The Charade

55|𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖕

KASHI'S POV

"Kashi, beta, where are you?" I heard Papa's voice echoing through the house as I inhaled a sharp breath while gazing at myself in the mirror. The vibrant pink silk saree looked stunning on me. My hair was tied in a bun with the gajra resting like a protective barrier. The golden earings, my nuptial chain, and the bright red vermillion made my look complete. I swiftly grabbed the small bindi before darting downstairs, ensuring I didn't forget my phone.

"I'm here," I declared, scanning the faces already gathered in the living room. My gaze swept over each one of them.

Mummy looked beautiful in her violet Kanchivaram saree. Papa matched her attire with a violet kurta and gold half coat. My eyes then landed on my baby bull.

He looked damn cute in that golden kurta, paired with a white dhoti. And on top of everything, his Nani had made him like a sane little man. He was not glaring at anything, but just kept gritting his teeth every now and then.

"Let's go." I walked to Reyaan, and Mummy took him in her arms. He quietly looked at everything around us.

We settled in the car. Reyaan was with me while Mummy and Papa came in the other car with the driver.

We were going to the temple today. Mummy Papa wanted to do this Pooja for Reyaan, they all are spiritual and devotional after all. Papa sent Mr. Agnihotri a message to come and attend the pooja, but he had work, so he couldn't make it. I was not disappointed because, at this point, it was a daily thing for me.

A month.

He had ghosted me for an entire month.

This is what life feels like when your own husband abandons you. It feels hollow, like an empty shell of existence. And slowly, it drives you mad.

Thirty days of silence. Thirty days of waking up to the cold side of the bed, of staring at my phone like it owed me answers. Of hoping—pathetically, desperately—that he'd show up. But he didn't come.

I kept replaying those moments in my head—every unanswered message, every call that went straight to voicemail, every night I spent curled up with Reyaan on my chest, whispering to him that his father loves him so much. He's busy, he'll come back, I'd told myself like a fool.

But he didnt.

The car ride was quiet, except for Reyaan's occasional babbles as he played with my bangles. I smiled faintly, running my fingers through his soft hair. At least he was here—my reason to keep going. Without him, I would have surely done something that Mr Agnihotri would have regretted.

When we reached the temple, the air smelled of incense and marigolds. Devotees bustled about, their murmurs and chants blending into a constant hum. Mummy took Reyaan from me and handed him to Papa, who looked delighted to hold his grandson. I lingered for a moment, watching them. They looked happy with Reyaan. At Least someone is happy.

I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the familiar burn in my eyes. I refused to let the tears fall here. Not in front of Mummy and Papa, not in front of God. I had already spent so many nights crying into a pillow, stifling my sobs so Reyaan wouldn't wake up.

Karma is a bitch. For sure.

"Beta, are you coming?" Mummy's voice snapped me back to the present. She was smiling softly, oblivious to the storm raging inside me.

"Yes, Mummy," I said quickly, forcing my lips into something that resembled a smile.

I stepped into the temple, my bare feet pressing against the cool marble.