Chapter 5: Aftermath

Although Rajeev immediately had PR done, some video clips still spread online. “Shameless mistress beats up the wife,” “Finance executive Rajeev cheats with female subordinate during wife’s pregnancy”—such explosive news kept trending on ShareChat and Twitter.

The society pages lapped it up. Even our watchman had an opinion.

Rajeev was summoned by authorities for a talk. Within days, a new appointment came—he was transferred to London to avoid public opinion, with no set return date.

It was exile, not promotion. My heart ached for him, but I also felt relief.

Meera's contract expired and wasn't renewed—she left automatically.

Her flat was emptied overnight, her phone switched off. She disappeared as quickly as she had entered our lives.

My original intention was just to let Rajeev see another side of Meera, to cool off on her for a while and give Sameer a chance. I didn't expect things to blow up so much.

Sometimes, when you light a fire, you cannot control how far it spreads.

Until I saw, on my eldest son's laptop, the login page for a big account posting the scandal videos. Then I realised my child was also protecting me in his own way.

He sat hunched over the screen, jaw clenched, refusing to meet my gaze. I felt pride and fear all at once.

I knocked on his head and said, "When you graduate, if your dad can't come back, you won't have as many good opportunities."

He pouted, rubbing his head, and tried to smile.

My son said seriously, "Mum, trust me. Even without Dad, I can give you a good life. You don't have to suffer for me."

He looked older in that moment, more like a man than a boy.

I hugged him and patted him, saying nothing. He hasn't been beaten by society yet—how could he know what a father like this means to him. Times have changed; it's even harder for the middle class to rise now.

I pressed my face to his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. I prayed he would never lose that confidence.

What shocked me even more was that Sameer told me it wasn't him who drugged Meera that day, but my second daughter—she used a truth serum.

She confessed in a whisper, as if scared the walls would hear. My hands trembled as I listened.

Who knows where she got such shady stuff. When I questioned her, she just clenched her fists and said nothing, finally giving me a determined look: "Mum, don't worry. I won't go astray."

I saw in her eyes a strength I’d never noticed before. She had grown up while I wasn’t watching.

I suddenly realised my children had grown up in ways I hadn't noticed.

Somewhere along the way, they learned to fight for what is theirs.

But they're still too young. If Rajeev finds out what they did, the consequences would be unthinkable.

I would shield them from everything if I could, even from themselves.

I privately hired a PR firm to delete posts and remove hot searches, erasing any trace linking my son to the incident. As for my daughter, as long as Rajeev can let go of Meera, her mistake is just a little girl trying to protect her parents' marriage.

Money can buy silence, but not peace of mind. I can only hope the sins of the mother do not visit the child.

I know Rajeev too well—he's sentimental. I am the wife who shared hardship, who sold my family's house to help him earn his first pot of gold. So all these years, even if he doesn't love me, he's always given me respect.

Even in our worst fights, he never raised his voice. He always remembered my birthday, my favourite flowers. That is something.

But Meera is the kohl mark in his heart. As long as she doesn't make a fundamental mistake, if she cries and begs, she's still his soulmate.

Her shadow lingers in every room, in every half-finished sentence he utters.

So the key is still with Sameer. While Rajeev is away, I have to act fast.

Sometimes, it takes a villain to vanquish a villain. I was ready for round two.

However, Sameer told me he doesn't want to do it anymore.

He looked at me, eyes tired, and for the first time, I saw not a player, but a man with his own battles. The story isn't over—but for today, the curtain falls.

I watched the city lights flicker outside my window, knowing tomorrow I'd have to fight again. In this city, even the strongest mothers get only one night's rest.