**Chapter 18: The Uninvited**
Aanya wasn't expecting company that day.
She had taken the afternoon off, something she rarely did now that her mind was constantly tugged between home and the MBA prep classes she had recently started attending in secret. Arjun didn't know. Not yet. She needed to be sure she could even handle it before telling him.
She stood on the balcony, a steaming cup of masala chai in her hand, the humid Hyderabad air brushing against her skin. For a moment, it felt peaceful. Still.
Then the doorbell rang.
Frowning, she placed the cup down and walked to the door, brushing back her loose hair as she peered through the peephole.
Her breath hitched.
Megha.
Raghav's wife.
The last person she'd ever imagined seeing at her doorstep.
She opened the door slowly.
"Megha?" her voice was barely above a whisper.
Megha stood there with a half-smile, dressed in a soft beige kurta and a matching dupatta draped neatly over one shoulder. She looked elegant. Composed.
"Hey, Aanya. I hope I'm not intruding."
Aanya hesitated. Her instincts screamed *shut the door*—but something in Megha's eyes made her pause.
"Come in," she said, stepping aside.
***
They sat in the living room, the tension coiled tight between them. Aanya offered tea, which Megha declined politely.
"I'm not here to fight," Megha began, as if reading her mind. "I just wanted to talk. One woman to another."
Aanya raised an eyebrow. "About Raghav?"
Megha nodded. "He told me everything. About you. About how serious it was. He didn't hide it."
Aanya shifted uncomfortably. "That was a long time ago."
"I know. I'm not here to drag up the past. I married him with full knowledge of what he felt for you. And I still chose him."
Aanya stared. That level of honesty was rare.
"I don't blame you," Megha continued. "You ended things. You moved on. But I also know what heartbreak looks like, Aanya. And I think you're still carrying some of it."
"That's not true," Aanya replied quickly.
Megha tilted her head, observing her. "Then why do you look so... trapped?"
Aanya bristled. "I'm married."
"So am I," Megha said. "Doesn't mean everything's perfect. But we try. Every single day."
Aanya's throat tightened.
"You might think I came here because I'm insecure or jealous," Megha added. "But I came because I want closure—for both of us. I need to know if there's anything left between you and Raghav that I should be worried about."
Aanya met her gaze firmly. "There isn't. Whatever I had with Raghav... it ended long before you came into the picture. I don't want him. I don't even think about him."
Megha smiled. "Then I wish you well, Aanya. I hope this marriage works for you. And I hope... you find the kind of peace you're searching for."
She rose to leave, adjusting her dupatta.
Aanya walked her to the door. Before leaving, Megha turned back.
"I wasn't trying to intimidate you," she said softly. "Just… understand you. From one woman caught in the web of expectations to another."
And then she was gone.
***
That evening, Arjun returned early. He was in a surprisingly good mood, holding a box of her favorite street-side samosas and imli chutney.
But Aanya couldn't stop thinking about the visit.
At one point, while they sat on the couch watching a mindless movie, she turned to him.
"Do you think we're... happy?"
Arjun looked at her, caught off guard. "Where did that come from?"
"Just answer."
He set the remote down and leaned back. "I think we're trying. I think I'm trying really hard. And sometimes, I think you're still not here—not really."
She didn't respond.
"I ran into Megha today," she said finally.
He straightened. "Raghav's wife?"
"Yes. She came to see me."
His eyes darkened instantly. "What did she want?"
"To talk. Woman to woman, she said."
Arjun got up, pacing. "This is not okay, Aanya. You should've told her to leave."
"She wasn't rude or anything. She just wanted to know if I was over Raghav."
"And what did you tell her?"
"That I don't love him. That I'm married now."
He paused, turning to face her. "But are you?"
The question landed with weight.
"I'm trying," she whispered.
Arjun looked away, his voice low. "It's hard loving someone who's always looking back."
"I'm not," she said sharply. "I'm just... struggling to look forward."
He took a step toward her, frustration clouding his face. "I've given everything I have to this marriage, Aanya. I don't even look at other women. I've changed, for you. And you still make me feel like I'm not enough."
"That's not fair—"
"It's true."
The silence stretched between them like a chasm.
He exhaled. "I'm afraid you'll leave."
"You can't live your life based on that fear."
"But I do. Every single day."
He turned and walked out to the balcony, leaving her alone in the room with her thoughts.
***
Later that night, Arjun hadn't spoken a word. He slept facing the other side, his back to her. The emotional wall between them felt taller than ever.
And yet, she reached out—tentatively—her hand hovering near his.
She didn't touch him.
But she wanted to.
Maybe that was a start.
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**[End of Chapter 18]**