Nitya

I walk briskly through the cold, narrow streets, clutching the bag with Prathamji's lunch in my hand.

My breath forms small clouds in the frosty air, mingling with the mist that hangs low over the pavement.

Each step brings me closer to Prathamji's factory, but the uncertainty weighs heavily on my heart.

Would he welcome my presence, or would my unexpected arrival be met with the same cold indifference that had marked our recent interactions?

I rearrange the shawl over my shoulder, tightening it around my body as it shudders not only due to the chilly weather but also due to the thought of my husband's cold behavior.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself against the nerves that threaten to overwhelm me.

As I approach his factory, a tall structure of brick and steel, my pace slows, the restlessness gnawing at my heart.

What if he didn't like me coming here? What if my presence only irritated him further?

You are overthinking, Nitya. He won't get angry with you just for bringing him his lunch.

Reassuring myself, I step inside. The warmth of the inside was a sharp contrast to the frigid air outside, but it did little to calm my racing heart.

I approach the few men working at the front, who give me polite smiles, knowing I am Prathamji's wife.

"Where is Prathamji?" I ask them.

"He is in his office, Ma'am. Go straight from here and turn to the first right," one of them replies.

Thanking them, I head towards Prathamji's office, my heart pounding with nervousness with each step that I take.

Finally reaching his office, I hesitate between knocking or opening the door, and settle on knocking.

Three timid knocks later, when he does not open the door, I reticently turn the knob and open it.

I see him leaning on the chair behind a huge table in front of him. His hands on his forehead and eyes closed.

"Prathamji," I call softly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nerves that churn within me.

He opens his eyes, seeming surprised by my voice. His frown deepens when he gazes at me, his jaw tightening.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his tone clipped.

"Umm, since Anilji did not come today to get your lunch, I brought it for you," I reply, forcing a smile.

He glances at his watch, his jaw tightening. "I ordered food from a nearby restaurant and have already eaten. I am no longer hungry."

The words sting, but I press on.

"Won't you eat even a bit? You did not eat bottle gourd curry I made for you a few days back, so I have made it again today. You like it, right?"

He sighs, a sound that carries the weight of his irritation. "I no longer like bottle gourd, Nitya. Maa does not know it, that's why she told you about it being my favorite dish. You do not need to keep making it for me."

My heart aches at his cold voice, and I feel a lump form in my throat.

"Can we talk for a while, Prathamji? I have been trying to talk with you for the last few days, but you never have time for me."

Standing from the chair, he steps towards me. "Is it necessary to discuss this here?" He runs a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "This is my work place," he says tersely.

I bite my lip, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"You don't talk with me in the house too. You always seem so distant. The day when I had fever, that was the only day you properly talked with me. Otherwise, you alway—"

"Stop it, Nitya." His eyes flash with annoyance, and he looks behind to ensure that the door is closed. "I do not know what you want to tell me. But this is not the place for such talk. Leave from here now."

I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure. My resolve hardens. I cannot keep on tolerating this distance and silence between us anymore.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I say, "Tell me then. Where can we talk? You are saying this is not the place to discuss such thing and you also do not talk with me at the house, so tell me, Prathamji, where do I need to come to talk with you?"

Prathamji's eyes flashes with anger. It scares me, but I will myself not to cower.

"Go from here, Nitya," he snaps.

My heart pounds against my chest, but I refuse to back down.

"Please listen to me just once. I need your answers to some questions that have been weighing in my mind."

I feel a mixture of fear and desperation. I needed to make him understand how much his indifference was hurting me. How lonely I feel in his house, in our room, even when he is there with me.

"Just once, Prathamji," I say, my voice breaking. "I need to know where our marriage and I stand in your life."

He leans against the table, folding his hands over his chest. His face hardening in such a way that makes me realize he is barely controlling his anger.

"You want to know what I think of our marriage?"

His voice is calm, but I flinch at his tone. Still, I continue. He is finally talking. Reluctantly and with barely controlled rage yes, but he is talking.

"I want to know why you remain so distant with me."

He laughs, a harsh, bitter sound.

"After making a mockery of my life, you are asking me why I remain distant with you?"

His words hit me like a slap in the face. I take a step back, my breath hitching.

"What are you saying? I have done no such thing."

He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Even though I did not want to, I had to get married to you because of your brother. I became stuck in a relationship which I never wanted in the first place. Do you even know what was happening in my life when I found out about Naman bhaiyya saying yes for our marriage? Until now, I have angst from that pain lingering in my heart."

Tears well up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "You didn't want to get married to me? Then why did you say yes?"

"I had to say yes." He stands up from the table and steps closer to me with his eyes blazing with anger. "No one in the house knows about this because Naman bhaiyya did not want you to get in trouble with our family due to this. He still considers your brother as his friend and you as his sister. That is why he also told me not to share this with anyone else."

"What is it?" I ask, wanting to know.

"Your brother had given a big order to our factory and we spared no expense to cover it. Since Yash is Naman bhaiyya's friend, he did not think much about signing the official contract for the order and thought he would complete all the formal obligations after the order is completed and delivered.

"When Yash proposed for our alliance, Bhaiyya immediately said yes to it, but when he talked about it with me, I refused for the marriage. I did not want to get married. But when Bhaiyya told this to Yash, he blatantly said if this marriage won't take place, he won't be taking the delivery of the order we prepared for him and won't pay us for it too. Not only that, he also said that he will spread the rumor about our company not completing the orders properly in the given time.

