Chapter 8: Peanuts, Perks, and Diwali Flashbacks

While drinking, I deliberately acted depressed, explaining the message I sent earlier was meant for my ex.

Then I asked, "Bro, what do you think I should do? I really can’t let go."

He chuckled, "Bro, I get it. It’s normal for guys. But you have a wife and kids now, just make sure your wife doesn’t find out."

I asked, "Be honest, if you were me, what would you do?"

He’d had five or six beers by then, probably a little tipsy, and finally spilled everything.

He said, "Bro, to be honest, I’ve been in the same boat."

Then he started pouring it all out.

He said he was engaged, but at the class reunion he saw the class beauty—now even more gorgeous, totally irresistible. After the reunion, they went to a hotel nearby.

Hearing this, I was disgusted, but kept a straight face and let him talk.

He said he felt guilty towards his fiancée, but the class beauty wouldn’t let go, kept asking him out. In the end, he had to lie to his fiancée about a business trip and went out of town with the class beauty for two days. Now she’s obsessed, keeps asking him to break up with his fiancée, but he doesn’t really want to.

I said, "Then why not seriously consider being with the class beauty?"

He said, "Bro, the thrill is tempting, but it’s like this plate of peanuts—good for snacking, but you can’t live on peanuts instead of rice."

Honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

But your mistake is, damn it, you’re eating peanuts from someone else’s bowl.

The waiter gave us a look, probably wondering what all this emotional talk was about, but in India, even strangers know when to look away politely. The kebabs were getting cold, but neither of us cared.

He kept going, saying his fiancée is an only child, her parents are a doctor and a teacher, they’ll have pensions, can help with the kids, even bought her a flat before marriage—told them to just move in after the wedding, no EMI stress.

Hearing this, I looked down on him even more. So he doesn’t want to break up because of her as a person, but because he can’t let go of her family’s perks.

I poured him another drink, "Bro, you’re something else—just a class reunion and she can’t forget you."

He laughed, then leaned in, looking all mysterious: "Bro, let me tell you something else."

I looked at him, gut telling me it wasn’t anything good.

He said, when he went home for Diwali, the class beauty actually contacted him first. She had a boyfriend then, hadn’t broken up yet, and they spent two days together at a resort.

I frowned, remembering that during Diwali this year, there were two days I couldn’t reach my girlfriend. Every night she’d just send a quick message, saying she was too busy with relatives to check her phone.

So… this is what really happened?

Looking back, I really was just a fool.

That night, while neighbours burst crackers and shouted 'Happy Diwali' across balconies, I sat alone, phone in hand, sending her a message she’d never read. Even now, the memory burns more than any firecracker ever could.