"The way you use your tongue… it feels so good… the way you—"
I quickly covered his mouth.
"I get it."
He gently pulled my hand away, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"Let me finish."
"I already know what you're going to say."
"Then maybe we should try it one more time…"
I covered his mouth again, but this time he just smiled against my hand—
completely amused,
and enjoying every second of teasing me.
"Varun, can I say something?"
"You don't need to ask."
"I didn't like the way Karan behaved with you."
I wish someone had told me the same thing when my mother behaved like that. I would have felt lighter. I wouldn't have blamed myself; I wouldn't have doubted myself.
Maybe telling him would change things for him.
"Oh, that? We are brothers—things happen."
Really? Was it that kind of moment?
"No, Varun. Boundaries are—" I was about to finish my sentence when he interrupted.
"Boundaries?" he laughed.
"In a joint family?"
He was in denial. He didn't even want to acknowledge that Karan's behavior had hurt him.
"Yeah, right. I must be overthinking," I said. Because it would take time for him to accept that he was wronged. Until then, let's just pretend nothing happened.
Or maybe he just doesn't want to admit it in front of me.
I wish I could tell him I've seen these patterns before—that people like this don't change, and they keep hurting us.
In the morning, we decided to have breakfast together as a family.
It had been Arun's idea. He insisted on cooking and declared himself the chef for the day, walking around the kitchen with an apron like it was a badge of honour. He looked unusually proud, as if preparing breakfast for all of us was some kind of personal victory.
Karan and Varun were seated at the dining table, deep in discussion about the renovation work planned for their floor—measurements, contractors, timelines… serious adult things.
Arun and I found ourselves drifting into our own quiet conversation near the counter, our voices low, private.
No one wanted to address what had happened yesterday, and maybe it wasn't important to them.
So I stopped thinking about it too. My aim is not to fix anyone; it is to get out of here soon. So, let's just find happiness until then.
"Did you ask Varun about the bottles?" Arun whispered, leaning closer, his breath warm near my ear.
I shook my head slightly. "No," I replied just as softly. "But I saw them in his room."
His eyebrow lifted. "Where?"
"Under the bed."
A slow smile spread across his face. He patted my back lightly, as if I had completed a task successfully.
"You'll be rewarded for this," he said, mock-serious.
I chuckled, unable to hide my grin.
Karan noticed us then.
"What's going on?" he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Why do you two look so suspicious?"
"Nothing," Arun and I replied together, too quickly.
Karan raised an eyebrow. "Is he teaching you something illegal?" he teased. "Something I'm not allowed to know?"
"She isn't that easy to manipulate," Varun added with a grin, glancing up from his phone. "She must be equally involved in this."
I shot him a sharp look.
"Ohhh, hawww," Arun exclaimed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Bad husband. Very bad husband."
Varun laughed, raising both hands in surrender as he looked at me.
"I'm sorry-that's not what I meant."
"No," Karan said calmly, glancing at me instead. "She heard very clearly what you said."
I met Karan's gaze and nodded.
For the first time that morning, I felt genuinely happy.
In my house, whenever I joked about something, my mother used to roll her eyes—as if I wasn't allowed to. She adored Divya's jokes. She laughed at my father's. But mine—the funniest of them all—couldn't even earn a smile.
"I will see you later," I warned Varun lightly, pointing a finger at him. "Just wait and watch."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Arun gave me moral support.
Then-
"Ma'am, you can't go inside-please. Karan sir is with his family."
The sudden voice cut through the warmth of the room.
It was Kaveri.
Panicked. Desperate.
Before any of us could react, a girl appeared at the far end of the hallway.
She froze when she saw us laughing together.
Her gaze slowly moved past Arun, past Varun-until it finally landed on Karan.
And just like that, her expression softened.
With the gentlest look in her eyes, she began walking toward him.
It felt unreal. Like a slow-motion scene from a movie.
I glanced at Varun, then at Arun, silently asking what was going on.
Both of them shrugged, clearly just as confused.
"Karan," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Shreya?" Karan asked, startled. "What are you doing here?"
"I just-"
She never finished the sentence.
Her body swayed.
And before anyone could process what was happening, she collapsed.
Karan rushed forward instinctively and caught her just before she hit the floor.
All of us stood up at once, concern flooding the room.
"She has a weak heart," Karan said urgently as he lifted her into his arms. "I should call the doctor."
He carried her toward the guest room without waiting for a response.