"If he had done it, our factory not only would have suffered a huge loss, but our reputation would have been damaged too. Naman Bhaiyya was stuck, unable to figure out how to handle this mess. And when he pleaded with me in desperation, I could not say no to him.

"This factory is in name of our late father. Neither he nor I wanted this factory to have any kind of bad reputation. That is why, I had to say yes, even though I did not want to get married to you."

I feel rooted to my spot. My vision blur with tears I could no longer hold back. The walls around me seem to close in, pressing in on me as I process Prathamji's words.

Every word he had said replays in my mind. "You didn't want to get married to me? You had to say yes?" My voice is merely a whisper, the pain in my heart nearly unbearable.

For a moment, silence hangs between us, heavy and suffocating. He looks away, his jaw clenched.

"Mujhe pata hai iss mein tumhari galti nahi hai. Main tumhare bhai se naraz hoon, tumse nahi. Abhi halat aise hain ki main khud apne kashmakash mein hoon, akela rehna pasand karta hoon."

( "I know none of this is your fault. I am angry with your brother, not with you. The situation now is such that I am struggling with my emotions. That's why I prefer to be alone." )

I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, but failing miserably. I do not know what suddenly came over me, everything that has been happening since our marriage, the loneliness, the pain, the taunts from Maaji and Chachiji, the ache in my heart, everything mixes, making me overwhelmed by it.

"If you did not want to get married to me, you must have remained firm in your decision. Why did you say yes? Why did you bring me to your house where there is nothing except for the loneliness and the taunts?" I ask him, but continue without waiting for his reply. "I agree that Bhaiyya must not have pressurized you and Namanji, but you two could have handled it in your own way too. Why did you think it to be ok to marry me without wanting to just because you wanted to save this factory's reputation? Why?"

Prathamji's face twist with anger, his voice rising. "Do you think we did not think about it? We have enough money to survive through the loss even if your brother had cancelled the order. After all, we have many factories, some in the village and some in city. But this factory was our father's dream. He had built it all by himself with his hard-earned money. This factory has his memories. This factory is priceless, not only for Bhaiyya and me, but also for our mother. We could not let anything happen to it."

I feel my anger rising, fueled by his reasoning. "And what about me? You married me, but you neither talk properly with me, nor you touch....," I pause, unable to utter about the lack of intimacy in our marriage. "Didn't you think even once tha—"

"I didn't think!" He shouts. "When your brother forced me for this marriage, not thinking how your life will be after getting into this unwanted marriage, why would I think about you?"

"Bhaiyya did what he had to," I shoot back. "He had his reason."

His eyes narrow as he steps closer to me.

"What do you think, Nitya? What your brother did, was it right or wrong?"

The coldness in his tone sends a shiver down my spine.

"He had his reason. He was he—"

"Whatever the reason was," Prathamji interrupts. "Just tell me. According to you, whatever Yash did was right or wrong?"

I hesitate, not knowing what reply to give. I know why Bhaiyya did it. Babuji's ultimatum was the reason. He would not have been able to tolerate it if something had happened to our father due to him. Also, he must have thought I would be happy after marrying Prathamji.

Sudden clutch over my arm interrupts my thoughts and I look into Prathamji's blazing eyes. A low hiss escapes my lips when he tightens his hold on me.

"I did not know you too are like your brother," he says through gritted teeth. "You are blaming me for what he did?"

My eyes widen at the accusation. "I did no-"

I abruptly stop when he digs his fingers into my arms, pulling me to him.

"If you think our marriage by force was ok, then so be it," he says, shocking me. "What were you saying? That I do not touch you?"

He leans closer to me, his breath mingling with mine, fanning my face. His fingers are still tightly gripping my arms.

"W-what are y-you d-doing?" I stutter, feeling my heart thudding in fear.

"You wanted this, right?" He says, his nose skimming over my cheek, his lips getting closer to mine.

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling pain wash through me. I did want to talk with him about the lack of closeness between us, but I did not want it like this. With his anger towards me so palpable that I feel it freezing my insides.

His lips brush against mine, making my breath hitch.

"Aaj ke baad main apne pati hone ka saara haq jataunga aur tum meri patni hone ka sara farz nibhaogi."

( "Starting today, I will claim my rights on you as your husband and you will fulfill all your duties of being my wife." )

He abruptly leaves me, but steadies me when I lose my balance, not letting me fall.

"That door." He points at the door in the right corner of the office. "That door also leads the way out of the factory. Go out through that door and be ready for tonight."

"Re-ready for what?"

"As your husband, I want to claim my first right on you," he says. "Tonight, we will do everything that a newly married couple is supposed to do in their wedding night."

I feel my stomach twist into knots. His anger is still palpable, looming over me, making me feel small and vulnerable. I am not prepared for the wedding night. Not like this. Not with him raging this way, terrifying me.

"Prathamji, please lis—"

"Leave, Nitya," he tells me. "And if you don't want to go, we can have our wedding night right he—"

"I... I am leaving," I say, my voice barely audible.

He opens the door and I step out, flinching when the door closes behind me with a bang.

The cold air outside feels like a physical blow, the chill seeping into my bones. I walk away from the factory, my vision blurred by tears.

If Prathamji's indifference earlier was like a knife to my heart, his anger felt like that knife twisting repeatedly against my chest, making me burn in the pain from it.

What will happen tonight after he returns home? Will he really—

I press a hand to my mouth to stifle a sob. The tears flow freely now, hot and unrelenting. Few people, passing by, give me curious glances but I barely notice them. My world had shrunk to the fear inside my chest, the fear that seemed to expand with every passing second.