Is it possible for a cage to offer freedom? A deeply conservative father, a mother resigned to the status quo, and the ghost of a twisted abuse have beat Kriti Tripathi into a numb kind of acceptance. The kind of acceptance that allows her to block out the uncomfortable realities that come with forming meaningful bonds with the people around her. When her mother shoves her into an arranged marriage to a stranger, Kriti is forced to confront secrets that have painted her past black and surrendered her future to the demands of her possessor. But Kriti’s quietly mysterious husband has been whispering things as she struggles to adjust to her new life. Things that make her think she might not be as trapped as she feels, and Kriti begins to suspect that this marriage might mean more than she expected. Kriti isn’t the only one who has been keeping secrets. Even her perfectly responsible, too mature husband has something to hide. Secrets have a way of revealing themselves, though. When the demons of her past show up on her doorstep, the secrets they‘ve been keeping threaten to destroy Kriti and her marriage; unless Kriti can reform herself into her own brand of a savior.
View MoreEPILOGUEThree Years LaterThe hairdresser was busy as she carefully straightened each strand of my dark brown locks. I searched my own face in the mirror and found that I’ve aged a little.Years have flown by. The day Arnav and I became one, my whole life changed. It wasn't too soon after that I found my real calling, my real passion and I wrote a book. I always wanted to be everything at once, and being a writer helped me to be that. For my third book, I landed a reputable publisher. Arnav and I have since been each other's best friends and he calls me his better half. My phone rang and I answered Arnav’s call on the first ring.“Hello? Kriti, are you ready yet?”“Almost, it will take about twenty more minutes.”“Okay, I’m leaving to pick you. Prabhat has called me several times already. We must be there by 6 pm sharp.”“We’ll be there at six, Arnav, don’t worry.”“Okay! I’m on my way. Love you.”Today, my second book was launching. It was a big day for me. I was right, I was made t
POV: KritiHe leaned in and our lips met again, for the third time in the last hour. It seemed like my husband wasn’t in a mood to go to work today. A swift move of his hand, and I heard the door close with a loud bang. His other hand explored my back through the thin line of cotton between our bodies. I moaned and gasped for breath and he finally released my lips, with a pleased and mischievous smile on his face.“Kriti! I need to leave now.”“Am I stopping you?” I dared.“No, but you’re not making it easy”My hand was entangled with his. I left it, waving my hands in a submitting motion. “I am not doing anything.”“But your eyes are telling me a different story.” He encircled his firm arms around my waist, nearly lifting me up from the ground, and whispered, “and you know what I would do if you keep doing that.”My lips curled into a smile as I buried my head on his shoulder. He’d been doing this since when we’d had that heartfelt tear-shedding moment. Hugging me tightly before leav
POV: ArnavThose words, those exact words were something I had longed to hear from her since the day I’d realized my love for her. I’d wondered, since that first day, if she’d be able to love a workaholic, boring, unexpressive businessman? I am who I am, I can’t change this person I’ve become. I felt my eyes getting heavy. I couldn’t hear anything but her sobs. And those words kept, again and again, repeating in my head, ‘I just... I love you so much…’ I closed my eyes. I felt something hot and wet slide down my cheek. Was it a tear? A tear of joy? I was numb. It didn’t even occur to me that I had to say something to her in return. To offer her a response to the revelations of her deepest feelings. I felt as if God had granted me some wish for which I’d prayed to him daily. I held her as close and as fiercely as I could for long minutes. And only then did I realize that now, it w
POV: KritiArnav was sitting quietly as he dressed my leg with a crepe bandage. I wanted to talk to him but his iron composure was making me scared. I knew he had to hate me. I wasn’t going to get a way out. I didn’t want to face him earlier. So, I just ran away. I ran away and left the diary for him. I’d been trying to talk to him for days, tell him everything that had happened, but I just couldn’t find the courage. I knew he was hurt. It was clearly visible on his face. And those eyes, when he came out running from the car and realized that it was me he had hit…“Arnav, I’m fine. It’s alright.”He looked directly into my eyes and took a deep breath, regaining that calmness. “Kriti, can I ask you something?”“Yes, Arnav.”“Have I ever scolded you?”I had no reply and just shook my head ‘no’.“Hav
