Chapter 1: The Day Everything Fell Apart At twenty-one, Kavya had already learned that exhaustion could become a way of life. She woke before sunrise, packed lunch in a steel container, and travelled across Hyderabad to work at an electronics assembly plant in Sanath Nagar. By the time she returned home, her feet ached, her shoulders hurt, and all she wanted was a hot meal and an hour of peace. Instead, she usually found her husband, Rahul, recording videos. He had dreams of becoming a social media celebrity. There was nothing wrong with having dreams, Kavya often reminded herself. What troubled her was that Rahul seemed willing to sacrifice everything else to pursue them. Rent could wait. Electricity bills could wait. Even their groceries sometimes had to wait. His latest camera equipment, however, could never wait. For over a year, they had been living in a small annexe behind his father's house. The arrangement had been temporary, or so they had promised themselves when they f...
It was still light outside, but inside the drawing room, with the curtains drawn and the last of the firewood smouldering in the old fireplace, the room lay in deep shadows.
Raghav sat in one of them, and he did not mind. The dimness gave him the courage to keep his eyes fixed as ardently as he pleased on the young woman sitting near the firelight.
Nandini was a handsome girl, with the rich, healthy complexion of someone who had grown up in the South Indian sun. She sat comfortably in a wooden armchair, stroking the smooth coat of the cat curled in her lap. Now and then, she sent a slow glance towards the shadow where her visitor sat.
They spoke quietly about ordinary things—the previous evening's reception at a friend's house, the next week's wedding, and a new shop that had opened near the main road. Neither seemed particularly interested in the conversation. Their thoughts were elsewhere.
Nandini knew that Raghav loved her. He was an honest, rather awkward man, too straightforward to hide his feelings and too simple-minded to think there was any reason to do so. For the past two weeks, he had sought her company eagerly and persistently, finding one excuse after another to visit her family home in the heart of Vijayawada.
She was waiting confidently for him to propose. She intended to accept him.
Raghav was not particularly handsome. His round face, unremarkable features and somewhat heavy manner did little to attract attention. But he came from an exceptionally wealthy family. His father had built a substantial business in cotton trading and property, and Raghav was expected to inherit a fortune that people in their circle discussed with barely concealed admiration.
Nandini liked the comfort that money could provide. She had no intention of pretending otherwise, even to herself.
Her family was respectable, and they lived comfortably enough, but there was a difference between comfort and the kind of security Raghav's wealth could offer. She liked good clothes, well-appointed homes, evenings at the better clubs, and the freedom to travel without having to calculate every expense. Marriage to Raghav would make all these things permanently available to her.
During a pause in their conversation, when the talk had drifted from the last family gathering to the next, the door opened.
A young man entered.
Nandini recognised him immediately. It was Arvind, an old friend of her elder brother, Suresh. Raghav knew him too, having met him on several occasions.
Arvind crossed the room in a few quick steps. Nandini turned towards him, still holding the cat in her lap. He bent over her chair and, before she could guess what he intended—for he had not noticed Raghav sitting in the shadows—pressed a lingering kiss on her lips.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Raghav rose slowly from his chair.
Nandini stood up almost at once. Arvind straightened, his face caught between embarrassment and a faint, defiant amusement.
"I think," Raghav said, fumbling for words, "I should leave. I had no idea—I mean, I didn't realise that—I must be going."
He clutched his car keys in both hands, staring at them as though they might tell him what to do. He did not seem to notice that Nandini had extended her hand towards him. Her composure, usually so dependable, had deserted her. She could not bring herself to speak.
Raghav turned and walked out.
Arvind watched him go. Then he looked at Nandini.
"Good Lord, Nandini! I didn't see him sitting there. I swear I didn't. I know this looks terribly awkward for you. But you'll forgive me this once, won't you? It was the first time I've made such a mistake."
"Don't come near me," she said sharply.
He stopped.
"What on earth is the matter with you?" he asked.
"What do you mean by walking into the house without even calling out?"
"I came in with Suresh, as I often do. He went upstairs, and I came in here hoping to find you. I had no idea anyone else was here. It was an accident, Nandini. Surely you can understand that."
"An accident!" Her voice rose. "You walk into a room and kiss me without even looking to see who's there, and you call it an accident?"
"I have explained what happened. What more do you want me to say?" His own voice had cooled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. But I didn't know he was here."
"Let me pass."
