Chapter 2: Blue Ticks, Real Talks
The next night after work, I opened WhatsApp—still no messages. I frowned. Normally, no matter how late or early it was, he'd always send me a "good morning" or "good night." Maybe he was just too tired last night?
I could feel the start of a familiar ache behind my eyes, the one that comes after a long week of staring at Excel sheets and glowing screens. My flat was dim except for the soft yellow glow of my table lamp and the two cats shadowing my every move, as if they sensed my unease.
I pitched my voice sweet and sent a voice message: "Bhaiya~ what are you doing? You haven't messaged your baby all day. Do you miss me?~"
I tried to sound playful, like the heroines in those OTT dramas who always have the perfect comeback.
His status instantly showed: "typing..."
I waited patiently. Five minutes passed.
I sent: "Finished pampering the other baby? Is it my turn now?"
Ten minutes—read, but no reply.
The blue ticks stared back at me like mocking eyes. I opened and closed the chat window at least ten times, as if that would make him reply faster. I started counting ceiling fan rotations, wondering if my voice had been too clingy or too casual.
I sent again: "Bhaiya, I think I've gone blind—I can't see your messages."
Half an hour—still read, still nothing.
Even Motu seemed restless, tail flicking back and forth as if he too was waiting for a reply. I almost felt silly for letting a chat notification affect me so much.
I laughed in frustration: "Hello, stranger, I'm getting married tomorrow. You’re invited!"
I tried to inject some drama into my voice message, hoping to get some reaction, at least a laughing emoji.
He called me immediately.
The ringtone startled me. I wiped my hands on my pajama pants, heart skipping a beat as I answered.
"You're remarrying your ex-husband?"
His tone was accusing, almost panicked, which made me giggle. I played along, stretching the joke.
I snorted and played along. "If someone keeps ignoring my messages, I might just grab a random guy off the street to marry and have a kid, so you can be the mama."
In my head, I imagined my mum's face if I actually did such a thing—she'd faint, then get up and scold me for not inviting enough relatives to the wedding.
He was quiet for a long time. "Sorry. I just didn't know how to face you for a bit..."
His voice had lost that teasing edge. For the first time, it sounded genuinely vulnerable, as if he was admitting to stealing the last piece of mithai from the fridge.
"What's so hard to face? There's nothing a game can't fix. And if there is, we’ll just play two games."
I blurted it out. Wasn't it just that he promised to carry me to Ace rank yesterday but had to leave? Just play more tonight—I’m not mad.
I tried to keep things breezy, but I could feel something tense in the air. I wanted to reach through the phone and poke his arm, the way I do with Sneha when she gets too serious.
"Come on, log in. We're reaching Ace rank tonight."
But weirdly, the guy who used to effortlessly carry me kept making mistakes tonight. We played all evening and didn't gain a single star—total waste of effort. The one who always called me 'baby' and picked me up at the spawn point wouldn't even let me ride on him in-game. Stranger still, the guy who would stay up late gaming and chatting with me now said he was done at eight.
The old banter was missing, replaced by awkward silences and half-hearted comments. I kept glancing at the clock, feeling a strange sense of loss.
"It's only eight. Don't tell me you're going to bed already."
My voice came out sharper than I intended, like a mother scolding her kid for sneaking snacks before dinner.
"...Don't you need to take care of the kids?"
"They're fine—playing with their toys."
I glanced at my two cats wrestling over a toy ball and grumbled, "You're acting really weird today. Feels like your mind's somewhere else. Did something happen?"
Motu and Chotu paused their game to stare at me, as if they too wanted to know what was going on with this boy.
He'd just wiped out the enemy team, then suddenly stopped moving. I heard him take a deep breath.
Even through the headset, I could sense the weight of his thoughts, like when you know a storm is about to break in the monsoon.
"I do like you. But my family is pretty traditional—my parents are both in their first marriage..."
I was stunned. What does that have to do with gaming? Is it rare for someone's parents to both be in their first marriage?
The words tumbled around my mind, confusing as the rules of a new game mode. I kept quiet, not wanting to push.
I stayed silent, and he seemed to finally make up his mind.
"I really like kids, but I hope my future child will be my and my wife's biological child..."
Now I was even more confused. I like kids too, but since when do you not need a man and a woman to have kids?
I was just about to speak when suddenly a teammate with a thick Delhi accent turned on his mic:
"Bhai, if you want to talk about shaadi, do it at home, okay? The boss is about to wipe us and you're over here talking about kids! I'm just one star away from Ace!"
I quickly tossed my headset aside. Arrey yaar—did this idiot turn on team voice for everyone?
I hid my face in my dupatta, wishing I could disappear like a shy bride on her wedding night. This was almost as embarrassing as the time my chappal broke at a family wedding and I had to hobble around with safety pins.
After the game ended, before I could ask him what he meant earlier, he quickly said good night and logged off.
The abrupt goodbye echoed in my headphones, leaving me feeling colder than before, even though it was only April and the fan was still on low.