25-07-2026, 06:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 25-07-2026, 06:37 PM by heygiwriter. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 3 : Until Someone Comes Between
The girls’ hostel rooftop smelled of old concrete, cigarette smoke, and cheap whiskey. Arjun sat on the low pabangt wall, legs dangling, a half-empty bottle hanging from his fingers. His eyes were swollen and raw. When he saw Jeeva and Tara he gave a broken, bitter laugh.
“Look who came. The perfect couple.”
Meera stood a few feet away, arms tightly crossed, face stiff with humiliation. The warden had already been sent downstairs. Only the four of them remained under the yellow light.
Jeeva sat beside his friend. Tara stayed near Meera but didn’t touch her.
Arjun didn’t need any encouragement. The words poured out.
“I’m not imagining it, Jeeva. I saw the signs. Clear signs. Last week I found sand stuck on his shoes — the same sand that was on her slippers the day before. They both cut office on the same afternoon and came back late with the same excuse. They keep wearing the same colour clothes like it’s some cute coincidence. She hasn’t kissed me properly in months. Not even a real one. And now she’s going to watch a film with him this weekend. Just the two of them.”
He took a long drink and wiped his mouth.
“He’s the senior, so of course he can do whatever he wants. He pushed me to another team and kept her as his analyst… his ‘helper.’ Right in front of my face. I allowed it. I told her, make friends, it’s healthy. I’m the fucking idiot.”
Meera’s voice came out sharp and low.
“Stop it, Arjun. Don’t shame me in front of them. Don’t paint me like I’m some cheap woman.”
“Then explain it!” he shouted. “Explain the sand. Explain the matching clothes. Explain why you can’t even look at me when you come home.”
“I’m not explaining anything while you’re drunk and calling me a cheater in front of people,” she snapped. “You’re humiliating both of us.”
Jeeva raised a hand gently.
“Arjun… stop. You’re spiralling. These things… same colour clothes, sand, late coming — it can all be coincidence. You’re overthinking because you’re hurting. Don’t accuse her like this without something solid.”
Arjun laughed again, the sound ugly.
“Overthinking. That’s what everyone will say until it’s too late.”
“Fifteen years, Jeeva. college. College. First job. I gave her everything. And I was the idiot who told her, ‘Make friends, it’s healthy.’ I even introduced her to my senior. Good guy, I thought. Helpful. And he fucked her. Behind my back. For months. Now she’s the one finding reasons to leave me because I ‘don’t trust her.’”
He took a long swallow from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Never do it,” he said, looking at both of them with sudden intensity. “Never let your partner become friends with the opposite gender once you’re serious. Never. The moment you allow it, you’re already losing.”
Tara opened her mouth, then closed it. Jeeva just nodded slowly, the way you nod when someone is too drunk and too hurt to argue with.
They stayed until Arjun finally agreed to go home. Meera left separately, refusing to look at him. Jeeva drove Arjun back to his apartment, helped him onto the bed, left a bottle of water on the side table, and locked the door behind him.
When he came down, Tara was already waiting in the car.
The city roads were half-empty. Sodium lights slid across the windshield in long orange lines.
For a few minutes neither of them spoke.
Then Jeeva said quietly, “I still don’t think she cheated.”
Tara looked at him. “He sounded very sure.”
“He’s sure because he’s already decided. Sand on shoes, matching clothes, going to a movie… it’s all circumstantial. There’s no real proof. From the way he was talking, he’s been doubting her for a long time. Maybe she got tired of being treated like a criminal and started pulling away.”
Tara was silent for a while, watching the road.
“What if he was right, though? What if she really did sleep with that senior?”
Jeeva’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. “Then their relationship was already broken. It failed.”
“No,” she said slowly. “Maybe she still has feelings. People make mistakes.”
She turned more towards him.
“They were together fifteen years. college, college, office. How does love get tested just because she became friends with someone?
Jeeva said, Maybe the years didn’t mean anything. Maybe they never really loved each other the way they thought.”
A small, almost proud smile touched her lips.
“I’m glad ours still stands tall. No one even believes we had an arranged marriage. People always say we must have been lovers for years and we’re just lying about it.”
Jeeva gave a short laugh. “We’ve heard that so many times.”
The radio had been playing on low volume the whole time. Some late-night FM show. The anchor’s smooth voice was talking about relationships and trust. Most of it had been background noise.
Then one clear line cut through the car:
“it will only be tested if someone comes between.”
The words hung in the air. It is unrelated, but somewhere both Jeeva and Tara, had in their mind, what if someone comes between both of us. Both thought for a second.
Jeeva’s eyes left the road, Tara was already looking at him.
Neither of them smiled.
