13
BACK HOME AFTER A LONG DAY

May

The night before,

"Then don't forget," her voice was barely a whisper, her sentence almost cut short by Abhishek wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer into a kiss. Holding onto each other like they never let go.

The next moments were hazy, like a blurry polaroid. Their hands all over each other, whispering sweet nothings as they feverishly kissed. Breaking down all the walls they had built knowingly and unknowingly. Dancing along to the tunes of love, after wandering off to the haunted castle built by mistakes, egos, insecurities.

It was a montage of moments only a reunited, happy couple could indulge in. The two were lying beside each other, their breathing still rapid, hearts racing. While Aastha felt sleepless, the exhaustion of the past few hours was catching up Abhishek as he lazily put his arm around his wife. His heart felt happy, yet something kept on gnawing at him. He knew he shouldn't open his mouth and let the night end on a sweet note.

But his mind didn't comply with his heart.

"Aastha...if you could go back in time..." he started.

"Mhmm?" She hummed, his feathery touch still making her feel giddy.

"If you knew how everything turned out...would you still sing the karaoke with me? Would you sing Bade Acche—" he paused, yawning. "Lagte hai with me?"

She didn't reply. He continued.

"Do you regret it...?" Were his words before sleep caught up to the cricketer, world going black.

"Yes," Aastha said, tears slipping out of her eyes as she removed Abhishek's hand from her. "I regret everything Abhishek," she mumbled, seeing how he had already dozed off.

"I regret the way we handled everything. We were supposed to be forever," her voice cracked, as she felt a longing in her heart. "We were supposed to be for...ever,"

_____

Aastha drowsily entered Prateeksha's apartment. The last two days had been mentally taxing. Her feelings were all over the place and she couldn't decide what she wanted. The house was still in the same state she left to go to Hyderabad, things scattered, discarded clothes on the edge of the sofa, a bag she decided to not take along with her on the floor.

She tilted her head, trying to relieve the ache in her neck.

"Aaj bass din bhar sone ka programme rakhungi," (I'm just gonna sleep all day) she mumbled, picking up the newspaper and keeping it on the dining table. But before, Aastha could do anything, her phone rang loudly. She shut her eyes, confused as to how her phone was not on silent.

Wait. Di. Oh, she is going to kill me.

"He...hello di," her voice was low and hesitant.

"Ek message nahi bhej sakti? Sirf tere almost ex pati ka number hai terepaas?" (You couldn't send me a message? Do you just have your almost ex husband's number?) Nikita didn't waste time beating around the bush, coming to the point right away.

"S—

"Save it," Nikita immediately cut her off, her annoyance not a secret. "Do something for me and we'll be even,"

"Damn, that's how this is going to be?" Aastha groaned, already tired at the prospect of doing work.

"Yup," Nikita victoriously grinned, "Go to the house, and courier me a file,"

Aastha froze, her fist clenching.

"No one's going to be there right now," Nikita's voice was more gentle this time. "I really need those files. There's a lot of important documents in it. I got them to Mumbai for some work but forgot," she explained.

Aastha stayed silent, thousands of memories crashing onto her. Her breath hitched as she felt a gentle breeze make its way from the open window. That house? No fucking way.

"Aastha please," Nikita pestered. "You have to get it for me, my parents will forget all about it," she whined, making Aastha shake her head.

"Di...please," she whispered, feeling breathless. "How...please?"

"Aastha, no one's going to be there. And it's your house as much as it is his," Nikita's voice was firm. "Please, I beg of you. It's very important to me,"

"Please, please, please, please," Nikita continued her chant and by the twelfth time or something, Aashtha just hummed, halting her.

"Okay," she said, "I'll go tomorrow," she slowly uttered the words, blinking her eyes rapidly.

"Thank you, cutie, love you bohot saara,"

"Shut up," Aastha hurriedly mumbled, hanging up. She had to go back to her house. Her home. The place where she was married. The four walls she adorned, not just with decorations, but with memories.

But a tiny part of Aastha feared, feared that she'd slipped away further than she'd liked to. What if she was able to walk in and pretend like she was not back home? What if it felt like walking into a stranger's apartment?

_____

Mumbai felt unusually silent today.

All the typical cacophonous noises one would hear on a normal day were on the lowest volume while her heart beats blasting on a speaker. She parked her motorcycle at the same spot she had used for three long years. As she got off, her eyes fell on the small blue coloured nameplate stuck on the pillar.

402: Abhishek Sharma.

Her stomach knotted in anxiety, as she quickly tore her gaze away, speedily walking into the apartment complex. As the gate opened, she noticed the watchman give her a quizzical look, but when Aastha warmly smiled at middle aged man, he heartily smiled back, just like how he used to...three months ago.

Luckily Aastha got the elevator quickly, as her brain screamed at her to leave right away. Even the few seconds elevator ride felt long, the classical music played in the lift feeling unnecessarily stimulating, her leg shaking. As a ping was heard, she hastily exited, exhaling sharply.

"Don't look here and there, just do the thing and go back," she mumbled to herself, taking long strides to the house. The keys jingled in her fingers as she tried to swiftly open the door. But her hand trembled, legs going weak. Her throat went dry, feeling parched and she paused.

"Aastha?" A voice startled her, snapping it towards the source of the voice.

