Chapter 2: Ritu Returns

2

I don't believe I'm some hopeless villain.

Even if I did end up sleeping with Ritu while married.

Sometimes, the world just leaves you aching for something out of reach.

A year ago, at a school reunion, I ran into Ritu again—my teenage crush.

The Ritu of the past was bright, beautiful, from a wealthy home, always topping the class. For boys like me, lost in our own insecurities, she was a dream—untouchable, not even someone to imagine.

But that night, I saw a woman life had battered.

Haggard, thin, her exhaustion carved deep into her face—the kind of lines that come from years of bracing for blows.

My heart ached in a way I couldn't explain.

It was like watching a star fall, its shine lost to the dust of the world.

When we said goodbye, everyone gathered around my new car. Ritu asked, "This car must've cost you eight, nine lakhs, right?"

A classmate scoffed, "Are you joking? This one's over fifteen lakhs. Kabir is a branch manager now, it's not like before!"

Her cheeks reddened, lips pressed together.

I jumped in, "It's not that expensive, don't listen to them."

She glanced at me, face stiff, then turned away, not saying bye to anyone.

There was a heaviness in her steps. Only if you'd fallen from a height could you spot it. That night, as she walked away under the harsh tube lights, I remembered how once, her smile in the corridor felt like Diwali. Now, she was just another face retreating into the dark.

Later, through whispers and sighs, I heard her story.

Her family lost everything during college—bankruptcy, no house, no car. She married a man with a terrible temper. He died during a fight. She sold what little she had left to pay compensation, then even went to jail.

After the divorce, she raised her four-year-old son alone, living in a rented 1BHK, selling insurance to survive.

"She never came to reunions before. Probably here to get some business. Nothing wrong in that, but with that attitude, who'll buy from her?"

People in India judge quickly, talk even faster. I overheard someone whisper, "Bechari. But she always had too much pride, na? See where it landed her."

Half a month later, Ritu called unexpectedly, asking if I needed commercial insurance.

Meera handles insurance at the bank, so I was sorted.

Ritu sounded a bit let down, so I introduced her to a few friends.

Later, Ritu invited me for dinner to thank me. I agreed, happy to help.

Not long after, her son Aryan had a high fever. With the rain pouring and no auto in sight, she called me in panic.

Of course, I rushed to help.

That night, umbrella in hand, slippers splashing through muddy water, auto-walas shaking their heads—I felt like my own mother would have scolded me for running out so late. But somehow, it felt right.

After that, whenever Ritu cooked something special, she'd invite me. Aryan called me "Uncle Kabir" and stuck to me like Fevicol.

One evening, rain hammering outside, I couldn't leave for a while, so we had a few drinks together.

After Aryan fell asleep, she got up and went into the bedroom. After a bit, she called my name softly.

I went in.

She was sitting on the bed, a simple cotton saree draped carelessly, her hair still damp from the shower, eyes rimmed red.

She bit her lip and whispered, "Kabir, I have nothing else to give you. If you don't mind, all that's left is this body..."

Embarrassed, I quickly turned away, stammering, "Ri—Ritu, I didn't help you for anything in return. We're old classmates, na? It's normal to help."

She let out a quiet sigh, her voice full of sorrow.

"I remember, in class, you always stole glances at me. I know I can't compare to who I was back then."

"Don't worry, I have no plans to marry again, and I won't ruin your family. I just want the present..."

Outside, the rain kept drumming. Inside, it was another world.

Suddenly, I turned and rushed to her.

For that one night, the storm outside had nothing on the one inside. Rain hammered the windows, the ceiling fan hummed, the faint smell of coconut oil in her hair—everything blurred. For a moment, the world shrank to just us, two people clutching at whatever warmth we could steal from the universe.