Chapter 90 Husbands in Trouble
As he points toward her, his tone sharp and mocking, Neeti’s eyes burn with both rage and unshed tears. But her pride doesn’t let those tears fall.
The very next moment, realization strikes Shorya. His own words echo in his head, bitter and cruel. His face pales, and his voice falters, “N… Neeti, I didn’t mean...”
But before he can finish, Neeti snaps. She grabs a glass from the table and hurls it straight at him.
The glass whistles through the air. Shorya ducks just in time, and it crashes against the wall, shattering into a hundred glittering pieces.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Shorya shouts in shock.
Neeti isn’t done. Fury burns in her veins. She grabs a flower pot and flings it at him with equal force. Shorya ducks again just in time as the pot smashes against the wall, scattering mud and flowers across the floor.
“Have you lost it completely?!” Shorya yells, his voice trembling now with both anger and disbelief. “You’re trying to kill your own husband? Will it make you happy to see yourself in white widow’s clothes?!”
Those words hit Neeti like fire. Her anger explodes. She strides straight up to him, her eyes blazing, and shoves him hard toward the door.
“Get out!” she screams. “Out of my room, right now!”
Shorya freezes, staring at her in disbelief. Is this really his Neeti throwing him out?
He opens his mouth to speak, but Neeti raises her finger at him, her voice cutting sharper than any blade.
“Did you hear me? Get out! This is my room. You have no right here anymore!”
And with that, she slams the door on his face. Shorya stands there for a moment, stunned, staring at the closed door. Guilt pricks at his heart, but so does anger—and somewhere, deep inside, a helpless ache. Finally, he exhales heavily, closes his eyes for a moment, and walks away silently.
He heads straight to the garden. The night air outside is cool and calm, such a stark contrast to the storm still raging inside him.
On a bench in the garden, Samar, Rohit, and Karan are already sitting together. Rohit has practically dragged Karan out with him, hoping to distract him from his pain. The three sit quietly, each lost in his own world of troubles.
Shorya joins them, sitting right beside Samar. His face softens, his anger replaced with an almost childlike innocence, as if he is trying to hide his hurt.
Karan, who forces a faint smile onto his own face, turns toward Shorya. With a trace of irony in his voice, he says, “So… you too? Someone kicked you out of the room?”
Shorya lowers his head. For a moment he doesn’t speak, and then he gives the smallest of nods.
Vihan stands in the room holding a plate of food. He has prepared it especially for Rimjhim. The room is silent so silent that only the faint ticking of the clock can be heard. Rimjhim stands near the window, completely still. She neither looks at Vihan nor at the food. Her eyes remain fixed outside, into the darkness of the night, as if only the night understands the pain she carries.
Vihan slowly walks forward and places the plate on the side table. In a calm but concerned voice, he says, “Rimjhim… please have dinner. Not eating won’t change anything. How long will you keep breaking yourself over Riya’s grief?”
Rimjhim finally turns her eyes toward him. They are filled with sorrow, yet also with a spark of anger. In a low but firm voice, she replies, “No… I don’t want to eat.”
Vihan pauses, studying her face. Then he tries to lighten the moment with a faint smile and says, “Come on, eat something, Rimjhim… otherwise, you’ll grow thin.”
The words change her expression instantly. Her brows furrow, and she snaps, “What do you mean? Grow thin?!”
Vihan’s confidence falters. His voice trembles slightly as he stammers, “I… I mean if you don’t eat now, you’ll lose more weight.”
But Rimjhim’s eyes now blaze like lightning. She takes a step toward him, her voice sharp and fiery, “So you’re saying… that I’m fat?”
Vihan swallows hard, fear flickering across his face. He instinctively steps back. His face pales as if all courage drains out of him.
Rimjhim’s voice rises again, demanding, “Say it! You think I’m fat, don’t you?”
Vihan shakes his head rapidly and answers in desperation, “No! Not at all! That’s not what I meant, Rimjhim. You’re misunderstanding me.”
But her anger consumes her. Her cheeks flush red, her breathing quickens. Vihan, trying to calm her, whispers, “Rimjhim…”
Before he can finish, Rimjhim cuts him off with a furious cry, “Enough! Get out. Right now!”
Vihan stares at her in disbelief, as if he can’t trust his own ears. With a nervous little smile, he tries to reason, “You’re throwing me out of my own room? This is my room!”
Rimjhim steps closer, her voice stern and cold, “Fine then. I’ll leave instead.”
She turns to walk away, but Vihan panics. Quickly, he says, “Alright… don’t leave. I’ll go.”
Rimjhim freezes for a moment, her breaths still heavy, but she says nothing. Without another word, Vihan quietly opens the door and walks out.
He steps into the garden, where the night air is cool. The pale light of the moon covers everything in a soft glow. On a bench sit Samar, Shorya, and Rohit. Karan had been with them earlier, but Rohit has forced him back inside.
Vihan silently joins them, sitting down beside Shorya. His face looks weary, his eyes carry a trace of sorrow and restlessness.
Rohit glances at him, unable to hide his grin. “So… Rimjhim threw you out too?” he asks, almost laughing.
Vihan doesn’t answer. He just lowers his head and sits quietly, not a single word leaving his lips.
Samar and Shorya exchange glances after seeing his expression. Rohit, unable to hold himself, begins laughing out loud.
But the three of them Samar, Shorya, and Vihan turn to glare at him together. Rohit’s laughter stops abruptly, stuck in his throat. He quickly lowers his head and falls silent.
Samar is the first to break the silence. His voice is filled with irritation and anger. “Man, I just don’t understand these women! Always with their tantrums. I say one thing in a slightly angry tone, and Madam immediately gets upset and sulks. Just like that!”
TO BE COUNTINUE...!!!