eyes gleamed with malice.
"At least I can take comfort knowing Hemant got something in return for messing with my life"
Sonarika stiffened, the jab hitting her raw nerve.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means" Mouni said coldly.
"I was happy, Kunal was happy, everything was… functioning. As normal as it could. Then your precious husband made him grow a spine. And now my house is chaos"
Sonarika’s face hardened, her words dripping with quiet venom.
"Nothing about your lifestyle is normal, Mouni"
Mouni smirked, her tone biting.
"That’s rich—coming from you. You cheated on your husband behind his back and still try to claim some high ground of rationality. At least I didn’t sneak. At least mine was transparent"
Sonarika’s anger flared, her jaw tightening, but after a moment she forced herself calm.
"Those taunts don’t work anymore. Hemant’s already torn me apart with his words and his silence. Nothing you say can hurt worse than what I’ve already endured"
Her voice steadied, cutting with quiet clarity.
"But at least I know what I’m losing. At least I know how much it’ll hurt, how much I’ll miss it. You, Mouni? You won’t realize what you’ve lost until it’s too late. Until there’s nothing left of Kunal but resentment"
Mouni chuckled low, a smug smile curving her lips.
"We’ll see about that"
She flicked her wrist dismissively, turned on her heel, and drifted toward another cluster of guests, leaving Sonarika standing alone in the halo of gallery lights, her chest heaving.
FEW HOURS LATER AT A LAVISH RESTAURANT
The dim glow of the restaurant’s lamps reflected off polished wine glasses, creating an atmosphere that seemed too calm for Sonarika’s restless mind. She stirred her soup absentmindedly, eyes distant. Across the table, Vikram watched her with quiet patience until finally, she spoke.
"Mouni hasn’t changed at all. She’s still so… condescending. Ignorant of what Kunal’s going through, as if his pain is just an inconvenience to her indulgence"
Vikram leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the stem of his glass.
"Can you blame her though? It was Kunal who opened that door. He pushed her into that lifestyle. Once you go down that path, Soni, there’s rarely a way back. She’s just living the reality he created"
Sonarika’s brow furrowed.
"That doesn’t excuse her cruelty. She talks like Kunal is a burden instead of her husband"
"I know" Vikram said evenly.
"That’s why I’ve told Sagar before—if he’s so serious about Mouni, he should step up. Push her to end it with Kunal. Free the man. At least then Kunal and Mouni’s kids would grow up with some clarity, instead of this circus"
Sonarika set her spoon down, stunned.
"You… you actually told Sagar to encourage divorce? That’s extreme, Vikram"
He nodded, calm but firm.
"It’s not extreme, it’s practical. Look at them—they’ll never go back to being a couple. Better to rip the bandage off than keep bleeding each other dry. Sometimes separation is the only cure"
She let out a faint, ironic laugh, her eyes narrowing.
"Just like how you’re pushing me to separate from Hemant, so you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of with me"
Vikram leaned forward, his voice soft but steady.
"Don’t twist it, Soni. My feelings for you aren’t born from scheming. I have no ill will towards Hemant. You know how I grew up—surrounded by people who believed in… alternative lifestyles. To me, those things were normal. But then I met you. And for the first time, I understood what real commitment meant. What it means to truly know someone"
Sonarika’s face softened, but she still shook her head.
"Even if I choose you, Vicky, we can’t just rush into marriage. Imagine what people will say—Hemant and I barely divorced, and suddenly I’m Mrs. Vikram Bajaj? It’ll kill whatever little social life I have left"
Vikram chuckled faintly, lifting his glass.
"Then we won’t rush. We’ll take our time. I don’t care about the label—marriage, papers, ceremonies. If you want a live-in relationship, fine. As long as I wake up next to you, that’s enough for me"
She sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
"I’m still confused, Vicky. But one thing I know—I need fresh air. A new perspective. Because right now, everything feels suffocating"
His eyes lit with a smile, warm but almost pleading.
"That’s all I need to hear—that you’re even considering a life with me. That you’re willing to step into something new"
Sonarika leaned back, her expression shadowed by resignation.
