Chapter 6: Last Glance at a Lost Home

I knew Arjun wouldn’t come after me, but I still looked back a few times, unable to help myself. The street was dark and quiet, the only light from the corner chaiwala’s stall. I wrapped my shawl tighter, telling myself not to cry. But every time I heard footsteps, my heart leapt, hoping—foolishly—that he’d come after me. He never did.

On the way to the pet shop, I received a message from Arjun: The auto rattled over a pothole as my phone vibrated. My hands shook as I unlocked the screen.

[I’ll give you two days to calm down.]

The words were cold, dismissive. Like my heartbreak was nothing more than a childish tantrum.

[I don’t have time for your drama.]

I bit my lip, blinking away tears. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but said nothing.

When I didn’t reply, he sent another: [Priya needs time to resign.]

The finality of it stung. He was already moving on, making arrangements, as if our marriage was just another transaction to be handled.

As the auto rickshaw sped away, I caught one last glimpse of our balcony—lights still on, as if waiting for a home that no longer existed.