The Red Dress
Two days ago was my birthday.
My husband — Arjun Sharma — sent me a quick “Happy Birthday” message before leaving for work.
No flowers. No gift. No dinner.
I told myself, “He must be busy. Let it go.”
But this afternoon, when I returned to our apartment in Andheri, there was a large box on the couch. Inside lay a stunning red dress.
Before I could ask anything, Arjun smiled and said:
“Oh, this dress is for Priya, my sister-in-law. Her birthday is tomorrow.”
I froze.
Priya — the wife of Rohan, Arjun’s younger brother.
He remembered her birthday every year without fail, yet somehow forgot mine.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. The image of that red dress wouldn’t leave my mind.
Something felt wrong — deeply wrong.
The Discovery
The first clue was the receipt.
It was dated last week — two days before my birthday.
My hands trembling, I checked Arjun’s phone. Hidden in WhatsApp messages were these words:
Arjun: “This dress will look great on you. Try it on tomorrow.”
Priya: “I’m afraid someone might see us…”
Arjun: “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
My breath caught in my throat. I decided to follow him.
Caught in the Act
The most important part is just ahead — click NEXT »»