"Don’t mistake it for hope. I’m making that decision because I don’t have any choice left. I can’t keep wounding Hemant. I need to step away, so he can finally be free from the worst virus in his life—me"
Vikram froze for a moment at her words, his jaw tightening, but then he reached across the table, grasping her hand firmly.
"You’re not a virus, Soni. You’re the best energy drink for me!"
(CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)
The café was quiet, tucked into a narrow lane away from Mumbai’s usual chaos. Sonarika sat opposite Vikram in a dimly lit corner, her fingers curling around a cup of untouched coffee. Her complexion was pale, her eyes tired and hollow. Across from her, Vikram’s posture was taut, his face betraying the aftershocks of that night when Hemant had walked into his apartment unannounced. Neither of them smiled when they first met each other’s gaze.
"What happened after?" Vikram finally asked, his voice low, careful.
"I haven’t been able to sleep since… your husband showing up like..... that shook me more than I expected"
Sonarika sighed, looking down at the table.
"The distance between us… it’s wider than ever, Vicky. He has given up on our marriage. He no longer sees me as his light or a part of his life anymore"
Vikram nodded grimly.
"I could see it in his eyes that day. The way he looked around at those photographs—I’ll be honest, I thought he might hit me. But instead, he just left. That silence was worse than anger"
Her lips quivered.
"You didn’t see him later. He cried, Vicky. He told me with tears in his eyes that I was killing him, every single moment I was with you. That broke me more than anything"
Vikram reached across the table, his hand brushing hers gently.
"Then you need to give him space. You staying under the same roof is like keeping a wound open. Move away from him, Soni. Don’t torture either of you like this"
Her eyes widened.
"I can’t just leave. My son… my sister… they don’t even know the full truth. How am I supposed to shatter their world overnight?"
"Then change something else" Vikram urged.
"Change your job. Leave Mumbai, start fresh. Distance will help you breathe again"
Sonarika let out a weak laugh, though it was tinged with bitterness.
"Where can I possibly find a new job in such a short time? I can barely keep myself together, Vicky"
He leaned forward, a faint spark of hope in his voice.
"I have contacts in Jabalpur. They can offer you work—something close to what you already do. And you wouldn’t have to be alone. You can live with me there"
His words hung in the air, heavier than the coffee aroma around them.
For the first time that evening, Sonarika’s lips curved into a faint chuckle.
"Jabalpur" she murmured.
"You’re still holding onto that old dream, aren’t you? The one where we wake up together every morning, drink coffee side by side, and pretend we’re just… a normal couple"
Her chuckle carried a note of nostalgia that softened her pale face. Vikram smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I know it sounds selfish. But maybe it’s not just a dream anymore. You need fresh air, Sonarika. If you stay where you are, this suffering will only multiply. Hemant will keep haunting you, and you’ll never heal"
Her expression flickered between longing and despair.
"Part of me sees what you’re saying. But separating from Karan… from Anjali… how do I live with that? They’re the only anchors I have left"
Her voice trembled, heavy with guilt.Vikram squeezed her hand firmly.
"Don’t decide now. Just think about it. I suggested it because I can’t watch you bleed like this anymore"
Sonarika’s eyes softened. She reached across and caressed his cheek.
"Even broken as I am, you still want me"
"I’ll heal you" Vikram whispered, his tone both tender and possessive.
"I’ll drown you in so much love you’ll choke on it"
Her lips curved into a sly smile, a spark of her old mischief slipping through.
"I already know your method of choking" she teased, her words dripping with innuendo.
For the first time in weeks, both of them laughed—an almost guilty, hushed laughter, but real nonetheless. The heaviness momentarily lifted as Sonarika leaned back in her chair, a small smile lighting her face.
"God, it feels strange to smile again" she murmured.
Vikram reached for her hand once more, his gaze steady.