The empty road stretched ahead, and the sentence stayed between them like something that had been waiting for exactly this moment to arrive.
The girls’ hostel rooftop smelled of old concrete, cigarette smoke, and cheap whiskey. Arjun sat on the low pabangt wall, legs dangling, a half-empty bottle hanging from his fingers. His eyes were swollen and raw. When he saw Jeeva and Tara he gave a broken, bitter laugh.
“Look who came. The perfect couple.”
Meera stood a few feet away, arms tightly crossed, face stiff with humiliation. The warden had already been sent downstairs. Only the four of them remained under the yellow light.
Jeeva sat beside his friend. Tara stayed near Meera but didn’t touch her.
Arjun didn’t need any encouragement. The words poured out.
“I’m not imagining it, Jeeva. I saw the signs. Clear signs. Last week I found sand stuck on his shoes — the same sand that was on her slippers the day before. They both cut office on the same afternoon and came back late with the same excuse. They keep wearing the same colour clothes like it’s some cute coincidence. She hasn’t kissed me properly in months. Not even a real one. And now she’s going to watch a film with him this weekend. Just the two of them.”
He took a long drink and wiped his mouth.
“He’s the senior, so of course he can do whatever he wants. He pushed me to another team and kept her as his analyst… his ‘helper.’ Right in front of my face. I allowed it. I told her, make friends, it’s healthy. I’m the fucking idiot.”
Meera’s voice came out sharp and low.
“Stop it, Arjun. Don’t shame me in front of them. Don’t paint me like I’m some cheap woman.”
“Then explain it!” he shouted. “Explain the sand. Explain the matching clothes. Explain why you can’t even look at me when you come home.”
“I’m not explaining anything while you’re drunk and calling me a cheater in front of people,” she snapped. “You’re humiliating both of us.”
Jeeva raised a hand gently.
“Arjun… stop. You’re spiralling. These things… same colour clothes, sand, late coming — it can all be coincidence. You’re overthinking because you’re hurting. Don’t accuse her like this without something solid.”
Arjun laughed again, the sound ugly.
“Overthinking. That’s what everyone will say until it’s too late.”
“Fifteen years, Jeeva. college. College. First job. I gave her everything. And I was the idiot who told her, ‘Make friends, it’s healthy.’ I even introduced her to my senior. Good guy, I thought. Helpful. And he fucked her. Behind my back. For months. Now she’s the one finding reasons to leave me because I ‘don’t trust her.’”
He took a long swallow from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Never do it,” he said, looking at both of them with sudden intensity. “Never let your partner become friends with the opposite gender once you’re serious. Never. The moment you allow it, you’re already losing.”
Tara opened her mouth, then closed it. Jeeva just nodded slowly, the way you nod when someone is too drunk and too hurt to argue with.
They stayed until Arjun finally agreed to go home. Meera left separately, refusing to look at him. Jeeva drove Arjun back to his apartment, helped him onto the bed, left a bottle of water on the side table, and locked the door behind him.
When he came down, Tara was already waiting in the car.
The city roads were half-empty. Sodium lights slid across the windshield in long orange lines.
For a few minutes neither of them spoke.
Then Jeeva said quietly, “I still don’t think she cheated.”
Tara looked at him. “He sounded very sure.”
“He’s sure because he’s already decided. Sand on shoes, matching clothes, going to a movie… it’s all circumstantial. There’s no real proof. From the way he was talking, he’s been doubting her for a long time. Maybe she got tired of being treated like a criminal and started pulling away.”
Tara was silent for a while, watching the road.
“What if he was right, though? What if she really did sleep with that senior?”
Jeeva’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. “Then their relationship was already broken. It failed.”
“No,” she said slowly. “Maybe she still has feelings. People make mistakes.”
She turned more towards him.
“They were together fifteen years. college, college, office. How does love get tested just because she became friends with someone?
Jeeva said, Maybe the years didn’t mean anything. Maybe they never really loved each other the way they thought.”
A small, almost proud smile touched her lips.
“I’m glad ours still stands tall. No one even believes we had an arranged marriage. People always say we must have been lovers for years and we’re just lying about it.”
Jeeva gave a short laugh. “We’ve heard that so many times.”
The radio had been playing on low volume the whole time. Some late-night FM show. The anchor’s smooth voice was talking about relationships and trust. Most of it had been background noise.
Then one clear line cut through the car:
“it will only be tested if someone comes between.”
The words hung in the air. It is unrelated, but somewhere both Jeeva and Tara, had in their mind, what if someone comes between both of us. Both thought for a second.
Jeeva’s eyes left the road, Tara was already looking at him.
Neither of them smiled.
The empty road stretched ahead, and the sentence stayed between them like something that had been waiting for exactly this moment to arrive.
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