Marriage In The Pink City

Chapter 21

Namaste
Chapter 21

Abhimaan sped through the quiet streets on the outskirts of the Pink City, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind raced, and frustration boiled over as he slammed his fists against the steering. “I’m not ready,” he muttered angrily.

“I can’t be a father. Not now.” He replayed the night in his head, his jaw clenching tighter with each thought. How could Tanushree have missed those pills? How could things spiral out of control like this?

Back in the penthouse, Tanushree sat curled up on the bed, her knees pulled close to her chest. The three pregnancy tests lay before her. Her tears came quietly, as if she was afraid to even cry too loudly. Hours passed, the weight of the night pressing down on her until sleep finally took over.

When morning light filtered through the curtains, she stirred, blinking away the heaviness in her eyes. Slowly, she placed a hand on her flat stomach and whispered softly, “I love you, baby. You are wanted.”

Her words felt like a promise—a promise she intended to keep no matter what. With a sigh, she slid off the bed and glanced around, hoping Abhimaan had come home during the night. But the penthouse was eerily quiet. Apart from the soft clinking of dishes from the kitchen, the house was empty. Just the two housekeepers moving about, quietly going about their tasks.

Tanushree's heart sank. She had hoped, just for a moment, that he would be there, that he would have come back. But he hadn’t.

It was afternoon when Tanushree woke up from her nap. Her stomach growled, but she hadn’t eaten anything since last night. The heaviness in her heart made food feel unnecessary. She got up slowly, rubbing her eyes, and went to the kitchen where Reema, the house help, was busy cleaning.

“Reema didi... Maan ghar aa gaye kya?” she asked, a flicker of hope in her voice. 

Reema looked up from the dishes and shook her head gently. “Nahi, madam… abhi tak nahi aaye.” 

Just as Tanushree’s heart sank again, the doorbell rang. Her face lit up, and without wasting a second, she ran to the door, a smile already forming. Maybe he’s back! she thought. 

But when she opened it, her smile faltered. Standing there was a makeup artist and a stylist, their kits in hand.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the stylist said with a polite smile. “We’re here to help you get ready for the evening.”

Behind them was Manish, Abhimaan’s PA. He gave her a brief, businesslike nod. “Sir will meet you directly at the party venue. He’s tied up with some work,” Manish explained flatly, like it was just another routine update.

Tanushree stood frozen at the door for a moment, her heart heavy with disappointment. She forced herself to nod politely. “Okay... come in,” she whispered, stepping aside to let them in.

She closed the door quietly behind them, her mind a blur.

Tanushree sat still as the makeup artist gave her hair a final spritz. The soft fragrance lingered in the air, matching the delicate lilac of her saree. She glanced at herself in the mirror, tilting her head slightly. For a moment, she allowed herself to smile. I look beautiful, she thought. Maybe tonight things would feel normal again. She’d see Maan at the party, and they’d finally have a moment to talk. It would be okay—it had to be.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. It was Karan, her husband’s cousin and her brother-in-law. She swiped to answer.

“Haan, bhaiya... I’m coming,” she said, her voice a little rushed as she stood up.

Karan chuckled on the other end. “We’re waiting downstairs.”

“Okay, five minutes,” she promised before ending the call.

Tanushree took one last look at herself in the mirror, adjusting a loose strand of hair and smoothing down the pleats of her saree. She drew in a deep breath, letting it settle her nerves. With a small nod to herself, she turned and grabbed her clutch.

Whatever was waiting at the party—whatever was waiting with Maan—she was ready to face it. Or at least, she hoped she was.

In the car, Karan and Hema were already waiting. Hema looked up from her phone and gave Tanushree a warm smile as she slid into the backseat. 

“Finally! Bhabhi, you look stunning,” Hema said, turning to admire her.

Tanushree smiled faintly. “Thanks, didi.”

As Karan pulled the car onto the road, the couple chatted about random things—family gossip, Diwali plans, and the party. Tanushree tried to join in, but her mind kept drifting. She stared out the window, chewing the inside of her cheek, her thoughts circling back to Maan. Would he show up tonight? Would they finally talk? She kept replaying what she would say, hoping things would feel normal again. 

When they reached the venue, the hall was buzzing with energy—people laughing, chatting, and clinking glasses. Everyone looked busy, wrapped up in their conversations. Tanushree stuck close to Hema, glancing every so often at the entrance, waiting—hoping—to see Maan walk in.

She could feel people’s eyes on her. The women whispered, their glances not so subtle. The men, too, sneaked looks, as if trying to admire her without getting caught. 

Hema leaned in, giving her a playful nudge. “Bhabhi, everyone’s staring at you! You look absolutely breathtaking today.”

Tanushree smiled politely. “I’ll just use the washroom,” she said softly, needing a moment alone.

As she walked toward the washroom, a wave of nausea hit her. Her hand went to her stomach, trying to steady herself. Passing by a group of women, she heard them talking—and her steps faltered. 

“She’s from a middle-class family,” one of them said, her tone laced with disdain.

“And she’s only finished school. Definitely not the kind of girl for the Rathore family,” another one added, a laugh hidden in her voice. “Exactly, not a Rathore family material at all.”

Tanushree’s heart sank, but it was the next words that shattered her.

“Looks like Abhimaan’s already bored of her,” someone whispered. 

“Yes, didn’t he leave their reception early? Went straight to Mumbai to meet Sophia I heard,” the first woman said knowingly. 

Her chest tightened, and it felt like all the air had left the room. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes stinging with tears. Pressing her hand over her mouth, she tried to stop the sob building in her throat. 

‘Sophia... He left me that night for her?’

Without thinking, she quickened her pace, desperate to get to the washroom before the tears spilled over. As soon as she made it inside, she leaned heavily against the sink, gripping the counter like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

Her breath came in sharp bursts, and silent tears streamed down her face. The bright lights and white tiles around her blurred, making the space feel too loud, too bright, too much. 

The words kept echoing in her head, cruel and unrelenting. ‘He left me… He went to Sophia...’

She closed her eyes, hoping the pain would ease, but it only grew sharper, sitting heavy in her chest. All she could do was stand there, gripping the counter and holding herself together—barely.

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I just hope all those who aren't voting. You all miss the tastemaker packet in your noodles.

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