Marriage In The Pink City

Chapter 23

Namaste
Chapter 23

Abhimaan arrived at the venue, his presence commanding attention for a brief moment as conversations slowed, and curious glances were thrown his way. But he didn’t care about the crowd; he was only looking for Tanushree. He scanned the room, his eyes restless, but she was nowhere to be found.

As soon as the auction ended, he walked over to Hema. “Where’s Tanu?” he asked, his voice tense.

Hema gave him a concerned look. “Bhabhi went home. She said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh... okay,” Abhimaan muttered, distracted.

“And she asked me to give you these,” Hema added, handing him the watch and the black credit card.

Abhimaan’s heart sank as he turned the items over in his hands. The watch was one that had mysteriously gone missing from his Mumbai penthouse a while ago. And the black card—he instantly recognized it. It was the same one he’d given to Sophia back when they were together, trying to help her out when her career had stalled.

A knot tightened in his stomach as realization hit him. He looked around the crowded room, his jaw clenching, only to lock eyes with a familiar smirk across the room. Sophia. She stood there, savoring her triumph, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

Abhimaan didn’t waste a second. “I’m going home,” he muttered to Hema and stormed toward the parking lot.

As he reached his car and unlocked the door, the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the pavement echoed behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Long time no see, baby,” Sophia purred.

He remained silent, gripping the car door handle tighter.

“Your wife’s such a bore,” she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “She was absolutely devastated when I told her about us. Poor thing couldn’t handle the truth about our *passionate* past.” Sophia chuckled, swirling the wine in her glass. “It was fun watching her squirm. Too bad I couldn’t tell her more. Would’ve made for an even better show.”

That was the last straw. In one swift move, Abhimaan spun around and grabbed Sophia by the hair, yanking her head back and pinning her roughly against the car. Her smug smile disappeared as she gasped, wide-eyed.

“Stay away from my wife, Sophia,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Don’t you dare push me.”

Sophia tried to twist out of his grip, but he held her firmly.

“If I ever see you near her again, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” he warned, his dark gaze burning into hers. “Mark my words, prison life is waiting for you. You won’t get away with this.”

Sophia’s smirk faded entirely, replaced with a flicker of fear. She knew Abhimaan wasn’t bluffing.

Tanushree sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on her trembling hands. Behind her, a small suitcase lay half-zipped, packed with just a few clothes and all the gold jewelry she owned—nothing that had come from her in-laws or Abhimaan. She didn’t want to take anything from them, as if leaving behind their gifts might somehow free her from the weight of everything they had made her feel. 

She had told herself she would wait for Abhimaan to come home, confront him, demand answers, maybe scream out all the anger and betrayal she had buried inside. But now, sitting there in silence, the thought of seeing his face twisted her stomach. She hated him. How could he treat her this way? Every moment of cruelty rushed back to her like a flood—his coldness, how he used her body but gave her nothing in return, whispering his ex’s name in the dark while she lay beneath him.

And now it all made sense. The unanswered questions, the missing pieces—how he had left their reception abruptly, running off to be with *her*. Suddenly, she could also imagine how her husband had gotten those nail marks on his back. She let out a bitter chuckle.

The betrayal stung so deeply it took her breath away. She clutched her knees to her chest, sobbing until her throat burned, each hiccup jagged and painful. She had tried. She had tried so hard to love him, to make this marriage work. But what was left to hold on to?

Tanushree wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, only for more tears to spill over. She had reached her breaking point—shattered, exhausted, and done. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t keep pretending. She had nothing left inside her to give.

She glanced at the suitcase one last time. It was time to leave. For good.

Abhimaan’s heart raced as he moved through the penthouse, checking every room—bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, even the closets—only to find them all empty. Panic started to rise in his chest. Where could she be? He dialed the front desk. 

“Did my wife leave a few minutes ago?” he asked, his voice strained. 

“Yes, sir. She left about fifty minutes ago,” the receptionist confirmed. 

“Was she carrying anything?” 

“Yes, sir. A small suitcase.” 

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was leaving. She was really leaving. He slammed the phone down, grabbed his car keys from the counter, and bolted out the door. 

"She couldn't have gone far," he muttered to himself, racing to the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, he sprinted to his Bentley, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His hands shook as he started the engine. 

The thought of her being out there alone, heartbroken, and carrying their child gnawed at him. He had to find her before it was too late.

Tanushree sat on a cold bench near the bus station, clutching the small suitcase in her lap. Her heart felt heavy, and her eyes were swollen from crying. She knew she couldn’t go back to her parents' house—that would be the first place Abhimaan would search for her. No, she needed to disappear somewhere he wouldn’t think of. 

Her distant aunt’s house, a small place on the outskirts of the city, seemed like the only option. It wasn’t ideal, but it was far enough. She just needed space to breathe, to figure things out without anyone trying to pull her back. 

When the bus finally arrived, she wiped her tears and stood up, dragging the suitcase behind her. She boarded quietly, found an empty seat by the window, and sat down. 

As the bus rumbled to life, she rested her head against the cold glass, watching the city fade into the distance. With each passing building and streetlight, her heart ached a little less—just a little. For now, at least, she was free from it all.

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