His Wife (A Contract Marriage Story) by Heer Mangtani

Chapter 67

The part of me that still believed that the man I loved would come for me, would call me and rectify his mistake and give me the lamest excuse laming from how he was drugged to how he was hypnotised or blackmailed to do what he did and I would fall back into his arms after throwing a lot of tantrums and making him seriously grovel for lying to me in the first place, was dying with every passing hour because nothing of that sort happened.

I and Luna were in a motel that I rented to spend the next twelve hours in, because that’s when my flight was.

My phone didn’t ring once. A few texts here and there asking how I’m doing after my grandfather’s passing, but I ignored them all. My Grandpa’s passing is something I rather not even think about right now, owing to how it felt like my life fell apart.

Twelve hours later was when our flight was scheduled. My phone still bare, I switched it off.

Even the other side of the country and starting anew in a completely different state didn’t seem far enough from memories I was leaving behind.

There was always the option of going back to my hometown and staying in my old house, but I don’t think I was strong enough for that. I couldn’t live with the pitiful eyes of all my neighbours because my grandfather died and my marriage fell apart all in the same week.

I wasn’t that girl anymore, who could go back to her old 9-5 job, and volunteer at the pet shelter, have sleepovers

Alice and barbecues with Sam. I couldn’t come home to that empty house every night.

Maybe it would get better with time, but the desperation to start fresh was deeper.

Twenty four h

that time when I was kidnapped, and had ended up using one of Gabriel’s spare cards for the time being. Recovery happened, work happened, but I

keen on changing numbers. A what-if always loomed

old number because of reasons (that I didn’t understand) that started with it being registered under Gabriel’s name and ended with something about it being a private number that only he had access to so I couldn’t choose another plan, I

as if killing the part of myself that still had hope

leave his life I could still text him

case.

in all my time there) bit me in the a*s right

for a

the hands of a girl he wanted nothing to do

to the point where I missed all my new interviews, and hardly got out of bed. I kept sick all the

out to see a therapist which I

1/2

2/2

would be a drain to

that I can get to work again and get out of the shady apartment I

I

of depression, Zooni Khan, my 47 year old doctor tells me the diagnosis I already knew and

of restocking my tampons since

take a pregnancy

to pee on a stick. I can do it, right,

to come with me, but she had been my anchoring in the past month. She