Kumkum: Ties of Love and Lies (COMPLETED)

Chapter 12

The Rajasekhar estate was bustling with activity every day, but for Sandhya, it felt like a prison. Despite the grandeur, the warmth of her new in-laws, and Yamuna's constant chatter, she couldn't shake the weight of her true purpose: uncovering the truth behind Shravani's death.

She had mastered the art of pretending. Around Pugazh's family, she wore a mask of affection and grace, laughing at his jokes and playing the part of a loving wife. Latha adored her, constantly praising her for blending so seamlessly into their family. Ezhil and Rekha were polite but distant, while Yamuna, ever bubbly, had become her closest companion.

But when it came to Pugazh, Sandhya's demeanor was ice-cold.

At the hospital, Sandhya buried herself in work. Her interactions with Pugazh were strictly professional, her words curt and to the point. Every time he tried to engage her in conversation or offer his help, she brushed him off, claiming she was too busy.

Pugazh, once full of confidence and charm, now seemed lost. He had noticed her change almost immediately after the wedding. The woman who had once promised to share her life with him now barely acknowledged his presence.

One afternoon, as they crossed paths in the corridor, Pugazh stopped her.

"Sandhya, we need to talk," he said, his voice firm.

"I'm busy," she replied without looking at him.

"You're always busy," he said, his frustration evident. "What's going on with you? Why are you avoiding me?"

She sighed, finally meeting his eyes. "I'm not avoiding you. I just... lost interest."

The words hit him like a blow. He stared at her, stunned. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I don't feel the same anymore," she said, her tone flat. "Maybe I made a mistake."

Pugazh's jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice low and strained.

"Yes," she said, her gaze unwavering.

His chest ached, and anger bubbled to the surface. "You're lying," he said sharply. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I know you don't mean it."

Sandhya's resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Believe what you want, Pugazh. I don't care anymore."

His anger boiled over. "Fine," he snapped. "If that's how you feel, then say the word, Sandhya. I'll give you a divorce if that's really what you want."

The air between them crackled with tension as they stared at each other. But instead of answering, Sandhya turned and walked away, her heart pounding.

At home, Pugazh struggled to hide his turmoil. His family remained oblivious to the cracks in their relationship, thanks to Sandhya's flawless act. Around them, she smiled and laughed, playing the part of a doting wife. But the moment they were alone, she withdrew completely, leaving Pugazh feeling more isolated than ever.

Yamuna, who spent most of her time with Sandhya, had begun to notice her indifference toward Pugazh.

"Anni, why are you always so formal with Pugazh anna?" Yamuna asked one evening as they sat in the garden.

Sandhya smiled faintly. "I'm just busy with work, Yamuna. That's all."

"Busy or not, he's your husband," Yamuna teased. "You should spend more time with him. Poor guy looks like a lost puppy lately."

Sandhya laughed weakly, deflecting the conversation.

Pugazh's jealousy reached its peak when he saw Sandhya interacting with one of her colleagues, Dr. Arjun. Arjun was charming and outgoing, always quick with a joke or a compliment. Sandhya seemed at ease around him, her smiles coming easily—something Pugazh hadn't seen directed at him in weeks.

One evening, as they left the hospital together, Pugazh spotted Arjun walking Sandhya to her car. The sight made his blood boil.

When Sandhya arrived home, Pugazh was waiting for her, his expression dark.

"Had a nice chat with Dr. Arjun?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Sandhya frowned, setting down her bag. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You seem pretty comfortable around him," Pugazh said, stepping closer. "Laughing, smiling—things you don't do with me anymore."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sandhya said, brushing past him.

"Ridiculous?" Pugazh repeated, his voice rising. "You shut me out completely, but you have time to laugh with another man? How am I supposed to feel about that?"

Sandhya turned to face him, her own anger flaring. "How you feel isn't my problem, Pugazh. Maybe if you stopped suffocating me, I wouldn't have to look elsewhere for normal conversations."

His face hardened at her words, the hurt visible in his eyes. "If I'm suffocating you, then why stay? Why not leave?"

Sandhya's heart ached at his pain, but she couldn't let herself falter. "Maybe I will," she said coldly.

Pugazh stared at her for a moment before turning away, his shoulders tense. "Do whatever makes you happy, Sandhya," he said quietly before walking out of the room.

That night, as Sandhya sat alone in their room, guilt gnawed at her. She hated how much she was hurting him, but she reminded herself of her mission. If Pugazh was connected to Shravani's death, she couldn't let her emotions cloud her judgment.

But the way he looked at her—the raw vulnerability in his eyes—left her questioning everything.

Am I doing the right thing? she wondered.

Pugazh, meanwhile, sat in his study, nursing a drink as he replayed their argument in his head. His love for Sandhya hadn't wavered, but he couldn't ignore the growing distance between them.

What happened to us? he thought, his heart heavy.