Page 83 of Born in Grief

She reached the third floor and followed the commotion into the master bedroom. Her bedroom, she thought dispassionately, even though she’d been sleeping in the guest bedroom on the ground floor after she’d come back.

The packers had broken the designer photo frame that held their enlarged wedding picture. She stepped closer, her shoes crunching down on the shattered glass, as she stared down at the picture. Her Sabyasachi lehenga draped perfectly over her frame, her heavy gold jewelry the perfect cover for it. The only thing missing was her smile.

When had she lost it and how had she not noticed? Even in those early days, she didn’t smile, not in a single picture or video. In contrast, Varun’s smile practically split his face, growing wider with each captured moment. Or with each snorted or injected fix of the drug of his choice, she thought.

“Sorry Madam.” The man in charge was practically in tears as he watched her watch the broken image of her so-called marriage.

“It’s okay,” she replied, taking a deliberate step forward and letting her heel grind into Varun’s smile. “Get it cleaned up and throw it in the trash.”

The man hurried to get it done as Dhrithi took in the rest of the bedroom. Most of it was packed and gone, including the large four poster bed that had dominated the room. She waited for the fear to come, to swamp her like it always did when she was in this space. But it didn’t come. There was pain, there was grief, there was regret and there was anger but the fear…the fear was gone.

“Leave for the day,” she told the supervisor who’d come back to hover by her side. “Your men can come back tomorrow and continue.”

“Madam, we’re very sorry,” he began again.

“It’s fine. I told you.” She smiled quickly to reassure him. “It’s fine. Please leave for today. I’d like to rest now.”

They filed out after cleaning every last shard of glass, leaving the floor sparkling like it never had before. She picked up the wedding picture and stuffed it in the trash can herself. Silence fell around the cavernous mansion as the help ushered the packers out of the house and retired to their own quarters for the night.

She’d fired half the people who worked here, starting with the security team. She couldn’t stand the sight of the men who’d watched Varun brutalise her, day in and day out, and then covered for him. She’d kept the people who’d run and hid. After all, hadn’t she done the same? They were survivors, them and her. But the accomplices, the men who helped him cover it all up, those she’d gotten rid off before the day had even begun.

She missed Amay, so bloody much. It hadn’t been long since he’d come back into her life, but her feelings for him had lived within her for much longer than that. He’d been the hope she’d clung to in her darkest days. His was the smile that had lit up her world when it had felt like there was nothing left to smile about. And his was the memory she’d held close, the memory that there was good somewhere out in the world, even if it wasn’t in her world.

If she had to live without him again, so be it. She would always have her memories, from school and from the last few weeks. Alife with him in it had anyway been an impossible dream. One she’d had the audacity to dream, nevertheless.

She stepped through the bathroom door and into the walk-in closet that still housed her clothes, thousands of them, some with the tags still on. The packers had started to pack here, disrupting the meticulous order that her staff normally maintained. Some clothes were placed in a carton, some on the floor and several more hanging from the lines of hangers.

She dropped to her knees and crawled to the back, to the dark nook that had sheltered her on so many nights. Except for the last when he’d found her. In the end, he’d always found her.

She settled her back against the wall, shut her eyes, and waited for it, the fear that had been her living companion all her adult life. She waited for hours in the dark, her heart thudding its steady, reassuring beat. The fear never came.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and smiled, her plans for her future crystal clear in her mind for the first time ever. She went to push herself off the floor, moving to her hands and knees to crawl out of the space when her hand slipped on some paper. She hissed in pain as her elbow caught the wooden panel on her right. The packers must have left some of their packing material on the ground. She swiped it up and crawled out of the dark and into the light, blinking slightly as the dim lighting of the dressing area hurt her eyes.

She got to her feet and went over to the half-packed carton, intending to drop the paper in when something caught her eye. She glanced down at what she held. It wasn’t packing material. It was a photo.

She brought it closer, holding it up to the light, her blood chilling at what she saw. And in that moment, she knew what she held. She held a snippet of Varun’s truth, one he hadn’t allowed even her to see.

Chapter Forty-Eight

AMAY

Amay stood on the front step of the massive porch that seemed to wrap around the ridiculous, Victorian style mansion that Dhrithi had apparently lived in. The place looked completely deserted. He hadn’t even crossed a security guard on the way in, which was odd. Shouldn’t a house this size have massive security?

He’d raised one hand to ring the doorbell when his phone started to ring instead. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display, intending to silence it. His thumb froze over the screen when he saw Dhrithi’s name flashing on it.

Bemused, he swiped up, turning his back on the door and leaning against it.

“Amay, I need you.”

Every sense went on alert when he heard the tension in her voice. “I’m here sweetheart. What-“

“I need to show you something,” she interrupted. “Where are you? I’m coming to you.”

“Open your door.”

“What?”

“Open your front door, Dhriths.”

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