5. AARUSHI

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"Aarushi?" I heard Varun's voice calling me from the hallway.

"I'm here," I replied, stirring the gravy. He walked into the kitchen, as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, rolling them up.

"What are you cooking?" he asked, his tone casual as he glanced over my shoulder.

"Dal makhani. Samarth's favorite," I said, keeping my focus on the stove.

He nodded, "Hmm. Make sure it's good. He's our guest, after all. At least be nice to him, okay?" His words were sharp, a tone that was all too familiar for me since the past few months.

Anger raged inside me, hot and quick. Varun always managed to trigger me. 

"Don't worry, Varun," my voice was tight. "Samarth isn't as judgy as you."

"Oh, judgy, am I?" he let out a sarcastic sigh as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "Look who's talking."

And here we go again.

"Is it really necessary for you to bring this up every evening?" I asked.

"Well, I've learned something from you over the years, Aarushi," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Fighting and disrespecting."

I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the anger that was burning at the tip of my tongue. I didn't want to ruin the evening, but Varun's behavior was making it impossible not to argue.

"Varun, for the millionth time," I began, struggling to keep my voice steady, "I wasn't trying to disrespect your boss at the party. I was just trying to have a normal conversation. What was I supposed to do if our views didn't match and he couldn't take it sportingly? I wasn't rude at all. And your anger about this, even after four days, is just... unbelievable!"

"Aarushi," he cut in, his tone harsh, "he's my BOSS. And I hope you understand that bosses, especially mine, have egos the size of mountains. All I asked was for you to go and apologize to him after the party. But no, you couldn't even do that. Do you even care about me? My job? My position?"

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "Varun, why should I apologize for something I didn't even do? I wasn't rude. I was just explaining—"

"Explaining?" he interrupted with a hollow laugh. "The way you were talking, no one would believe you were trying to be polite. You were practically fighting with him, just like you do with me, every. Single. Day." His voice rose with frustration. "Do you have any idea what he must think of me now? Of you? Of us?"

"Varun," I said, my voice firm, "I wasn't at fault. I really don't think someone at his level would even remember a minor disagreement with the wife of one of his employees."

"Oh, really?" Varun scoffed, his laugh dripping with sarcasm. "Guess what? Today's promotion went to Mr. Mahendra Sharma, while I was the one who worked my ass off for it!"

"What?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the kitchen. "And I'm sure it's all because of you!"

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. How could he blame me for missing out on his promotion?

"Wow, Varun, you think you didn't get promoted because of me? Just because of a silly discussion? How can you be so—so escapist? He probably doesn't even remember me. And I'm certain the reason you didn't get the promotion has nothing to do with me. It's not because your wife had a differing opinion from your boss."

He stood there, silent, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind. This had been going on for days, and he wasn't letting it go. He was constantly finding ways to taunt me, to blame me.

"Even that night," I continued, "after we came home, I apologized to you because I saw how upset you were. I do care about you, Varun. That's why I apologized. But your boss probably doesn't even remember what happened. He talks to so many people every day. I just don't see how this is such a big deal. I don't understand how you've become so—so burdensome."

The kitchen fell into an uncomfortable silence. The weight of our unresolved issues hung heavy in the air.

"Aarushi," Varun finally spoke, wanting to put this off, "it's not about that time only. you know it's much more. but anyway, we're two people with different views. Arguing isn't getting us anywhere. We have to face it—we're not the same anymore. This isn't what we want."

He placed the water bottle back in the fridge, and I opened my mouth to respond, but the words froze. He wasn't wrong. We had been so far apart, it was hard to remember what had brought us together in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, we had lost ourselves. We were both indecisive about what we wanted, but we were sure of one thing—we didn't want this. We stood there, staring into each other's eyes, wondering how we had ended up here. Our problems had grown too big, too deep to fix.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the silence. Within seconds, Tia appeared in the kitchen doorway.

I let out a sigh, releasing some of the tension I had been holding in.

We both forced smiles, pretending everything was fine.

"Sam's here," Tia said cheerfully, then quickly disappeared down the hall.

"Don't bring this up in front of Vyom or Tia," Varun whispered harshly as he turned to leave the kitchen. "They don't deserve to suffer because of YOUR issues."

"It's OUR issues," I thought, but the words remained trapped in my mind. I followed him out to welcome Sam..

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