"Then I’ll find new ways to bring that smile out, Sonarika. No matter how long it takes"
She held his hand, staring into his eyes, and for that fleeting moment the storm inside her quieted. For once, she didn’t feel like the broken woman Hemant had left behind. She felt wanted, desired, alive. And though guilt lingered like a shadow, she allowed herself to bask in this rare sliver of happiness, even if it came from the man who made everything so complicated. Back in her room that night, Sonarika sat by the window long after the city had gone quiet. Vikram’s words circled her mind like restless ghosts: fresh air, distance, Jabalpur. She traced the rim of her tea cup with trembling fingers, as though searching for an answer in its fading warmth. Her body still carried the echo of laughter she had shared with him, but the guilt that followed was suffocating.
She pictured Hemant’s tear-stained face, his voice breaking as he accused her of killing him with every moment she spent with Vikram. That memory alone made her chest seize. How could she abandon her son to live in another city when the man she betrayed was still bleeding inside the same house? She pressed her palms against her temples, whispering to herself.
'I can’t. I can’t do this to Karan. I can’t do this to Anjali'
Yet Vikram’s offer dangled in front of her like forbidden fruit. The vision of waking up in his arms, drinking coffee together, escaping the suffocating silence of her marriage—it stirred something deep inside her. For a moment, she could almost see herself in Jabalpur, free from Hemant’s wounded gaze, free from the nightly terror of seeing Dilawar’s face in her dreams. That temptation made her pulse quicken, and it terrified her.
Her therapist’s advice echoed faintly—focus on small steps, don’t run from your pain. But was staying in Mumbai with Hemant truly healing, or was it slow suicide? She could hear the walls of the house whispering his grief every night. Sonarika tried journaling, but her words spilled out messily: Hemant hates me. Vikram wants me. Karan needs me. I’m trapped. She slammed the notebook shut, tears blurring her vision. Even the act of writing felt like betrayal—to Hemant, to Karan, to herself. She curled into bed, hugging a pillow tight, muttering apologies into the fabric as though her family could hear them through the walls.
The next morning, as she watched Karan prepare for the institute, the thought of leaving him hit her with brutal force. His small frame, his innocent smile—it was unthinkable. If she went to Jabalpur, she would miss these little mornings forever. And yet, Hemant’s cold distance left her hollow. She wondered if staying here meant she was punishing all of them with her presence. Her mind kept replaying Vikram’s voice—soft but insistent:
"I’ll heal you. I’ll drown you in so much love you’ll choke on it"
Part of her longed for that drowning, for a love so consuming it would erase her shame. But another part recoiled, knowing that any step toward Vikram widened the wound between her and Hemant beyond repair. One evening, Sonarika stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. The woman in the mirror looked fragile, broken, but still undeniably alive. She touched her own face, whispering,
"Who are you becoming?"
Behind her, she imagined two silhouettes—Hemant, silent and bleeding, and Vikram, smiling and waiting. She realized she couldn’t stand in both shadows forever. That night, as Karan fell asleep beside her again, Sonarika pressed her lips to his forehead and whispered.
"I’ll never leave you"
Yet even as the promise left her lips, she felt the lie beneath it. The choice Vikram had put before her was poisoning every corner of her mind. Whether she chose to stay or to go, something—someone—would be lost forever.
FEW DAYS LATER AT THE CAFE NEAR TANISHQ
The café buzzed with chatter, but Sonarika barely noticed. Across from her sat Meghna, her best friend, the one she always leaned on when life became unbearable. Today, however, Sonarika looked especially fragile. Her hands trembled as she stirred her coffee without drinking it, her eyes distant as though still carrying Hemant’s hollow stare. Meghna leaned forward, concern etched convincingly on her face.
"You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sonarika. What’s wrong?"
Sonarika exhaled shakily.
"It’s Vikram. He suggested… leaving Mumbai. Maybe Jabalpur. He thinks I need distance from Hemant to breathe again. And he’s right, maybe. But if I do that, Meghna, I’ll be giving up my family. Karan, Anjali… everything"
She paused, her voice breaking.
"I’m terrified. What if running to Vikram means losing them forever?"
For a brief second, Meghna’s mask slipped. Leave Mumbai? The thought stabbed at her chest—if Sonarika left, she would lose all the control she had so carefully spun. She quickly recovered, feigning surprise, shaking her head.
