Incomplete Love

Cheap

Arjun paced down the dimly lit street, still shaken by what had just happened. The cigarette burned between his fingers, but it did little to calm his nerves. The guilt gnawed at him, but his frustration and anger were louder. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Shiva’s name. Without thinking twice, he dialed.

Shiva answered on the second ring. “Arjun? Where are you, man? I haven’t seen you in days.”

Arjun exhaled deeply, leaning against a streetlight. "Shiva, I need something," he said, his voice heavy with desperation.

Shiva paused for a moment, sensing the urgency in Arjun's tone. "What is it now? You sound messed up."

Arjun took another drag of his cigarette, his voice low and almost slurred. "Listen... is there any girl you know who can come over to my place? You know... to satisfy me?"

There was a stunned silence on the other end. Then Shiva’s voice came through, sharp and disapproving. "What the hell, Arjun? What are you even talking about?"

"You heard me," Arjun snapped, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I’m asking if there’s any girl who’ll come over. I’m losing my mind, man. I can’t keep doing this alone."

"Are you serious right now?" Shiva's voice was hard, tinged with disappointment. "Arjun, you're married. What the hell are you even thinking?"

Arjun’s expression hardened, though deep down he knew Shiva was right. "Ishita doesn’t get it, Shiva. None of this makes sense anymore. I need something, someone. I need... an escape."

Shiva was silent for a few moments, and then he spoke, his tone firm. "Arjun, listen to yourself. You sound like a cheap fellow. You think this is the answer? Getting some random girl to ‘satisfy’ you? That’s not going to solve anything."

Arjun’s jaw clenched. "Don’t lecture me right now, Shiva. You don’t understand—"

"I understand more than you think," Shiva cut him off. "You’re not the only one who’s been through stuff, but this? This isn’t you, Arjun. You’re better than this. You’re just lost right now."

Arjun let out a bitter laugh. "Better than this? Do you even know what I’ve been doing lately? You have no idea. I don’t even recognize myself anymore."

"You need to stop this, man. You’re spiraling," Shiva said, his voice softer now but still steady. "You’ve already got a wife, Arjun. Ishita. Remember her? You don’t need some random girl to fix your problems. You need to get your shit together."

"I don’t care anymore," Arjun muttered, his voice cracking slightly. "None of this matters."

"It matters, Arjun," Shiva said firmly. "You’re acting like you’ve got nothing to lose, but you’ve got everything to lose. You have a wife who cares about you. You're just too drunk or messed up to see it."

Arjun didn’t respond right away. His mind was racing, thoughts colliding in a chaotic mess. He knew Shiva was right. Deep down, he knew. But the emptiness inside him felt unbearable.

"Shiva," Arjun finally said, his voice almost pleading. "I don’t know what to do anymore."

There was a long pause, and then Shiva spoke, his tone gentle but serious. "You need help, Arjun. Real help. You can't keep doing this to yourself, or to Ishita. It's not too late to fix this, but you’ve got to stop behaving like this."

Arjun closed his eyes, leaning his head against the streetlight. "I don’t know if I can."

"You can," Shiva insisted. "But you’ve got to want to. No more running away, no more using women as a distraction. It’s time to face the mess you've made and try to fix it."

Arjun let out a long, shaky breath. "Yeah... maybe."

"Call me when you're sober," Shiva said. "We’ll talk properly then. But for now, go home, Arjun. And think about what you're doing before it’s too late."

Arjun didn’t respond as he hung up the phone, his hand trembling slightly. He tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot. His head was still a mess, but for the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of something else—guilt, regret, maybe even the tiniest glimmer of clarity.

With heavy steps, he turned and started walking, unsure of where he was heading but knowing that something had to change.