Chapter 39: The Silence He Couldn't Understand

The next morning, Poornima woke up before sunrise.

Her eyes felt heavy from crying through most of the night.

For a few moments, she simply sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor.

The memories of the previous night returned immediately.

"I love Janaki."

The words still hurt.

Not because Janaki existed.

But because for one brief moment, Poornima had believed she had become more than a responsibility in Veeresh's life.

She had believed she had become his love.

Slowly, she got ready for the day.

A simple saree.

Neatly tied hair.

No unnecessary attention to herself.

Just enough to leave the house.

When Veeresh woke up, he immediately noticed something.

Poornima wasn't her usual self.

She wasn't looking at him.

Wasn't smiling.

Wasn't talking.

She was simply gathering her things.

"Poons..."

She paused.

The nickname usually brought a smile to her face.

Today it didn't.

Veeresh sat up.

A faint headache from the previous night's drinking lingered.

But something else bothered him more.

The feeling that something was wrong.

He looked at her carefully.

"Did I do something wrong?"

For a moment, Poornima's fingers tightened around her bag.

She wanted to ask him.

Wanted to tell him.

Wanted to ask why he had said another woman's name while holding her.

But the words wouldn't come out.

Instead she simply replied,

"No."

A single word.

Calm.

Controlled.

Too controlled.

Then she said quietly,

"Freshen up."

And walked out of the room.

Veeresh frowned.

Something was definitely wrong.

He knew it.

But before he could stop her, she had already left.

After getting ready, Veeresh came downstairs expecting to see the usual morning routine.

The morning aarti.

Poornima waiting near the temple.

Tea.

Breakfast.

The small things that had become part of his everyday life.

But today...

The temple was empty.

The lamp had already been lit.

Yet Poornima wasn't there.

Veeresh looked around.

"Poornima?"

No answer.

He walked toward the kitchen.

The maids immediately greeted him.

"Namaste, Thakur sa."

"Where is Poornima?"

One of the maids looked surprised.

"Baisa left."

Veeresh frowned.

"Left?"

"Ji."

"She said it was urgent."

For a moment, he just stood there.

Trying to process that.

Poornima had left without waiting for him.

Without the morning aarti.

Without tea.

Without breakfast.

Without even telling him properly.

The realization felt strangely unsettling.

Every morning since she had come into his life had followed a certain rhythm.

She would wait for him.

They would pray together.

She would hand him tea.

Remind him not to skip breakfast.

Ask about his schedule.

Small things.

Simple things.

Things he had stopped noticing because they had become part of his life.

And now, suddenly, they were missing.

Veeresh walked toward the dining table.

The tea wasn't there.

His breakfast wasn't there.

The chair where she usually sat was empty.

For the first time in months, the haveli felt unfamiliar.

Quiet.

Cold.

Wrong.

One of the maids cautiously placed a cup of tea before him.

But Veeresh didn't touch it.

His mind kept returning to the same question.

What happened?

He replayed yesterday in his head.

The drive home.

Their conversation.

Dinner.

Then the reunion.

After that...

Nothing.

His memories became blurred.

Pieces of the night appeared and disappeared.

He remembered Poornima helping him upstairs.

He remembered her being beside him.

And then...

Nothing.

A strange uneasiness settled inside him.

The kind that wouldn't leave.

Because Veeresh knew Poornima.

She wasn't someone who withdrew without reason.

She wasn't someone who left without saying anything.

And she definitely wasn't someone who skipped the morning aarti.

Not anymore.

He looked toward the staircase.

Half expecting her to appear.

Half expecting everything to return to normal.

But she didn't.

And for the first time since their marriage, Veeresh felt a small knot of worry tighten inside his chest.

Because whatever had happened...

It mattered.

And somehow, without understanding why, he had a feeling that he was the reason.