Chapter 10

InkedImagination

@Queen0fDarkness

Chapter 10 - A confession

A month had passed since Geet became Geet Khurana. Outwardly, she was the picture of a loving wife, seamlessly integrating into the Khurana household. Inside, she was a silent storm, carefully dismantling the empire piece by piece.

Geet sat on the desk in their bedroom with her laptop open and her gaze focused as she tapped away rapidly at the keyboard. She had forged documents with precision over the last couple of weeks implicating Raj Khurana in fraudulent business practices, from fraudulent transactions to fake wire transfers, to siphoning company funds to offshore shell companies and even damning emails between Raj Khurana and a fabricated ‘investor’. The exchanges detailed of supposed plans to inflate the project budgets and pocketing the difference.

A separate window was open with a secure email platform. She’d drafted the email to send to the tax office, the police action fraud team and a couple of media houses. One click away from starting the Khurana’s downfall. She re-checked everything ensuring everything was secure and anonymous so nothing linked back to her, yet.

Before she could click send, the sound of the door opened. She swiftly minimised the tabs and opened up a spreadsheet and a data platform with a million codes which would be unreadable to the average person. She glanced over her shoulder with a small smile as Maan stepped inside.

He loosened his tie and a warm smile lit up on his face. “Ah, there you are” he said softly.

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day” he added further crossing the room.

“Long day at work?” She asked as tilted her head back as he placed his hands on her shoulder and leaned down.

“You have no idea” he responded. “But this…” brushed his lips against hers. “This is exactly what I needed to get rid of all my exhaustion”.

Geet smiled faintly and closed her eyes as he deepened the kiss for a moment and withdrew.

“You’re amazing, love” he stated, his eyes filled with love and so much trust. She almost felt an ache in her chest. “Anyway, would you like to get ready?”

“For?”

“I want to show you something” he answered.

“I thought you’re tired?” she questioned arching her brows.

“Not for this, come on” he urged. “I’ll just freshen up as well” he added heading to the bathroom.

Geet looked at her minimised tabs and glanced over her shoulder. It would have to wait now, so she hibernated her laptop and stood up to get ready. She perused her wardrobe for a moment before selecting a pair of jeans and a white blouse to wear for this surprise of Maan’s. She pondered silently about where he could be possibly taking her.

“Ready, Mrs Khurana?” Maan asked as he returned to their bedroom.

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?” she responded with a chuckle as she turned to face him.

“Not yet, you will see” he said with a soft chuckle and kissed her lips.

The drive to the location Maan was taking her was peaceful, they made occasional nonchalant conversations otherwise they both enjoyed the scenery. Geet stole glances now and then wondering where it was he was driving her since it was almost an hour away from his home.

Maan slowed the vehicle as he turned into a side street and continued until he got to the gates. Geet’s heart skipped a beat and her eyes fixated on the name by the side of the fence. Meera Foundation: Supporting Young Futures.

Geet remained utterly, Meera’s name. Her sister’s name. She quickly schooled her expression, masking her emotions as Maan stopped and climbed out to open her door.

“Come on, my love” he said, offering his hand. “I want to show you something”.

He led her to a booth near the starting line, where several volunteers were handing out brochures and signing up participants. Maan greeted each of them warmly, his charisma on full display. Geet skimmed through one of the brochures, her heart pounding as she read about the foundation’s mission to support young adults transitioning out of social care.

A young girl walked out with a clipboard in hand and stopped when she noticed Maan.

“Oh, Mr Khurana! How are you?”

“I’m good, Pinky and how many times do I tell you to call me Maan?” he answered with a playful smile and glanced at Geet. “Pinky, I’d like to meet Geet, my wife” he informed. “She’s going to volunteer with me today” he added surprising Geet. He volunteers? She thought silently.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs Khurana” Pinky said jovially. “You are so lucky to marry such a wonderful and kind-hearted man” she said, Geet noticed an almost dreamy look in her eyes.

“Thank you, it’s lovely to meet you too” Geet replied and glanced at Maan with a confused expression on her face.

“I’ll go get the vests” she informed and walked away.

“What is this place, Maan?” she inquired.

“Jaana, I will tell you soon. But first, we have to wear these to volunteer” he gestured as Pinky returned shortly with 2 fluorescent vests.

“We’ve got a line already formed” Pinky informed. “You’re both on the food line today as there is a lot to feed. Rahul and Amina are already there and doing their best. I will be with Kinjal and Kiran on the supply table handing out their packets”.

Maan nodded pulling the vest over his shirt with practised ease. Geet hesitated for a moment before slipping hers on, feeling the fabric settle over her shoulders like a second layer of responsibility. Pinky gestured towards the bustling food station, where a queue of young adults holding trays waited patiently.

Maan clasped Geet’s hand again, leading her to the table. The queue stretched far, with at least 40 to 50 people. At the table, Rahul and Amina moved quickly, their hands deftly serving tomato soup and bread slices for the starters before moving on to the main courses.

“This is the food station” Maan explained as he stepped behind the table, motioning for Geet to join him. “We’re serving a full meal today—starter, main course, sides, vegetables, and dessert”.

Geet nodded, taking in the organised chaos. She glanced down at the prepared dishes: steaming bowls of tomato soup with slices of bread, followed by 2 mains of vegan chilli with a grilled chicken breasts or pan-seared salmon. A side of roasted carrots, potatoes, and green beans accompanied the mains and the line ended with small bowls of custard and cake or fresh fruit.

“You take the sides and desserts” Maan said slipping seamlessly into the flow of activity as he began. “Chicken or salmon?” he asked.

