Chapter 7: Morning After and Unspoken Words

The next morning, Priya was nowhere to be found.

I ate a buttered toast for breakfast, took a deep breath, and checked my phone.

The maid banged the utensils a little louder than usual, probably hoping I’d ask about Priya, but I just stared at my toast. Sunlight filtered through the bars on the window, making the empty chair across from me feel even more stark.

To my surprise, all the hate comments had vanished overnight.

Even the media outlets that bashed me the hardest—somehow their official accounts had been banned.

A few media friends sent me a photo of my parents at their company, captioned: [All settled.]

I smiled.

There it was—the familiar feeling of things slipping into place, the way Ma always said, 'Sab theek ho jayega, beta.' My family, for all their drama, never truly let me fall.

I knew my parents would never truly abandon me.

After all, every mess I’d ever made, they’d always cleaned up in the end.

As a child, I broke the neighbour's window with my cricket ball—Papa paid, Ma sent mithai to apologise. When I failed my 12th boards, they kept my secret from the entire colony.

[Speechless. Every time the second female lead quietly helps the male lead, she gives the credit to that couple...]

[Priya: number one CEO for cold, silent support. If her husband’s happy, she serves him with a smile. If he’s not, she serves him coldly.]

[Too bad the male supporting character is clueless. He was so obviously grossed out last night. Even if he dodged divorce, he probably can’t escape the basement in the end.]

Shocked, I looked from the barrage to my phone, staring at my parents’ photo for ten minutes—finally spotting signs of Photoshop...

Zooming in, I spotted Ma’s mangalsutra on the wrong side—Photoshop. Only Priya would be this thorough.

I opened WhatsApp, scrolled to Priya.

[Are you free today? I have something to talk to you about.]

She replied instantly: [Wrong person.]

“...”

I stared at the screen, feeling like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. Even autocorrect betrayed me sometimes, but Priya was sharper than any software.

[No, honey~]

This time, she replied after a long pause:

[I’m really sorry about last night, letting you see those ugly things. I’m busy today. If you want a divorce, contact a lawyer.]

[No, no, no,] I replied quickly. [Not a divorce.]

Priya: [Okay, see you this afternoon.]

Her reply was as brief as a government circular, but my heart skipped a beat anyway.

Barrage:

[I’m dying—divorce? No time. Not divorcing? See you this afternoon.]

[So close! The male supporting character barely avoided the little black room scenario again. Why does it feel like he’s finally realised something and is trying to save himself?]

[Why do I have a bad feeling about this plot point, but I can’t remember why...]

As I finished my tea, I wondered—maybe today, I’d finally see the woman behind the CEO mask—the one who, even after everything, still shredded the divorce papers herself.