She stared at it for three rings before answering.
“Divya.” His voice was rough. Strained. “Are you?”
He stopped. Started again. “Stay home until further notice. PR team working on strategy. I’ll update when it’s safe to return.”
No greeting. No real question. Just instruction.
Her throat tightened. For months, she’d managed chaos. Rearranged schedules. Solved problems. Now she was the problem.
“Okay, Boss.”
She replied and hung up. The words felt heavier than ever. Like surrender. Like accepting that nothing between them, not the mandap, not the sindoor, not the way he’d looked at her, had changed what she fundamentally was to him.
His assistant. Temporary. Replaceable.
Outside, evening unfolded normally. Streetlights flickered. Scooters hummed. A vendor called prices in tired rhythm.
Life continued with stubborn indifference.
Inside her curtained corner, time stalled.
Chapter 13
Day Two
Her father did not leave at 6:30.
For eleven years, same time, same white kurta, same route. Through fever and rain, he’d never missed his morning walk.
This morning, the door didn’t open.
She found him in the living room, newspaper folded, unread. “Aren’t you going for your walk?”
“I’m tired.”
Tiredness had never stopped him before.
Later, reaching for a glass, she noticed a prescription bottle tucked behind tea tins. Blood pressure medicine. Dosage doubled. Date: yesterday.
She put it back exactly where she found it.
By afternoon, her father napped, another broken routine. From the kitchen came quiet crying. Divya didn’t go in.
Aditya stormed through the door, anger barely contained. “Anshul and Vikrant’s parents told them to keep distance. Until this is clarified.”
Clarified.As if their family were a stain.
“My project partner asked for reassignment. Said he’s uncomfortable.”
Divya had no solutions. Just the same thin reassurance. “It will pass.”
“That’s not good enough,” he snapped, then looked away, ashamed of the crack in his voice.
By evening, dinner passed in strained normalcy. Electricity bills. The neighbor’s baby. Anything but headlines.
Afterward, her father called her to the balcony. “Three men approached me in the park yesterday.” His voice was quiet. Careful. “Asked if I was Divya Mathur’s father.”
Her throat tightened.