"No, no, no, Sonarika. You can’t throw away your life like that. Your career, your position—it took you years to become Chief Operations Manager at Tanishq. You’d really abandon all that?"
Sonarika bit her lip, guilt washing over her.
"I haven’t thought about work. I’ve only thought about the silence at home. Hemant barely speaks to me. He looks at me like… like I’m poison"
Meghna tilted her head, eyes sharp despite her sympathetic smile.
"And why are you the one running away, Sona? You didn’t do anything wrong. You followed your heart, that’s all. You went to a man who actually loves you, unlike your loser husband who never satisfied you"
Sonarika’s face hardened instantly, her eyes flashing.
"Don’t. Don’t you dare talk about Hemant like that"
Her voice rose, trembling with both anger and shame.
"You don’t know what he’s been through. What I’ve put him through. Whatever you think of him, he is not a loser"
The table fell silent between them, Sonarika’s breathing heavy.
Meghna raised her palms in mock surrender, masking her inner delight. Perfect, she thought. She’s still split down the middle—loyal to him, yet tied to Vikram. I can use that. Out loud, she softened her tone.
"Alright, alright. I won’t say anything more. But be honest, Sona. You can’t just quit your job, can you? You worked too hard for this. And besides, why move to Jabalpur when Vikram’s right here in Mumbai?"
Sonarika shook her head firmly.
"No. Moving into his apartment is a bad idea. It’s too small, too cramped. Honestly, I don’t even know why Vikram still lives there. A millionaire like him, and he hasn’t even thought about something bigger. It’s… odd"
Meghna’s eyes gleamed.
"Then let me talk to him. Maybe you two could find a new place together here in Mumbai. Something with space, comfort, a fresh start. Imagine waking up with him every day, building a life in a home that’s truly yours. Doesn’t that sound better than running away to some other city?"
Sonarika leaned back, her mind whirling. The idea wasn’t without appeal—fresh walls, new beginnings, no Hemant watching her with hollow eyes. Yet guilt pulled her back like chains.
"I’ll… think about it" she whispered at last.
"Thank you, Meghna. At least you listen to me without judgment"
Meghna smiled warmly, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
"Always, Sonarika. You know I only want the best for you"
But as Sonarika gathered her bag and walked away, Meghna’s expression shifted. A slow grin curled her lips, her eyes darkening with satisfaction. Yes. Keep crumbling, Sonarika. Step by step, I’ll drag you exactly where you belong. You’ll pay for what Jagjeet did, and you won’t even see it coming.
Back in her car, Sonarika gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary. Meghna’s words echoed mercilessly:
"Why are you running when you did nothing wrong? Move into Vikram’s place. Build a new life here"
She wanted to dismiss it, to laugh it off as reckless, but instead the poison lingered. It didn’t matter how much she tried to shut it out—every line replayed in her head, twisting into a cruel kind of logic. At home, she paced her bedroom, her hands restless. The idea of abandoning her job stung her pride—Meghna had been right about that. She had worked too hard to become Chief Operations Manager at Tanishq. Could she really throw it all away? But the thought of moving in with Vikram made her stomach churn. His flat was too small, too temporary, and Hemant’s ghost would haunt every corner of this city. Yet… was Jabalpur any better?
Two nights later, she found herself at Vikram’s apartment again, this time willingly. The walls, once adorned with her smiling photographs, felt like they were closing in. She sat on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest, while Vikram poured two glasses of wine.
"You look tense" he observed, sitting beside her.
"Is this about Hemant again?"
"No" she said softly, then corrected herself.
"Yes. And no. It’s… it’s Meghna. I met her the other day. I told her about your suggestion—moving to Jabalpur. She flipped. Said I’d be a fool to leave my career behind. She thinks… she thinks I should move in with you instead"
Vikram stiffened, his brows knitting.
"Move in here?" He gestured around at the modest space.
"This place is a box, Soni. You’d hate it after a week. And honestly, you’re right—someone like me should’ve moved into a bigger place long ago. I just never cared enough. But if you were with me, I would"
Her lips twisted into a bitter half-smile.
"That’s what she said too. That maybe we should get a new place together, somewhere more comfortable. Start fresh right here in Mumbai"
She studied his face carefully.