POV: ArnavHours had passed and all my efforts had been in vain. I was just circling the city in my car and I had no clue where she might be. I had looked at every place I could possibly think of, and I had nothing in my mind now. I’d been in touch with Akansha and my phone again rang again.“Akansha, any news?” My voice filled with a tiny little spark of hope.“NoJeeju,” she said sadly, “nothing. Did you check café Downing Street?”“Yes, she wasn’t there. I asked for her everywhere.”We were both playing on assumptions of this unpredictable girl.“Did you look at any of the streets she likes to walk or anything?”“Yes,” I conceded. My hands ruffled my hair, “I did, I looked everywhere. Not a single person has seen her.”“Oh God, what will we do
POV: ArnavI tried calling her but she wouldn’t pick up her phone. She was angry and I’d first have to apologize for my earlier behavior, I was fine with that.I reached our home and I knocked at the door. I kept knocking, but she didn’t answer. When I let myself in, she wasn’t there. My chest got tight as I looked around the empty house. Whenever she had to go somewhere she’d always tell me. Maybe she had gone to buy more craft supplies.The first thing I saw, laying on the coffee table, was a black diary. The one in which Kriti writes now is purple, where did this black one come from and why was it here? There was a paper under the paper weight, kept on that black thing. I sat on the sofa and tried calling her again, but she wasn’t answering. The sinking feeling inside began to grow. Panic. This was what panic felt like. I hated it.I took a look at the paper.‘Arn
Four years ago, February:Dear Diary, we’ll be celebrating our second anniversary this April. Me and Sameer, the bond between us has grown so much. He talks to me like he’s planning to propose soon. Although, we have had our issues.Sameer, never liked me working at the Cultural Society. A few weeks ago, I had to work and he wanted me to go home with him instead. I had to tell him no, and he got angry. I sometimes don’t like his anger, the way he behaves with me, when he gets angry. As if, there’s nothing worthwhile about me all. He screams at me, he sometimes uses bad words. He hurts me sometimes, by his words, by his gestures, and a little bit physically too, he has left marks on my body, marks I’ve had to hide or lie about to my parents. He throws things, whatever he gets hold of, but then afterwards he always apologizes, he always tells me it was me, that I made him do it,
POV: ArnavI exhaled a breath as I hung upAbhishek Bhaiya’scall. He said he missed me. Even I miss our family but at least, Kriti and Golu were there. It had been nearly two weeks since Golu had arrived. That bastard had actually kept his promise by meeting me several times. I felt good with him. All those years, when I was all alone, I met him regularly just because, most of the time, he made my tension, the pressures, fade away a little bit. When I was struggling with the relationship with my real brother, he was there with me at least. I was able to just live some peaceful moments with him. We went for drives together in Kanpur on his bike. It gave me so much contentment when we drove to his place here in Indore the first time. I thought back to what he’d said on that first day while we were driving to his place.He’d been surprised. “Kriti, you found her?”“I didn&r
Five Years Ago, January:Dear Diary, each passing day is becoming more and more difficult for me. I just can’t forget the things he said to me after reading that letter. The first thing he asked me was, “why?”He asked me why I loved him. Does that even makes sense? Is there ever a reason why we love someone the way we do? Is it even under my control? Couldn’t he see that, with every day that passed, after that first conversation of ours, that I felt something? I fell for him. Head over heels. He made me feel special, made me feel like he cared about me, and I loved him for it. We’ve spent so many days together, and I now realize that I spent those days in a lie of my own manufacturing. I was so sure he loved me. But he doesn’t.He said, “can’t we just be friends?”What kind of friendship is this? What kind of friend sits by your si
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