Zipping the suitcase close, Khusi sighed tiredly, pushing herself to her feet. Her eyes raked over the almost empty guest room, in which she had shifted to 3 weeks ago, since the day Bhaskar made the relentless disclosure.
Till day before yesterday there were numerous boxes lying around the room, carrying all of Khusi's stuffs. The truck driver had come yesterday and took everything away, already starting it's venture.
Khusi was lost, empty and dead from inside. Her tears had stopped pouring in the last few days, after crying on several occasions, specially seeing Sanjana in her apartment getting pampered by Bhaskar.
Both the women hadn't talked to each other. Sanjana felt ashamed that she uprooted a family apart, and Khusi, though loathed Sanjana, couldn't bring herself to blame her entirely.
You can't clap with one hand.
Khusi hadn't bothered to contact her parents, nor knew whether her in-laws were aware of the situation. Though she highly doubted they would be concerned about her.
Swallowing a painful lump down her throat, she took the final item that belonged to her. A picture frame, containing her and Bhaskar's picture, captured on their 1st anniversary. Fresh tears swarmed in Khusi's eyes and her face scrunched into an ugly frown as she slumped down on the bed and sobbed silently for her loss.
She wasn't just leaving her husband behind, she was leaving the love of her life behind. The love with whom she had dreamt of growing old and sharing her happy years.
Perhaps, in another life.
*******
Walking out of the room, Khusi took a deep breath. She had vowed to never cry infront of Bhaskar the day he broke her heart. He wasn't worth her tears.
A calendar notification pinged on her phone and she quickly checked it, her eyebrows furrowing as a cynical smile appeared on her lips.
17th February. Her wedding date.
A scoff left pass Khusi's lips. It was quite ironic that she was getting divorced on her wedding date.
Grasping the telescopic handle, Khusi pulled the trolley down the hallway, another bag tucked on her shoulders.
"She doesn't want any alimony, she had made that clear."
"Okay, the fake documents regarding Khusi and you living separately from last year is also prepared ... "
Voices rang from the living room, one belonging to Bhaskar and another to Mohit, their divorce lawyer and Bhaskar's friend. She didn't know how Mohit managed to prepare the legal documents so fast, but she was thankful to him.
Tolerating Bhaskar and Sanjana was getting devastating for Khusi, every passing day. Her heart had silently bled.
The moment she stepped in the living room, the voices disappeared, welcoming Khusi with booming silence.
Three set of eyes zeroed in on her. Sanjana excused herself grabbing a glass of juice, her eyes downcasted, and walked into the room which used to belong to Khusi for the last 3 years.
Bhaskar shot up on his feet, and his friend Mohit passed Khusi a thinned lip smile, which Khusi didn't return.
"Khusi, here, have a seat."
Bhaskar was about to touch her shoulder when she quickly jerked herself back, passing Bhaskar a seething glare.
"Mrs. Goswami. You need to sign here."
Khusi sat down beside Mohit on the couch, her fingers tremoring as she grasped the pain in her hands. Her stomach clenched violently and her palms started sweating as the gravity of the situation set in.
YOU ARE READING
Not Her
Romance"I don't want to become a mother." This line is a taboo for women in some parts of the world, and so was for Khusi Mukherjee. At the age of 25, independent and single, she wanted to live her life according to her rules. But everything changed when...