Chapter 8

7 months ago

Anushkaa

@nushhkiee

Chapter 8 -

It had been three days since Geet left Maan’s office, since she walked away from the broken shards of whatever had once been between them. And in those three days, the house had fallen into a thick, suffocating silence.

Geet tried to focus on the things that used to ground her -- the tasks, the routines ... but nothing felt right anymore. Her mind kept returning to him, to the way his voice had sounded that night, how his eyes had turned to ice the moment she dared to confront him. He hadn’t chased her. He hadn’t even asked where she’d gone. He’d let her walk out without a single attempt to hold her back, and that hurt more than the words he’d spat at her.

He didn’t care. He never cared.

But she couldn’t bring herself to leave....not just yet. Not while there was still a shred of something inside her that hoped he would come to his senses. That something in him would break. That he might see her again, truly see her, and realize that she wasn’t just a body to be used and discarded, that she was capable of love too.

The more she thought about him, though, the more she realized the truth that she had been so desperately trying to deny. Maan didn’t want her. He didn’t need her. He didn’t even care enough to make her stay.

It was on the fourth evening since their confrontation that Geet heard the sound of the car pull up outside. Her gaze instinctively flicked to the window, her heart sinking into her stomach. She knew what was happening before it even occurred to her to turn her head.

Maan was back.

But it wasn’t Maan alone.

There, hanging off his arm, was the woman from the charity event...a model with long, sleek black hair, wearing a dress that screamed ‘expensive’. She was laughing, her hands brushing against Maan’s chest as he led her into the house with the same confident stride he always had, as though nothing in his life had changed. As though Geet wasn’t here, waiting, hoping.

Geet’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. The jealousy was a slow, ugly burn that spread through her veins like poison, but she forced herself to swallow it down. What did she have to be jealous of? Maan had never been hers to begin with. She had known that, even when they shared their fleeting moments of intimacy.

But something about the way he walked into the house, indifferent to her presence, with that woman on his arm...it felt like the last shred of dignity she had was being stripped away.

The woman’s laughter echoed through the hallway as Geet stood frozen in the living room. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, the knuckles white from the force of it.

She was done pretending she didn’t care.

She was done trying to justify his distance.

When Geet finally found him, he was sitting in the study, his back turned, speaking quietly to the woman on the phone. His face was calm, as always, like a mask of indifference. He didn’t look up when she entered, didn’t acknowledge her at all. It wasn’t until she slammed the door behind her with a sharp thud that he turned, the brief flicker of irritation in his eyes quickly replaced by the usual coldness.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, as if waiting for her to speak first.

Geet’s breath came in short, ragged bursts. “So, you’ve replaced me,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. It was the only thing she could control...her words.

Maan’s jaw tightened, and he set his phone down on the desk slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone flat, almost bored.

Geet laughed, but it was a bitter sound, one that held no humor. “Oh, really? You’re not going to play this game with me, Maan. I saw you with her.” She stepped closer to him, her hands shaking, but she clenched them into fists, refusing to let him see the depth of her vulnerability. “Is she the new toy? Because, let’s face it, you don’t know how to have a real relationship. You’re too busy parading women around like prizes to even notice that I’m standing right here. Begging for your attention.”

Maan’s expression didn’t change, but there was a glimmer of something...maybe anger, maybe annoyance...that flickered in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, controlled, but there was an underlying tension that vibrated through the words. “I told you before, Geet. I don’t need love. I never needed it, and I sure as hell don’t need you to be looking at me like I owe you something.”

Geet felt the sting of those words like a slap. But she didn’t back down. “You don’t owe me anything, Maan. You’re right about that. You don’t owe me a thing. But I sure as hell deserve something more than this empty, broken version of you.”

Her chest was tight, and she could feel the tears threatening to spill, but she refused to let them fall. No. She would not cry for him. Not anymore.

“You think I’m just going to stay here and watch you destroy me bit by bit?” she asked, her voice shaking. “You think you can keep treating me like a stranger in this house? Like nothing matters? I won’t let you do this anymore, Maan.”

Maan stood up from his desk, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He walked toward her, his movements deliberate, but his face was as cold as ever. “What do you want from me, Geet? What the hell do you expect? You want me to tell you that I love you? To give you some fairy tale where everything magically falls into place?” He scoffed, the bitterness in his laugh making Geet’s blood run cold. “I can’t give you that. I don’t love anyone. I don’t need anyone. I didn’t ask you to be here. You think I need you? No. You’re just a complication I don’t need.”

His words pierced through her, cutting deeper than any physical blow. Geet recoiled, but she didn’t run. She was done running.

She had never wanted pity from him. She had only wanted truth.

And this was the truth.

The cold, ugly truth.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke again. “Then why the hell did you even bring me here in the first place, Maan? Why did you make me believe that I mattered? That I was anything more than another one of your distractions? Was I just something to fill the empty space while you waited for the next pretty face to walk through that door? And why the fu*k you don't let me go then?”

Maan didn’t answer, but his eyes said everything. They were cold. Unfeeling. And in that moment, Geet realized something else.

He didn’t care. Not at all.

Her chest tightened as she took a step back, her breath shallow.

“You were right,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m nothing to you.”

And with that, she turned and left, each step dragging her further into the abyss that Maan had created.