"Is that what you want, Vicky? A house with me in it? Coffee in the mornings, dinners at night, the whole picture?"
He leaned closer, his voice husky.
"Of course I want that. I’ve always wanted that. But it’s not about what I want—it’s about what you can live with. If Hemant’s presence is tearing you apart, staying in Mumbai won’t fix that. You’ll just see his shadow everywhere. That’s why I said Jabalpur. That’s why I said distance"
She swallowed hard, the cushion clutched tighter against her.
"But Meghna made it sound so easy. Like I’m running away for no reason. Like Hemant doesn’t matter because he couldn’t give me what you did"
Her voice cracked.
"But he does matter, Vicky. He always will. I don’t care what anyone says, I can’t let people trash him like that. He may not have been rough or wild, but he’s not a loser. He’s… he’s Hemant"
Vikram placed his hand over hers, squeezing firmly.
"And that right there, Soni, is your prison. You’re trying to carry guilt for both of you, and it’s eating you alive. You love your son, you love your sister, you even care about Hemant’s pain—but who cares about you? Only me. Only I’m here saying I’ll take you out of this hell"
Her eyes shimmered with tears.
"Then why do I feel like whichever choice I make, I’ll destroy someone? If I stay, I keep killing Hemant slowly. If I leave, I break my son’s heart. And if I run to Jabalpur, I kill my own career. Everything is death no matter where I turn"
Vikram pulled her into his arms, his voice low against her hair.
"Then let me be your life. Forget what Meghna says, forget Hemant’s guilt trips. You’re mine, Soni. With me, you’ll breathe again. And I’ll make sure you never have to choke on your past—only on my love"
She laughed softly through her tears, smacking his chest.
"God, you and your choking metaphors. You’re incorrigible"
For a fleeting second, the heaviness lifted. Yet even as she smiled, the conflict gnawed deeper inside her. Meghna’s poisoned advice had rooted itself in her thoughts, and no embrace, no laughter, could wash it away.
FEW DAYS LATER AT AN ART GALLERY
The gallery’s walls gleamed with abstract canvases, but Sonarika hardly noticed the art. Her eyes swept across the murmuring crowd of their social circle until she found Mouni, glass of red wine in hand, leaning lazily against a column. Their eyes met, and Mouni smirked as though she had been expecting her.
"Sonarika" Mouni purred, brushing her hair over one shoulder.
"Didn’t expect to see you tonight. How’s the… cooling period treating you?"
Her tone dripped with irony. Sonarika forced a thin smile.
"Survivable. Though, I wanted to ask you something"
She tilted her head, studying Mouni.
"How’s the equation between you and Kunal? Last I heard, things were… unconventional"
Mouni rolled her eyes and took a slow sip.
"Equation? There’s hardly one left. Kunal’s buried in his business; I barely see him. Meanwhile, Sagar practically lives in our house now. My so-called husband’s separation from me—I should thank your Hemant for that. He’s the one undoing the little ‘cuckold’ world Kunal built for us"
Sonarika blinked, unsettled.
"Isn’t that a good thing? I mean… if Hemant made him rethink things—doesn’t that help you both?"
"Help?" Mouni snapped, her voice sharp.
"I never chose this, Sonarika. Kunal pushed me into Sagar’s arms to fulfill his twisted fantasy. For years he didn’t complain, not once. Now, suddenly, Hemant poisons his mind with ‘sanity’—and Kunal thinks we can go back to being a normal couple. Impossible. Not when I’ve given myself completely to Sagar"
A small, wry smile tugged at Sonarika’s lips.
"So it’s not just one marriage falling apart, then. Mine’s hanging by threads too. Seems Hemant has a knack for unraveling relationships"
Mouni’s eyes gleamed with malice.
"At least I can take comfort knowing Hemant got something in return for messing with my life"
Sonarika stiffened, the jab hitting her raw nerve.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means" Mouni said coldly.
"I was happy, Kunal was happy, everything was… functioning. As normal as it could. Then your precious husband made him grow a spine. And now my house is chaos"
Sonarika’s face hardened, her words dripping with quiet venom.
