Following the toxic memory of last night, as the new morning arrived, a deep wound lingered within my heart. "You are temporary"—this single sentence had beat against my brain like a hammer all night long.

But I told no one. Not Arnab, not my uncle, no one. It was true that tears soaked my pillow during the night, but I woke up before dawn and washed my face with cold water in the bathroom. I concealed the redness around my eyes with kohl. Arnab woke up assuming I still had a severe headache like yesterday, and he still believes that. With all my pain hidden deep within my chest, I had no choice but to put on a smile and carry on with the familiar charade.