"Aunty, hello," she greeted the familiar face, an involuntary smile spreading on her lips.

"Beta, you had gone out of the country na? For studies?" Minal aunty, their warm neighbour curiously asked.

"Haa aunty, thode din pehle wapis aayi, pehle Hyderabad thi, abb aagayi Mumbai," (Yes aunty, I came back a few days ago. I was in Hyderabad first, now I'm back in Mumbai) she replied, not even realising that she had opened the lock to the door while chitchatting.

"Acha chalo beta, tumhe dekhke accha laga," (It was nice seeing you today) Minal sincerely said as Aastha pushed open the door, still conversing with Minal who was asking about her well being.

"Okay, bye aunty, take care," Aastha bobbed her head, walking into the house. The door closed, and Aastha instantly got busy, removing her shoes and quickly walking into the kitchen to pour herself some water.

A sigh left her lips as the cool liquid passed down her throat, walking out of the kitchen. It was then when she realised that her homecoming was nothing like she had anticipated. She had strolled in, like any other day.

Aastha had entered their abode, just the same way a person walks into their house after a long day, unbothered about the four walls, simply taking in the comfort of being home without making any effort. Not focusing on the expensive showpiece kept on the side table, photo frames from their happiest vacation insignificant.

Aastha came back like she never left.

To complement her comfort, nothing had really changed. The kitchen, the sofa...and the whiteboard. She squinted her eyes, taking a closer look at their little whiteboard.

The blue faded letters were still telling stories from three months before.

The tally marks counting the number of that's what she said jokes, the numerous reminders to buy Monaco biscuits, the corner whispering to her to call Prateeksha. Untouched and still conveying messages. Still waiting for her to tick off items from the checklist.

Waiting.

Aastha got away from the board, eyes falling on the photo frame kept beside. It had changed. Her brows furrowed in confusion, fingers caressing the glossy photo as she crouched down. It was her, in Goa. From when they first met. Three months ago, before she left, it used to be a picture of them from Switzerland, one of their favorite memories together. The fan's breeze made her hair sway, obstructing her vision. Aastha frowned, standing up, her own hair poking her eyes.

She opened a drawer instantly, picking up a scrunchie, using it to tie her hair. Deciding not to wallow in her memories as her brain kept on rewinding to the magical moments in Switzerland. The alpine winds, the chocolates...and him. Holding her hand and taking pictures like they were in a Bollywood movie.

The guest room looked exactly like Nikita di's room in Amritsar. She had a way of leaving her trace wherever she went. It wasn't loud, but it was visible. The way she tucked the bedsheet all the way in the mattress, the way there was a nightlamp on the switchboard by the desk. Aastha smiled, opening the cupboard for the file. To her luck, she didn't have to dig around and relive the most insignificant memories, moments she didn't even remember happening. She opened her tote bag, keeping the file in.

"I should go back," she said out loud, just to remind herself of her own voice. It wavered; tears stuck in her throat. She walked out of the room, glancing at her room only for a moment before exiting. the door was closed. Aastha didn't look around this time, walking quickly to open the door. But the cold knob of the door urged her to not leave as a thought struck her.

My diary. I should take it with me.

Swallowing, she turned back, taking slow steps to the room. She was confident that the diary would be untouched like the other things in the house. She mustered all her courage, gently pushing the door open. Everything stilled, thousands of memories crashing onto her. This was the corner of their house, where they were just them. Only Aastha and Abhishek. Cuddling, joking, pillow-fighting Aastha and Abhishek.

A familiar scent hit her nostrils. Vanilla. He had sprayed her favourite air fresher before leaving. The detail made her inhale sharply. She wanted to take step ahead, but it seemed like the world had come to a haunting halt. And what was left was a movie roll. It kept on playing the last three memories. Laughing, loving, singing off-key karaoke confidently, watching shows together.

She blinked, the memories fading away in oblivion. Did she want to come back? Or were the sweet memories haunting her thoughts to remind her of doom? She shook her head, too overwhelmed to think. She looked down at the floor, seeing her blank, void of emotions face on the floor. Her stomach churned as she felt a sense of deja vu. She had looked down to see herself the same way multiple times in this very room.

Still looking at the cold, hard floor Aastha took a few steps to the nightstand, beside her side of the bed. Her diary was in the last drawer, and Aastha had forgotten to take it along with her, mainly because she was sleeping in another room of the house when she left. She expected her washed out pink diary waiting for her there...but it was not. Aastha furrowed her brows, standing up straight. Am I on the wrong side?

She walked to Abhishek's side, pulling out the last drawer in his nightstand. And lo! The pink seemed duller this time, but that was Aastha's diary, waiting for her.

"Did I really forget what side I slept on?" she exasperatedly asked herself. Aastha sighed, rubbing her temple. "I need to get out of here," she muttered, successfully exiting the house this time, not before quickly rinsing the glass in which she had drank water.

Sorry for lying Minal aunty.

The elevator doors pinged as they closed, the closed doors witnessing the few tears she reigned back home.

Almost 600 kilometers away, the man Aastha had deserted in his hotel room was rummaging through his bag for a pink diary.

Next part's named post script btw🤭

No, no it's not the last part, more like the turning point of the story and we start chapter two then! next two parts will reveal what went wrong with the relationship and then chapter two will be rebuilding it brick by brick. lmk how you're liking the story so far? 💕