The First Crackkk
1145 Words
Morning did not arrive gently.
It slipped into the room through the tall glass windows, pale and indifferent, as if the night had never happened. The soft light brushed against the walls, the polished floors, the untouched bed.
Meera hadn’t slept.
Not really.
She had closed her eyes, yes. Turned to one side, then the other. Tried to quiet the noise inside her head. But every time she drifted toward sleep, his voice returned.
This isn’t love… it’s revenge.
---
She sat at the edge of the bed now, still in last night’s clothes, the weight of her jewelry finally removed but the weight in her chest very much intact.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe it had been a misunderstanding.
A strange, poorly timed statement.
Something said in tension.
But then—
Her eyes shifted toward the door.
And reality settled back in.
---
A knock came.
Soft.
Measured.
---
“Ma’am?”
Ramu’s voice.
---
Meera stood, straightening herself instinctively.
“Yes… come in.”
---
The door opened, and Ramu entered with quiet efficiency. Behind him, a maid followed, carrying neatly folded clothes.
“Sir has asked for you to be ready in thirty minutes,” Ramu said.
---
Meera frowned slightly.
“Ready for what?”
---
Ramu hesitated.
Only for a second.
But she noticed.
---
“For breakfast,” he replied.
---
Breakfast.
Such a normal word.
Such an ordinary routine.
---
But nothing about this felt ordinary.
---
Meera nodded anyway.
“Alright.”
---
Ramu gave a slight bow and stepped out. The maid placed the clothes on the bed and left without a word.
---
Meera looked at what had been chosen for her.
A soft, elegant saree.
Subtle.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
---
But not hers.
---
She touched the fabric lightly, her fingers brushing against something that felt unfamiliar.
This life.
This place.
This role.
---
And yet…
She wore it.
Because again—
What choice did she have?
---
---
The dining hall was massive.
Long table.
Perfectly aligned chairs.
Everything arranged with precision that felt almost unnatural.
---
Aarav sat at the head.
Already there.
Already composed.
Already in control.
---
He didn’t look up when she entered.
---
Meera paused at the entrance for a moment before walking in. Her footsteps echoed faintly against the marble floor.
She took a seat.
Not too close.
Not too far.
---
The silence began immediately.
---
A servant placed breakfast in front of them.
Rich.
Varied.
Excessive.
---
Meera looked at the food.
Then at Aarav.
---
He hadn’t started eating yet.
---
“Are we waiting for someone?” she asked cautiously.
---
Aarav picked up his fork.
“No.”
---
And began eating.
---
That was the signal.
---
Meera followed, though her appetite was nonexistent.
---
Minutes passed.
Quiet.
Controlled.
Heavy.
---
Until—
“Did you sleep?”
---
The question came without warning.
---
Meera looked up.
Slightly surprised.
---
“Not really.”
---
Aarav nodded once.
As if that was expected.
---
“Good,” he said.
---
The word hit differently.
---
Meera’s brows furrowed.
“Good?”
---
Aarav finally looked at her.
---
“Sleep makes people comfortable,” he said calmly.
“And comfort makes them forget.”
---
Meera’s grip tightened on her spoon.
“Forget what?”
---
Aarav leaned back slightly.
Studying her again.
That same unreadable gaze.
---
“The truth.”
---
The word lingered.
---
Meera’s heartbeat picked up.
---
“Then tell me,” she said, her voice steady despite everything inside her. “What truth are you talking about?”
---
Aarav didn’t answer immediately.
He let the silence stretch again.
---
Then—
He reached into his pocket.
---
And placed something on the table.
---
A photograph.
---
Meera’s breath caught.
---
She stared at it.
---
Two people.
Standing close.
Captured in a moment that looked… real.
---
One of them—
Was her.
---
The other—
She didn’t recognize.
---
Her fingers moved slowly, almost hesitantly, as she picked up the photo.
---
Her heart began to race.
---
“I… I don’t remember this,” she whispered.
---
Aarav’s gaze hardened.
---
“That’s the problem.”
---
Meera looked up at him, confusion spilling over now.
“I don’t know who this is.”
---
Aarav leaned forward slightly.
His voice lower.
Sharper.
---
“You should.”
---
The room felt smaller suddenly.
The air heavier.
---
Meera shook her head.
“No… I’ve never—”
---
“Don’t lie.”
---
The interruption was immediate.
Firm.
---
Meera froze.
---
“I’m not lying,” she said, her voice trembling now. “I genuinely don’t remember.”
---
Aarav’s jaw tightened.
Something flickered again.
Anger.
Frustration.
Or something deeper.
---
“Convenient,” he muttered.
---
Meera looked back at the photo.
Her own face stared back at her.
Smiling.
Happy.
Connected to someone she couldn’t place.
---
And then—
For a split second—
Something flashed in her mind.
---
A sound.
Laughter.
A voice.
---
“Meera…”
---
Her grip tightened on the photo.
Her breathing changed.
---
Aarav noticed instantly.
---
“What is it?” he asked, his tone sharper now.
---
Meera blinked.
The moment vanished.
---
“I… I don’t know.”
---
But that wasn’t entirely true.
---
Because something had stirred.
Something small.
But real.
---
A c***k.
---
Aarav stood up suddenly.
The chair scraping slightly against the floor.
---
“We’ll continue this later,” he said.
---
Meera looked up at him, confused again.
“Continue what?”
---
Aarav adjusted his sleeve.
---
“This.”
He gestured toward her.
Toward the photo.
Toward everything.
---
“Because whether you remember or not…”
A pause.
---
“You’re going to.”
---
He turned.
Walking away without another word.
---
Meera remained seated.
The photograph still in her hands.
---
Her heart refused to slow down.
---
Because for the first time—
This wasn’t just about Aarav’s anger.
---
This wasn’t just about revenge.
---
This was about something inside her.
Something missing.
Something hidden.
---
And now—
It was starting to surface.
---
She looked down at the photo again.
Her own smile stared back at her.
Unfamiliar.
Almost like it belonged to someone else.
---
And for the first time—
A new fear took shape.
---
What if he’s right?
---
What if I really did forget something…
Important?
---
Something dangerous?
---
Her fingers tightened around the photo.
---
Because deep down—
She knew one thing.
---
Memories don’t disappear without a reason.
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And whatever hers was hiding…
---
It was about to change everything.
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[END OF EPISODE 3]
- Writer