Geet hesitated briefly but quickly stepped up, grabbing tongs to serve the vegetables and carefully portioning out desserts. As the queue moved forward, she found herself settling into a rhythm.

“Thank you, miss” A young man said as she handed him chosen desert of custard and cake. He was so young, maybe 18-19 years old and his eyes seemingly carried the weight of the world.

“You’re welcome” she responded softly with a small smile.

As the queue moved on, Geet stole a glance at Maan. He seemed completely at ease, chatting warmly with the people in the queue as he served them. There was no trace of the guarded, enigmatic man she had come to know. Here, he seemed… genuine.

“Mrs Khurana, is this your first time volunteering?” a voice asked, breaking her thoughts.

Geet turned to see Amina, one of the other volunteers, smiling at her. “Yes” she admitted. “I didn’t even know Maan volunteered”.

Amina laughed. “Oh, he’s here almost every week. He doesn’t talk about it much—just quietly does his part. It’s inspiring, really”.

Geet blinked, taken aback. Every week? Her thoughts churned as she processed this unexpected revelation. She had always seen Maan through the lens of her pain and anger, but this side of him unsettled that narrative, even if only slightly.

As the queue dwindled and the final trays were served, Geet felt a strange mix of emotions. Maan turned to her, his smile warm and genuine. “What did you think?” he asked.

“It was… different” she replied, her tone measured.

Maan pulled her aside to a quieter corner of the park after they had eaten with their own trays of food with the other volunteers. He gestured for her to sit with him on a bench under a large oak tree. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought.

“Maan?” Geet called out softly. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned to her, his expression soft yet tinged with something she couldn’t quite place—vulnerability. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something, Geet. Something I’ve never told anyone”.

Geet’s heart raced, but she kept her face calm, nodding encouragingly. “I’m listening”.

He exhaled deeply. “You know, sometimes I look at you, and I wonder what I did to deserve you. You’re brilliant, loving, and you’ve brought so much light into my life. I don’t know what I did in my last life to be so lucky”.

Geet felt her chest tighten, the irony of his words cutting deeper than he could ever imagine. She placed her hand on his, giving him a small smile. “You’re a good man, Maan. Maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit”.

Maan shook his head, his expression darkening. “I haven’t always been a good man, Geet. There’s something I’ve carried with me for a long time, something that’s haunted me”.

She said nothing, her pulse quickening as he continued. Almost as if she knew.

“When I was 18, there was… an accident” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “A girl… she died because of me”.

Geet’s breath caught, her fingers curling slightly against her palm.

“I wasn’t paying attention” Maan continued, his eyes distant. “My friends and I were out driving late at night. We were being reckless, speeding. And then… she was just there. I didn’t see her until it was too late”.

He paused, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his composure. “Her name was Meera. I found out later. She was… young, full of dreams. And I took all of that away in one moment of stupidity”.

Geet stared at him, her heart pounding violently. She kept her face neutral, but inside, a storm was raging.

“I wanted to confess” he said, his voice cracking. “I wanted to take responsibility, but my parents… they wouldn’t let me. They said a scandal like that would ruin everything—the company, our name, our future. They cleaned it up, paid people off, and told me to move on”.

Tears welled in his eyes, and he turned to look at her, his expression anguished. “But I couldn’t move on, Geet. Her face has haunted me every day since. That’s why I started this foundation. It’s not enough—it will never be enough—but I wanted to do something to honour her, to give back in some small way”.

Geet swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. Her own eyes stung, but she could not cry. She couldn’t collapse and cry out her pain. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the confirmation of everything she had known. And yet, hearing it from his lips, seeing the guilt etched into his face, stirred something she hadn’t expected conflict.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness” Maan said softly, his voice trembling. “But I want to be better, Geet. I want to make a difference, even if it’s too late for her”.

She reached out, placing her hand on his, her expression unreadable. “You’re trying, Maan” she said managing to remain calm despite the turmoil inside her. “That counts for something”.

Maan looked at her with gratitude, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. “Thank you” he whispered. “For listening, for understanding. I’ve never told anyone this before. Not even my parents know how much it still eats at me. They just presume I am doing this to pass my time or just needing to distract myself from the memories of my past. But… it was killing me inside”.

Geet nodded, her mask firmly in place. Inside, her resolve hardened. Maan’s guilt was real, but it didn’t absolve him of his crime. He might have built a foundation, but it was her sister’s life that had been taken. The justice Meera deserved was still out of reach.

Geet felt the weight of his confession pressing down on her as they jumped back into helping to set up the beds for tonight inside the building. The man beside her was haunted by his past, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to face the consequences - not just in his mind, but in the world.

That night while Maan slept soundly in bed, Geet logged into her laptop and reopened the minimised windows. Her fingers trembled for a moment and her resolve wavered for the first time in months, she glanced over her shoulder at the man who had killed her sister. The lines of tension eased on his face and his features softened in the dim light. He looked… human. Not the villain she built in her mind, not the arrogant heir she’d vowed to destroy. He was just a man in love, a man who had loved and trusted her. A man who was unaware of the storm she was about to unleash. Her eyes drifted to the mangalsutra around her neck, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. She had bound herself to this man, walked the sacred pheras with him, all for a lie. But in doing so, she had come to see a side of him she hadn’t expected—a side that made her question the black-and-white world she had constructed.

“I can’t afford to care” she murmured to herself. “It isn’t enough” she whispered and clicked ‘Send’.

The emails quickly disappeared into the digital world carrying the seeds of their ruin.

So it seems I could not finish it in one part. There are a couple more parts to this.