All Chapters of Trophy Wife: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

RoshniShit. Not him. He is the only good decision I’ve ever made. I can’t lose Junior. I can’t lose Junior…My heart skipped a beat that sprung me awake. I began struggling to breathe again.“Roshni.” Yasser rushed to me from the other couch. “Are you okay?”I sat up on the couch and he kneeled down before me. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”“No.” I shook my head, feeling like this time I wouldn’t be able to regain my control.“Breathe with me, Roshni. You know how it goes.”“I can’t.”“Yes you can, focus on me. Look in my eyes.”I focused on his eyes, his eyes and the sound of his counting.When it was over and I could breathe again, he took a seat next to me. I ran my hands in my hair and let out a heavy sigh. This couldn’t keep happening.“What, was it a bad dream?” He asked me, his voice clear and soft.I nodded.“Do you wanna tell me what happened in the dream?”I shook my head. I looked at the time on my phone. “It’s almost 6pm. I need to start going.” I got up. I wanted to take his

Preetah I cleaned the house, pushing furniture out of their places and getting every corner. I damp dusted everything that was not made of cotton, linen, or hemp. I did our laundry, ironed and then packed them away. After that, I cooked, fixed the table and then called babuji out to eat. “I could smell the food from my room.” He chuckled as he took a seat in his usual place. “Enjoy your food, father.” “Thank you, and where’s yours?” I shook my head and smiled. “I am not hungry.” His wrinkles creased up more when he frowned up at me. “You sure?” I nodded. “Is it because of last night?" He asked. “You look like you’ve been crying all night.” A sigh coming from deep down left my chest. Last night? Or every single day since I married his son? “I will talk to him when he comes back. Don’t stress like this, please.” He continued. “I am used to you being the life around here.” I pulled out a chair and sat down. “I got a call from India; my father was in hospital. His bl

Preetah I was wearing a short silk dress hand-picked by Arjun himself. My black wedges almost brought me up to his height. He stood behind me in the mirror, looking at himself. I took a couple of mirror selfies with him in the background. I was not one for pictures, but I needed a cute picture to post on my new I*******m account. According to B Linda, that was the ‘queen way of keeping all the females away without barking.’ So, this was it. After a whole day of watching every single video on her page, it was all down —mentally, down to the smallest detail: how I had to walk, talk, behave, and laugh. After today, Arjun would never want another woman if it wasn't me. “If you're done taking pictures, ma’am, can we go?” I gave him a playful smile, “Just one more.” I said, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Make a funny face.” Arjun raised an eyebrow but didn't object. He placed his lips in a hard line. Was that his idea of a funny face? Still, I pulled a duck face and snapped a quick

Preetah The scratching of the golden pen against paper was audible even in this loud atmosphere, I watched Arjun doodle his signature with natural ease, indicating strong muscle memory. He then went on to initial the bottom of all the papers. “Here.” He handed me the pen. “Sign here and then initial under every page. I can read you the document just in case you think you’re signing your life away.” He smiled. Was that supposed to be a joke? And at a time like this? I didn’t take the pen. “I just don’t get it.” I spoke. “The gifts this morning, the apology, taking me out tonight, what was all that for if you knew that you’d end the day by making me sign divorce papers?” He sighed. “The apology was genuine.” “You could have done all this at home, you even picked out a dress for me, Arjun –” My voice broke. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice, but you wanted to go somewhere I wanted to, I agreed because I thought about it like a last ask –” “You can’t be serious.” More tears fell

RoshniA car that had overtaken the second car from us had collided head to head with another moving in the opposite direction. Junior stopped the car and was undoing his seat belt quickly. “Where are you going?”“To see if they’re okay. Call an ambulance.” He rushed out, leaving the key in the ignition.I grabbed the keys and ran after him. My fingers, which were normally fast on the keyboard, were fumbling three little digits: 112.The driver that had overtaken had a deep cut on his forehead, with blood gushing out. I had never seen that much blood before. My heart began pounding faster. As I spoke to the operator, I watched Junior pull his plain white t-shirt over his head and hold it ag