The Unwanted Bride

32 - I Know Your Location

Typed on 02/02/2025
Chapter 32: I Know Your Location

NOTE: If you're a loyal reader, you'd know I like to write realistic stories and avoid tv like drama as much as I can. Some readers may not like the 'pace' of the story which is understandable. I just want to highlight that I'm purposely writing the way I am because I know someone would have went through something like this, whether with a partner, or an obsessive and controlling parent, friend and etc. It would insensitive and disrespectful to 'pretend Khushi is totally fine and Samar just dies in a car crash, so yaya, happy ending.'

That won't happen. Life isn't a movie. This isn't a dharma movie. Khushi and Yug navigating this problem would be written in a realistic manner. Because that's how life is—real.

Happy reading!

"What's wrong?" His sister-in-law asked as Harsh turned his head around for the third time. She followed his eyes, wondering if they had forgotten to buy something. "Did we miss a store?"

Harsh shrugs his shoulders, as if telling himself he's being paranoid. "No, nothing, I just–there was this guy," he blew some air and just clicked his tongue.

Khushi tried not to think about it too much–too deeply, trying to disassociate herself from analysing the situation. I already do enough analysing for a living. "I mean, there are plenty of guys around," she joked.

To her surprise, Harsh cracked a smile. She's not wrong. They're outside on their usual grocery shopping routine, buying fresh vegetables from food stalls. "I sometimes forget how overpopulated India is until I go grocery shopping." He always seemed overwhelmed to her whenever they went shopping.

"You should stand outside the Court House sometimes, it's wild." She heard a mimicking 'oh yeah?' And laughed. Harsh was a kind, reserved but respectful brother-in-law. One that she could count on to understand her and help her out whether they exchanged enough words or not. Of course, they spoke, and they lived in the same house but their relationship was one of those two friends who could get busy in life, forget to text or call you or even see you, but nothing would ever become uncomfortable. They could pick up where they left off.

"I won't be able to pick you up tomorrow," he muttered, walking in front of her, gently making way for her through the crowd. Khushi fell into step behind him, eyebrows raised. He didn't have to turn around to know she required more information. "I have a lot of work and potentially a meeting. I could book you a cab home or ask Bhai to?"

Khushi thought for a second. She couldn't walk home like she used to with Neha. Her parent's home was close by but her husband's? No. "Actually, don't bother," now his head turned. "I might go to my parent's home for a bit and visit them briefly. Papa mentioned he made fresh mint chutney–he brought that mint specially from our village. I want to bring some home, I think you'd both like it."

It had been around six to eight months since Khushi had last seen her family. During that time, her family made the effort to visit Yug, but despite his outward respect and cordiality, it was clear he didn't hold any warmth for them. Every time they came over, Yug made sure his feelings were known, whether through a subtle remark or a cold gesture. 

One afternoon, as her parents and sister, Isha, gathered in their living room, Yug, with a forced smile, casually remarked, "I appreciate you all taking the time to visit, but let's be clear—I don't think any of us need to pretend there's much fondness between us. I'm not here to play the role of the gracious host to people who've treated my wife like that."