Chapter 43

The dim streetlights of Dubai whizzed past as Mayank gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles pale against the leather. Siya's words kept replaying in his mind, a relentless loop of everything Niharika had endured. He could hear every syllable—the betrayal, the loneliness, the suffocating isolation. The thought of her suffering so deeply, silently, made his chest ache and his stomach churn with anger.

He clenched his jaw, his foot pressing a little harder on the accelerator as he merged onto the highway. His hands tightened further around the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

How could they have done that to her? he thought, rage bubbling beneath his composed exterior. How could anyone treat her like that—manipulate her, isolate her, and then throw her away like she didn't matter?

A soft chime interrupted his brooding. His phone lit up on the console, displaying a message from Meera.

Meera: Yeah, I know Niharika. Why? What happened? How do you know her?

Mayank's gaze flickered to the message, and a new idea took root in his mind. Meera had been close with a lot of people back then. She might know more—more about the group, more about the dynamics, and maybe even more about what Niharika had gone through.

"I'll ask her for help," he muttered under his breath, determination hardening his features. If it means getting Niharika the closure she deserves, I'll talk to whoever it takes.

When Mayank finally pulled into the driveway, the sight of their shared home brought an unexpected wave of emotion. He sat in the car for a moment, his hands still gripping the wheel, his mind racing. He exhaled sharply, trying to center himself before heading inside.

~•~

The sound of the television hummed softly as Mayank entered the living room. Niharika was curled up on the couch, watching some show with mild interest. She looked so at peace, so normal, that Mayank's heart ached.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice steady despite the storm brewing within him.

She glanced up and smiled. "Hey. You're back early."

"Yeah," he replied, walking over and sitting beside her. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, taking in the faint smile on her lips, the way her hair fell softly over her shoulder. How does she hide it all so well? he wondered.

"What are you watching?" he asked, leaning back casually.

"Some random show," she said with a shrug. "Nothing too interesting. Just passing time."

He wanted to say something, anything, to comfort her—to tell her he knew, that he understood at least a fraction of what she had been through. But he couldn't. Not yet. If she found out he knew, she might shut down entirely, and that was the last thing he wanted.

After a few minutes of small talk, he cleared his throat. "I'm meeting Arjun and Imran in a bit."

She nodded, her attention still on the screen. "Okay. Have fun."

He hesitated, watching her for a moment longer, before standing up and leaving the room.

~•~

Arjun's apartment was filled with the faint scent of coffee and the low hum of chatter as Mayank joined his friends in the living room. Imran handed him a cup, but Mayank barely noticed. His mind was too preoccupied.

"So," Arjun started, leaning back on the couch. "What's going on? You sounded... tense on the phone."

Mayank exhaled sharply, setting the cup down. "It's about Niharika."

Both men straightened, their expressions turning serious.

"What about her?" Imran asked.

Mayank launched into everything Siya and Samar had told him earlier—the group, the betrayal, the way her so-called best friend had turned against her, the manipulation, and the fallout that left her isolated and broken. His voice grew sharper with each detail, anger seeping into every word.

Arjun's jaw tightened. "That's disgusting. She didn't deserve any of that."

"No, she didn't," Mayank agreed, his tone bitter. "And the worst part? That group still talks about her. Still worships that idiot's ego."

Arjun slammed his fist against the armrest. "Let's take them on. Right now. I'll fly out if I have to."

"No." Mayank's voice was firm. "This isn't about revenge, Arjun. Fighting won't fix anything. Niharika doesn't need a brawl—she needs closure. They broke her trust, her confidence. Fighting them won't undo that."

"So what's the plan?" Imran asked.

"I don't know yet," Mayank admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I do know that before I can fix this, I need to fix things with her. She doesn't see me as her husband—she sees me as a roommate."

"Of course she does," Arjun said bluntly. "You've treated her like one."

"That's not fair," Mayank snapped.

"Isn't it?" Imran countered. "When have you ever told her you're her husband? You think she's going to magically open up to you when you've been acting like her roommate this whole time?"

Mayank opened his mouth to argue but stopped, the weight of Imran's words sinking in.

"Before you fix her," Imran continued, his tone softer now, "you need to fix the way you see her. Are you just her roommate? Or are you her husband? Because the dynamics change depending on what you decide."

Mayank fell silent, his thoughts racing. He thought about the way he felt when she was near, the possessiveness that surged through him when Zaina's name came up, the pride he felt when his family praised her. He thought about her patience, her kindness, the way she handled everything with grace.

"I see her as my wife," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I always have. I just didn't realize it until now."

"Good," Arjun said with a nod. "That's the first step. Now go tell her that. She can't open up to a roommate, but maybe she can open up to her husband."

~•~

When Mayank walked back into the house, the lights were dim. He found Niharika in her room, lying on her stomach, her laptop propped up in front of her. She was so engrossed in whatever she was watching that she didn't notice him at first.

"Hey," he said—his voice soft as he stepped into the room.

She looked up, surprised. "Hey. You're back early."

He nodded and walked over, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Can we talk?"

She closed her laptop and sat up, tucking her legs beneath her. "Sure. What's up?"

Mayank took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I wanted to say... I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"For calling you a roommate," he said, his voice soft. "You're not my roommate, Niharika. You're my wife. And it's high time I start acting like your husband."

Her eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mayank..."

"I mean it," he said firmly. "I've been distant, and I've treated this marriage like it's temporary, but it's not. You're my wife, and I want to be your husband—not just in name, but in every way that matters. I want to be someone you can rely on, someone you can trust. So... will you give this a chance? A real chance?"

Niharika stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Good," Mayank said, relief flooding his voice. He stood up and walked over to her dresser, picking up the sindoor and mangalsutra.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"My wife needs these," he said simply, sitting back down in front of her.

He carefully parted her hair and applied the sindoor to her forehead, his movements gentle and reverent. Then, he fastened the mangalsutra around her neck, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin.

Niharika touched the mangalsutra with trembling fingers, her eyes shining with emotion. "Mayank..."

"You're my wife," he said again, his voice filled with quiet determination. "And I'm going to be your husband. Starting now."

She smiled, a real, genuine smile that made his heart swell. For the first time, Mayank felt like they were truly beginning something—not just a marriage, but a partnership. This was the first step to fixing everything.

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