"Nothing about your lifestyle is normal, Mouni"
Mouni smirked, her tone biting.
"That’s rich—coming from you. You cheated on your husband behind his back and still try to claim some high ground of rationality. At least I didn’t sneak. At least mine was transparent"
Sonarika’s anger flared, her jaw tightening, but after a moment she forced herself calm.
"Those taunts don’t work anymore. Hemant’s already torn me apart with his words and his silence. Nothing you say can hurt worse than what I’ve already endured"
Her voice steadied, cutting with quiet clarity.
"But at least I know what I’m losing. At least I know how much it’ll hurt, how much I’ll miss it. You, Mouni? You won’t realize what you’ve lost until it’s too late. Until there’s nothing left of Kunal but resentment"
Mouni chuckled low, a smug smile curving her lips.
"We’ll see about that"
She flicked her wrist dismissively, turned on her heel, and drifted toward another cluster of guests, leaving Sonarika standing alone in the halo of gallery lights, her chest heaving.
FEW HOURS LATER AT A LAVISH RESTAURANT
The dim glow of the restaurant’s lamps reflected off polished wine glasses, creating an atmosphere that seemed too calm for Sonarika’s restless mind. She stirred her soup absentmindedly, eyes distant. Across the table, Vikram watched her with quiet patience until finally, she spoke.
"Mouni hasn’t changed at all. She’s still so… condescending. Ignorant of what Kunal’s going through, as if his pain is just an inconvenience to her indulgence"
Vikram leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the stem of his glass.
"Can you blame her though? It was Kunal who opened that door. He pushed her into that lifestyle. Once you go down that path, Soni, there’s rarely a way back. She’s just living the reality he created"
Sonarika’s brow furrowed.
"That doesn’t excuse her cruelty. She talks like Kunal is a burden instead of her husband"
"I know" Vikram said evenly.
"That’s why I’ve told Sagar before—if he’s so serious about Mouni, he should step up. Push her to end it with Kunal. Free the man. At least then Kunal and Mouni’s kids would grow up with some clarity, instead of this circus"
Sonarika set her spoon down, stunned.
"You… you actually told Sagar to encourage divorce? That’s extreme, Vikram"
He nodded, calm but firm.
"It’s not extreme, it’s practical. Look at them—they’ll never go back to being a couple. Better to rip the bandage off than keep bleeding each other dry. Sometimes separation is the only cure"
She let out a faint, ironic laugh, her eyes narrowing.
"Just like how you’re pushing me to separate from Hemant, so you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of with me"
Vikram leaned forward, his voice soft but steady.
"Don’t twist it, Soni. My feelings for you aren’t born from scheming. I have no ill will towards Hemant. You know how I grew up—surrounded by people who believed in… alternative lifestyles. To me, those things were normal. But then I met you. And for the first time, I understood what real commitment meant. What it means to truly know someone"
Sonarika’s face softened, but she still shook her head.
"Even if I choose you, Vicky, we can’t just rush into marriage. Imagine what people will say—Hemant and I barely divorced, and suddenly I’m Mrs. Vikram Bajaj? It’ll kill whatever little social life I have left"
Vikram chuckled faintly, lifting his glass.
"Then we won’t rush. We’ll take our time. I don’t care about the label—marriage, papers, ceremonies. If you want a live-in relationship, fine. As long as I wake up next to you, that’s enough for me"
She sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
"I’m still confused, Vicky. But one thing I know—I need fresh air. A new perspective. Because right now, everything feels suffocating"
His eyes lit with a smile, warm but almost pleading.
"That’s all I need to hear—that you’re even considering a life with me. That you’re willing to step into something new"
Sonarika leaned back, her expression shadowed by resignation.
"Don’t mistake it for hope. I’m making that decision because I don’t have any choice left. I can’t keep wounding Hemant. I need to step away, so he can finally be free from the worst virus in his life—me"
Vikram froze for a moment at her words, his jaw tightening, but then he reached across the table, grasping her hand firmly.
"You’re not a virus, Soni. You’re the best energy drink for me!"
(CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)