The Twisted Knots

2.

Returning from the ceremony, Riya and I collapsed onto our bed. The day's frenzy replayed in my mind—the rushed preparations, the ceremony's excitement.Amidst it all, thoughts of Rajveer emerged.

"What's wrong with me?" I muttered.

Our exhaustion melted away as we sank into the softness of our bed, the events of the day lingering in my thoughts, blending with the warmth between us.

As Riya and I delved into a casual conversation about random topics, Riya interjected with a mischievous grin, "Did you see how hot Rajveer looked today?"

I raised an eyebrow, teasingly replying, "Why are you always talking about boys?"

Riya, undeterred, quipped, "If you're not allowed to talk about other boys, that doesn't mean I'm not allowed too."

As Riya continued to enthusiastically dissect every aspect of Rajveer's demeanor, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Her fascination with him bordered on the comical, and I found it hard to take seriously. Just as I was about to redirect the conversation to something less Rajveer-centric, a soft chime echoed through the room – a message on my phone.

Riya, always quick to pick up on any shift in the atmosphere, noticed the distraction and seized the opportunity to inquire about Rajveer. "So, Tara," she began, a mischievous glint in her eye, "what do you really think about Rajveer? Did you notice how intently he was staring at you during the ceremony?"

Suppressing a laugh, I decided to let the message on my phone serve as my response. With a sly smile, I revealed the notification to Riya. Her eyes flitted between the screen and me, curiosity etched across her face.

"What's that?" Riya asked, her anticipation palpable.

I read the message aloud, "Still up for tonight?." It was a message from Kabir, my boyfriend, inquiring if I was still up for the club tonight.

With a theatrical flourish, I shook my phone in Riya's direction, a playful smirk on my face. "Well, there you have it," I declared. "I have a boyfriend."

With a playful eye roll, Riya retreated to her bed. "Do not disturb me; I am going to sleep," she declared, closing her eyes in a mock display of bedtime determination. However, the tranquility was short-lived as her phone pinged, disrupting the serene atmosphere.

Riya couldn't resist the allure of the notification, promptly opening her eyes and reaching for her phone to check the message. Amused by her inability to resist the digital beckoning, I couldn't help but chuckle. Seizing the opportunity, I typed a quick message to my boyfriend, "Yes, and I have a special surprise for you," before setting my phone aside.

I found myself drawn to the elegantly wrapped box on the table, the anticipation of our 1-year anniversary celebration building within me. As my fingers traced the edges of the neatly concealed gift, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that inside rested a smartwatch carefully chosen for Kabir.

Memories of Kabir flooded my mind, taking me back to the time when our paths were intricately woven together by the threads of destiny. Our parents, with a shared vision to expand their businesses, had orchestrated our union in the grand tapestry of arranged marriages.

Initially, our connection was merely a result of familial aspirations. However, as we got to know each other, a unique fondness began to blossom.

Imagining Kabir's reaction as he unwrapped the present brought a warmth to my heart.

As I glanced at Riya, who was now sitting on her bed and engrossed in her phone, an unexpected shift in her demeanor caught my attention. She seemed perplexed, like something was amiss. I couldn't resist inquiring, "What's wrong?"

Riya looked up, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. "I'm sorry, Tara, but you've got to see this," she said, handing me her phone. Intrigued, I took the device, wondering what could have prompted such a sudden change in the atmosphere.

A heavy weight settled in my chest as my eyes fixated on the image before me—a photograph that felt like a punch to the gut.

There was Kabir, someone I thought I knew so intimately, sharing a moment with a girl I couldn't place. The stark reality of them locked in a kiss on a couch, surrounded by the vibrant chaos of a club, shattered the sense of security I had carefully woven.

It was a scene that clashed violently with the narrative I had painted in my mind—a narrative of trust, love, and commitment. The room, the unknown girl, and Kabir's unmistakable silhouette sent shockwaves through my heart, leaving behind the residue of heartbreak.

Questions swirled in my mind like a storm, demanding answers I wasn't sure I was ready to hear. The photograph, an unwelcome window into a reality I hadn't fathomed, left me grappling with a spectrum of emotions—betrayal, confusion, and a profound sense of loss. The image etched itself into my consciousness, a painful reminder that the love I believed in had taken an unforeseen detour.

As tears welled up in my eyes, I felt the weight of betrayal crashing down on me. The image on my phone screen, capturing Kabir intimately entwined with an unknown girl in a club, seemed like a cruel twist of fate. In my despair, Riya rose from her bed, a silent ally in my moment of heartache.

Riya gently took the phone from my trembling hands, and with a visceral reaction, she tossed it onto the bed. The sudden thud resonated in the room, matching the ache in my heart. "It can't be true. It must be from before we started dating," I pleaded, my voice barely audible through the lump forming in my throat.

"I'm sorry, Tara, but it is true," Riya whispered, her eyes reflecting the sorrow of having to deliver such painful news. "Shristi sent this photo. She was at the club yesterday and saw Kabir with some other girl."

My mind struggled to reconcile this harsh reality with the Kabir I thought I knew. Disbelief lingered in my gaze as I clung to the hope that this was a misunderstanding, that Kabir couldn't betray our trust so callously.

Riya, sensing my internal turmoil, placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I can't believe he could do that," I murmured, my voice echoing the shattered fragments of my trust.

"I know, Tara. It's hard to accept, but sometimes the truth is difficult," Riya empathized, her presence a lifeline in the storm of emotions. As I grappled with the heartbreak unfolding before me, Riya stood by my side, offering silent support amidst the wreckage of shattered expectations.

"I can't face Kabir tonight," I uttered, my voice carrying the weight of disappointment and hurt. The idea of confronting the person I believed had shattered our trust seemed daunting, and I wasn't sure I was ready to unravel the layers of our relationship.

Riya, however, offered a different perspective. "You should face him," she urged gently. "He doesn't deserve you."

Her words resonated, and as I grappled with the turmoil within, Riya continued, "Tara, you're a genuinely nice girl. We all see how much you love Kabir. It's not a secret on campus. You deserve someone who values and respects you."

Her sincerity struck a chord, and I felt a mix of vulnerability and strength coursing through me. Riya's encouragement became a lifeline, a reminder that my worth transcended the pain of betrayal. Despite the uncertainty ahead, her support offered a glimmer of resilience in a moment of heartbreak.

In the midst of my emotional turmoil, a sudden chime echoed through the room, and my phone screen illuminated with a message from Kabir. "Can't wait," he had messaged, accompanied by a heart emoji.