The days following their honeymoon flew by, and Rhea found herself settling into her new life as Rajat’s wife in the vast Malhotra mansion. Rajat’s family was warm and welcoming, showering her with love and attention. But despite the grandness of her new home and the endless string of social events, Rhea couldn’t shake the sense of unease that had crept into her heart during their honeymoon.
Rajat had returned to work almost immediately, leaving early in the mornings and coming home late at night. Their intimate moments, though passionate, were fleeting. When they were together, Rajat was his charming, affectionate self—whispering sweet nothings, drawing her close to him every chance he got. Yet, there were moments when his attention seemed to drift away, his phone lighting up with unknown numbers, and his expressions growing tense.
One evening, Rhea sat in the sprawling living room, flipping through a magazine, waiting for Rajat to return. The house was quieter than usual, with his family members scattered about in their rooms or out attending business meetings. She glanced at the clock for the fifth time that hour—Rajat was late again.
She tried calling him earlier, but it had gone straight to voicemail.
The door creaked open, and she jumped slightly, turning to see Rajat stepping inside, looking worn out. His tie was loose, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the stress in his posture.
“Long day?” Rhea asked softly, setting aside the magazine and getting up to greet him.
“Yeah,” Rajat muttered, running a hand through his hair as he loosened his tie further. “Sorry, I got caught up with something.”
Rhea walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace. “You’ve been caught up a lot lately,” she said, her tone gentle but laced with curiosity. “Is everything alright?”
Rajat stiffened for a brief moment before relaxing into her touch. “It’s just work, Rhea,” he replied, brushing his lips against her forehead. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“You say that, but you’ve been so distant,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Even when we’re together, it feels like part of you is somewhere else.”
Rajat sighed and pulled away slightly, looking down at her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. I’m just handling a lot of things right now, but I promise it’s nothing serious.”
She studied his face, searching for any crack in his carefully placed mask. “You know you can tell me anything, right? We’re married now, Rajat. Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”
“I know, love,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “But trust me, everything’s fine.”
She wanted to believe him—wanted to trust the man who had vowed to love and protect her—but the nagging feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away. Still, she pushed it aside, offering him a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss her.
Their lips met, slow and tender at first, but soon the tension between them gave way to a more desperate, needy exchange. Rajat’s hands roamed her body, pulling her closer as if trying to lose himself in her. Rhea responded, matching his intensity, hoping to bridge the distance that had grown between them.
They made love there in the living room, the world outside fading away as they clung to each other. In those moments, Rhea felt the full weight of his passion—his need for her—but when it was over, as they lay in the afterglow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still missing.
Rajat’s phone buzzed again, its screen lighting up with another unknown number. This time, he didn’t ignore it. He grabbed the phone from the coffee table and quickly silenced it, his expression unreadable.
“Who keeps calling you?” Rhea asked, propping herself up on her elbow, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity. “It’s the same number, isn’t it?”
“It’s just business,” Rajat said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice as he sat up, reaching for his discarded shirt. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Business?” Rhea repeated, her brow furrowing. “At this hour? And why are you always so secretive about it?”
Rajat stood up and ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “I’m not being secretive. It’s just… complicated, alright?”
Rhea watched him, her heart sinking as the distance between them grew once more. “Rajat, we’re married now. I thought we were supposed to share everything.”
He turned to her, his eyes softening slightly. “We do share everything, Rhea. But there are some things I can’t talk about right now. I need you to trust me on this.”
She wanted to trust him—wanted to believe that whatever was going on wasn’t as serious as it felt. But the cracks in their seemingly perfect marriage were starting to show, and she didn’t know how to ignore them.
Days passed, and the unease in Rhea’s heart only deepened. Rajat’s late-night disappearances became more frequent, and the cryptic phone calls never seemed to stop. He had always been vague about his work, but now it felt like there was an entire part of his life she wasn’t privy to.
One evening, as she sat in their bedroom, waiting for Rajat to return once again, she decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed answers.
When Rajat finally walked through the door, looking as tired and distracted as ever, Rhea stood up and met him halfway, her expression firm.
“We need to talk,” she said, crossing her arms.
Rajat paused, his hand still on his tie. “What’s this about?”
“It’s about you,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “About the fact that you’re always disappearing, always brushing me off with excuses. I can’t keep pretending that everything is fine when it clearly isn’t.”
Rajat sighed, his frustration evident. “Rhea, I told you—”
“No,” she interrupted, her voice firmer now. “You’ve told me nothing. Every time I ask, you give me the same vague answer. I’m your wife, Rajat. Don’t I deserve to know what’s going on?”
He looked at her for a long moment, the tension between them palpable. Finally, he ran a hand down his face and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s not what you think,” he said quietly. “But it’s… complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Rhea asked, sitting beside him, her heart racing. “Is it something illegal? Are you in trouble?”
Rajat laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… family business. My father left a lot of things for me to handle, and it’s been… challenging.”
“Family business?” she echoed, confusion settling in. “Rajat, your family is wealthy and well-respected. What could possibly be so challenging that you can’t even talk to me about it?”
He looked at her then, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place—fear, maybe? Or was it guilt?
“You’ll know in time,” he said softly. “But for now, please… trust me.”
Rhea stared at him, her heart torn between the love she had for him and the growing suspicion gnawing at her. “I do trust you,” she whispered. “But I need you to trust me too.”
Rajat reached for her hand, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “I do, Rhea. I promise, when the time is right, I’ll tell you everything.”
She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold on to the man she’d fallen in love with. But as she leaned into his embrace, that small voice in the back of her mind whispered again: Something wasn’t right.
And this time, she knew she couldn’t ignore it.
