Chapter 3: Bargains and Goodbyes

3

As for what the WhatsApp group said—that I was about to be kicked out of the Sharma family—

Rather than be so humiliated, it was better to let go first. After three years of marriage, I was already content.

Now my biggest worry was how I’d survive after the divorce.

If my parents found out I’d been divorced by the Sharma family, they definitely wouldn’t care about me anymore. So I’d have to rely on myself.

At that thought, I took out my suitcase and looked at the pile of expensive bags and jewellery he’d given me in the closet, feeling a little troubled.

There were silk sarees from his mother’s side, a pair of gold bangles from our first anniversary, and those fancy imported handbags I never really dared to use. I ran my fingers along the soft leather, thinking how strange it was to trade memories for money.

I liked all these things, but what if they didn’t fit in my suitcase?

Knowing Arjun’s temperament, if I left, he’d probably throw everything out without a second thought.

After a long, painful struggle, I finally found someone overnight to exchange everything for cash and deposited it in my bank account.

The broker uncle weighed each gold bangle in his palm, clucking his tongue like a fishmonger at Dadar market. I hesitated, running my thumb over the bangle Amma had given me on my wedding day, before finally letting it go.

Even as I handed over the jewellery to the broker—a middle-aged uncle with a paunch and sweat stains on his shirt—I felt a sharp twist in my stomach. But needs must, and in Mumbai, you learn to be practical if you want to survive.

Staring at the extra zeros, I lay alone in bed and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I was woken by a kiss.

Arjun, who’d been gone all night, came home in the morning, sat beside the bed, and kissed me again and again.

His lips were insistent, almost feverish, as if trying to convince himself of something. I blinked in confusion, unused to this sudden affection.

I couldn’t help but wonder why he was so gentle today. Then I remembered what people online say—after a man does something guilty, he’ll treat his wife better.

At that thought, my heart went cold. I pursed my lips and turned my head away from his kiss.

Arjun had changed into another set of clothes. I sniffed, trying to catch the scent of another fragrance on him.

After a long while, I only smelled a faint scent of blood.

My brow twitched. Absurdly, I wondered: could the heroine’s scent smell like blood?

Somewhere, the idea made me laugh—a bitter, humourless sound. In all the movies and novels, the heroine always smells like roses or monsoon earth, never blood. But perhaps my life was destined to be strange.

...That would be too unusual.

Arjun’s kiss landed near my ear. He frowned, dissatisfied, and gripped my hand tightly, pinching my chin to kiss me again.

Before he could, he paused, his broad palm carefully rubbing my fingers.

He suddenly asked, "Where’s the ring?"

My heart jumped. Oh no—I’d been so focused on selling things last night, I must have sold the ring too.

But now that Arjun had a new lover, I figured I wouldn’t need that ring for much longer anyway.

I replied indifferently, "Maybe I left it in the bathroom."

As I spoke, I took the initiative to kiss him, trying to distract him.

Unexpectedly, for once Arjun took it seriously. He turned away, his voice tense: "In the bathroom? I’ll go look."

I tried to stop him, but he’d already walked to the bathroom.

A moment later, he came back, his expression icy. "It’s not there."

Of course not. I’d already sold it.

But I hadn’t finished writing the divorce agreement yet, so I tried to stay calm and made another excuse:

"Maybe it’s somewhere else in the house. I’ll look for it later."

But he was unusually insistent. "Look now."

Me: "..."

Left with no choice, I got up and pretended to search.

The next second, Arjun lifted me off the ground with one hand. "Arey, pagli, you’ll catch a chill. Where are your chappals?"

He scolded me in that gruff, familiar way—"Arey, you’ll catch a cold, and then who will make tea for me?"—before grabbing my slippers from under the bed and setting them at my feet.

After I put them on, he set me down and gestured with his chin. "Alright, go look."

I had no choice but to search the flat, but as expected, I didn’t find the ring.

Arjun stood behind me, arms crossed, his voice flat: "Meera, where is the ring?"

After three years of marriage, I knew his temper well. When he called me by my full name, he was truly angry.

But I couldn’t admit I’d sold the ring. I scratched my head, guilty:

"Uh, maybe I accidentally lost it outside..."

He was still wearing his plain silver ring. My fingers were bare.

Arjun looked at me, silent.

I hesitated, then edged closer, tugging gently at his sleeve:

"Arjun, I’m sorry..."

He stood still, lowering his eyes to look at me.

I didn’t know how to coax him, or what to say. Seeing him ignore me, I tried to tug at his finger again.

He still said nothing.

Left with no choice, I gently shook his finger.

His expression softened. With a sigh, he pulled me into his arms: "The mark’s faded again. Let me redo it."

Seeing him finally drop the subject, I obediently stretched out my neck for him to bite.

Arjun stayed home until noon, then left in a hurry, apparently for a meeting.

That afternoon, I received a photo from Arjun’s mother.

It was a scent compatibility report.

I opened it and saw Arjun’s name, and an omega’s name.

The compatibility was as high as 99%—almost perfect.

A number I could never hope to reach.

The WhatsApp group scrolled rapidly:

[Wow, Arjun’s mother took action herself. What a divine assist!]

[Great, the supporting girl will be swept out soon. Let our heroine in!]

I ignored the barrage and contacted a lawyer to ask if the divorce agreement was ready.

Because I’d paid extra for urgency last night, and since I wasn’t asking for much or trying to split his assets, the lawyer was especially fast.

By evening, after confirming all the details, she sent me the final contract.

I printed it out, stared at the thin stack of papers for a while, and waited for Arjun to come home.

At seven, he returned.