Everyone has that one chapter they don't read out aloud; Some people have a lot of them
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St Martin's known for its tales of - true friendship and competitive spirit.
This story is about how they deal with their lives once the darkest side of thei...
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Kiyan's POV
I was glad it was raining. Glad, because it gave me a reason for staring out of the window of my office and appear preoccupied, while the poor lady wept her heart out.
She was crying because I had just given her proof of her husband’s affair – the photographs lying on the table, of her husband and her best friend, in various compromising positions.
I prepared myself for the uncomfortable task of saying something reassuring. I began with a feeble attempt to pacify her. “Mrs Singh, would you like some water?”
The hitherto inaudible sobs rose to an embarrassingly high pitch. “That bitch Seema! I will kill her! We used to play tennis together. How could she do this to me?” she said in between sobs.
To my mind, the answer was simple. Seema accomplished this by being twenty kilos lighter. Nevertheless, I maintained my silence and nodded sympathetically.
The rain ceased, forcing me to stop staring outside. I glanced at my watch and realised it had been over half an hour since I had shown her the pictures.
This was my tenth extramarital affair case since I had become a detective, and each time I was confounded by the seemingly simple task of bringing up the subject of my fee with some poor lady who had just discovered the infidelity of her spouse.
At the same time, I had learned from previous experience that if the disturbed wife left the office without paying, I might as well kiss my fee goodbye. The actions of an emotional woman were only as predictable as the actions of the Indian cricket team during a series.
I got up from my chair and walked towards her. I stood behind her, whispered a few words of empathy, and placed my hands on her shoulder.
Irritated with the aura I walked to the nearby lake and I knew a secret place from where the view was amazing. It was 5 years ago when I got to know about this but Nothing had changed in the five years. I wasn't a local then, I ain't one now.
But to my surprise my secret territory was occupied by someone. To be precise my beautiful young neighbour
"Good afternoon Kriti" I said.
"How do you know my name? " She asked plainly.
"We've met before, I'm your neighbour Kiyan.. "
"I remember not telling you my name at all" She said
"But your mom did, she kept praising both of her daughters and also complained how Kyra had got quiet after *the incident* Given the situation that she wouldn't come and talk to a stranger I assumed you were Kriti" I said
She looked at me and then at the lake, she looked like she was thinking about something
"I come here whenever I feel irritated..." I said trying to prolong the conversation.