He moved aside.
"Please, Nandini," he said, his tone softening. "Don't make this into something it isn't. You know me. You know I've never meant you any harm."
She looked at him with open anger.
"Don't tell me what I know. Whether I ever forgive you will depend on rather more than your explanation."
He watched her leave the room, and for once, Arvind seemed to have nothing further to say.
At the reception held the following week at a family friend's house, Nandini spotted Raghav standing near a group of older men.
He looked miserable.
She approached him with an easy frankness that surprised him, considering what had happened between them.
"Raghav, could I speak to you for a minute?"
He turned towards her. The unhappiness in his face was plain, though he tried to conceal it.
"Of course."
She smiled, but there was a troubled quality to it. When she slipped her hand through his arm and led him away from the others, his expression changed. A small ray of hope appeared amid his embarrassment.
They found a quiet corner near the covered veranda, away from the noise of conversation and the clinking of teacups. Potted palms stood along the wall, and through the open arches came the sounds of traffic from the road outside.
Nandini took a breath.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have asked you to speak privately," she began. "But I've been terribly uncomfortable since that afternoon. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."
Raghav looked at her intently.
"I keep wondering what you must have thought of me," she continued. "You must have misunderstood what happened. I was so upset that day, and I couldn't explain anything properly."
His expression softened. She could almost see the hope gathering in his eyes.
"Of course, I know that what I do is no concern of yours," she said, lowering her gaze. "You and I aren't related, and I have no right to expect you to believe anything simply because I tell you so. But I wanted you to understand that Arvind is an old family friend. He and my brother have been close for years. He's always been in and out of our house, and sometimes he behaves as though he belongs to the family himself."
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
"We've known each other since we were young. In a way, he's almost like a cousin. I know that sounds ridiculous, and I shouldn't have to explain it to anyone. But when I thought you might have got the wrong impression of me..." Her voice faltered. "I found it very difficult to bear."
Raghav's face had changed completely. The misery that had settled there since their last meeting was giving way to a shy, almost boyish happiness.
"Nandini," he said, "does it really matter to you what I think?"
She looked up at him.
"Of course it does."
He hesitated, then smiled.
"May I call you Nandini?"
She laughed softly, as though the question had caught her by surprise.
"You've been coming to our house every day for two weeks. You can certainly call me Nandini."
He laughed too, relieved.
They walked slowly along the veranda, talking of nothing in particular. When they returned to the gathering, Raghav's face was radiant.
Nandini's was triumphant.
The wedding took place a few months later.
It was a grand affair, held at a well-known marriage hall in Vijayawada, with rows of brass lamps, fresh jasmine garlands and enough guests to keep the caterers rushing between the kitchen and the dining area throughout the day.
Raghav was a happy bridegroom. He looked at his new wife with the same open admiration he had shown her from the beginning, apparently unaware of how carefully she had arranged the course of events that had brought them together.
Arvind was among the guests.
He waited until a moment when Nandini stood alone, away from the women gathered around her, discussing the wedding jewellery and the elaborate arrangements.
He approached her with a smile.
"Your husband has sent me to kiss you."
A quick blush spread across Nandini's face and down her smooth neck.
"Has he?" she asked.
"Yes. He told me he doesn't want his marriage to put an end to the friendship we've always had. He seems to think it would be a shame if things became awkward between us."
Arvind's smile widened.
"I don't know what you've told him about me, but he's being remarkably generous. He actually suggested that I come and give you a kiss, just as I used to."
Nandini looked at him steadily. A faint, insolent smile touched her lips.
"It seems only natural for a husband to be generous on an occasion like this," she said. "And I suppose he trusts you rather more than he ought to."
Arvind regarded her for a moment.
She felt like a chess player who had watched the game unfold exactly as she had intended. Her eyes were bright, her expression warm with expectation. She tilted her face towards him ever so slightly, and her lips parted in a smile that left little doubt about the kiss she was inviting.
Arvind's expression changed.
"You know," he said quietly, "I didn't tell Raghav this, because it would have seemed ungrateful. But I can tell you now."
He paused.
"I've stopped kissing women. It's dangerous."
For an instant, Nandini could only stare at him.
Then he gave her a small, polite nod and walked away to join the other guests.
She remained where she was, her smile fading slowly.
Well, she had Raghav and his fortune. A woman could not have everything in this world, and perhaps it was unreasonable of her to expect it.
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