Chapter 4: The Morning After

Sunlight streamed through the intricate jali windows, casting patterned shadows on the marble floor. Meera sat by the dressing table, her reflection a picture of exhaustion. Her eyes were puffy from a sleepless night, her mind spinning in endless circles of fear and regret. The soft chime of anklets in the hallway reminded her where she was—this wasn't her home, and these weren't her people. She was an imposter in every sense of the word.

The door creaked open, startling her. She turned quickly, her nerves on edge, but it was only Priya, one of the house staff. Priya was holding a silver tray with tea and a plate of biscuits. Her warm smile contrasted with the tension bubbling inside Meera.

"Good morning, bhabhi-ji," Priya said cheerfully, setting the tray down on the small table near the bed.

The word bhabhi felt like a dagger to Meera's chest. It was a title she hadn't earned and didn't deserve. She forced a small smile, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Priya hesitated, sensing Meera's unease, but didn't press further. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said before leaving the room.

As the door closed behind her, Meera let out a shaky breath. She wasn't ready to face anyone, least of all Arjun. The conversation from last night played in her mind like a broken record. His words, his piercing gaze—they left no room for denial.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. This time, it wasn't Priya. It was Arjun.

Meera froze. He stepped inside, his presence commanding as always, but there was a surprising calmness to his demeanor. Gone was the intensity of the night before. He carried a small tray with two cups of chai and a plate of toast.

"I figured you might not have eaten," he said, setting the tray on the table. His voice was steady, almost gentle.

Meera looked at him, unsure of how to respond. Was this his way of extending an olive branch, or was he simply trying to keep up appearances?

"You didn't have to," she said quietly, her hands clasped tightly together.

Arjun shrugged, pulling a chair out and sitting across from her. "Consider it my way of making sure you don't faint before we figure this mess out," he said with a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed his seriousness.

The small attempt at humor caught her off guard. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, if only slightly. She reached for the cup of chai, the warmth of the ceramic grounding her.

"I didn't sleep much," she admitted after a long silence, her eyes focused on the tea.

"I didn't expect you to," Arjun said simply. "I didn't either."

Meera looked up at him, surprised. There was something about the way he said it, as if he wasn't blaming her for the chaos but instead acknowledging the weight of it all.

"Arjun," she began hesitantly, "I don't know how to fix this. I don't even know if it can be fixed."

Arjun leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "I've been thinking about that too," he said. "And honestly, I don't have all the answers. But I do know one thing—we can't keep living this lie. Not for our families, and definitely not for ourselves."

His words hung in the air, heavy with truth. Meera felt her throat tighten, but she nodded. "I don't want to keep lying either," she said softly. "But... I don't know what that means for us."

Arjun studied her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "It means we take this one step at a time," he said. "For now, we don't need to make any big decisions. But we do need to be honest with each other, no matter how hard it gets."

Meera's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. There was something unexpectedly comforting in his words, in the idea that they didn't have to have everything figured out right away.

"Okay," she said, her voice steadying. "One step at a time."

Arjun nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Good," he said. "Because step one is facing the family."

Her stomach dropped. She hadn't even considered the rest of the household—the questions, the scrutiny, the expectations.

"They'll expect us at breakfast," Arjun continued. "We'll keep things simple for now. We don't owe anyone an explanation yet."

Meera swallowed hard, her mind racing. The idea of sitting at a table full of strangers, pretending everything was normal, felt impossible. But she knew she didn't have a choice.

"I'll be ready," she said, her voice firmer than she felt.

Arjun stood, adjusting the cuff of his shirt. "Take your time," he said. "But remember, you're not alone in this, Meera. We'll figure it out together."

His words lingered even after he left the room. For the first time since the wedding, Meera felt a glimmer of hope—not because the situation was any less complicated, but because she wasn't facing it entirely on her own.

She turned back to the mirror, staring at her reflection. The girl who stared back at her looked uncertain, even scared, but there was something else too. Determination.

Meera adjusted the dupatta on her shoulder and took a deep breath. If she was going to survive this, she would have to find strength within herself—strength she wasn't sure she had.

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