"She's Shreya... right?" Varun whispered as Arun and I followed.
"Is she his ex?" Arun added quietly.
Both of them turned to look at me.
"You should get jealous," Arun said, raising his eyebrows.
"What?" I scoffed. "Jealous of someone with a weak heart?"
He shook his head. "Not that kind of risk. The sympathy kind."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"She's weak. She's fragile. She needs someone."
Then he looked at me pointedly.
"And you? You're someone who plots beer bottles with one husband against another."
Varun blinked. "Oh... you told him?"
I shot Arun a deadly glare.
"I have three husbands," I said calmly. "You have one wife. Pick your battles wisely."
Arun smirked.
"I'm just saying-if you don't act fast, you might lose one to Shreya."
My jaw dropped.
I had just gotten married to three husbands.
The very next day, there had been a ceremony-after which one of them grew visibly jealous.
And just when I thought life might finally settle into something normal, another girl appeared out of nowhere.
A sick one.
At that point, it honestly felt like some deity was clearly not happy with me.
Lost in those thoughts, I watched as Karan brought in a doctor. He immediately began checking Shreya.
Everything happened far too quickly.
While the doctor examined her, I pulled Karan aside.
"How do you know this doctor?"
"She used to faint earlier too," he replied, his voice tense. "I saved his number in case of emergencies."
He looked genuinely worried.
Too worried.
"Karan, now that you're married to Shreya, take good care of her," the doctor said firmly. "She's extremely tense. Keep her away from stress."
What the hell was that assumption?
"I'm his wife," I corrected sharply.
The doctor frowned. "But... you were in love. What happened?"
"She vanished without saying anything," Karan said quietly.
"Oh," the doctor sighed. "Then she probably didn't want to be a burden."
I turned slowly to look at my other two husbands, asking them with my eyes what kind of doctor talks like that.
But then something clicked.
Doctors doesn't take this much interest in your personal life .
This didn't look professional at all.
It looks like a doctor from some movie.
And then story felt relatable.
SCAMS.
Weren't scams like these common in Delhpur? I asked myself.
Almost every month, the news carried similar stories.
Girls with carefully crafted sob stories approached wealthy men-not to rob them outright, but to build emotional traps. Illnesses. Disappearances. Silent suffering.
The money meant little to the men.
But to the girls, it covered an entire month's expenses.
Then they vanished.
Only to return when they needed more.
It was organised crime. The same people. The same patterns. Convincing enough to fool anyone.
There was no point explaining this to Karan.
He would never believe the love of his life was a fraud.
But suspicion wasn't enough.
I needed proof.
"I should leave," the doctor said.
"You'll pay my fee?" he asked casually.
"I'll transfer it," Karan replied. "How much?"
"Thirty thousand."
"No problem."
That was it.
That single moment sealed it.
My husbands thought she was here for Karan.
But I knew better.
She was here for money.
I showed Arun and Varun a few articles I found online. Their expressions shifted. But they didn't believe me immidiately.
"How old do you think he is?" I asked.
"Twenty-four... twenty-five." they replied.
"And his fee?"
"Thirty thousand." Arun said.
"Only doctors with grey hair and decades of experience charge that much," I said quietly. "MBBS takes years. MD takes two. Experience matters."
They exchanged looks.
"And remember," I added softly, "he was her doctor two years ago too."
They believed me. Their expressions changed to little worry.
"Go after him," I whispered.
They laughed.
"We're not the police," Varun said.
"So you'll let her scam your brother?"
"Of course not," Arun replied. "We'll hire detectives."
Oh.
I felt stupid.
Only people with money thought like that.
They stepped aside to make calls.
I texted Divya.
Almost an hour later, Shreya's eyes fluttered open.
"Karan..." she whispered.
"Karaann..." she sobbed like a child.
"It's okay," Karan murmured gently.
"Am I dying?" she asked weakly.
And just before my stupid husband could pull her into his arms-
I started my own drama.
"Shreya," I cried, rushing to her bed, "you've had a heart condition for years..."
I hugged her tightly.
"How could God be so cruel?" I whispered, tears filling my eyes.
I kissed her forehead.
Hugged her again.
Extra love was necessary-for scammers.
She looked utterly disgusted.
At least one thing was confirmed.
She wasn't a lesbian.
She tried to pull away.
I lost my balance.
And fell on her.
And then-
A KISSSSSSSSSSS.
Mouth to mouth.
Which I swear-
was not planned at all.