Karan came running toward the car, his luggage swinging heavily in his hands.
"Sorry, I'm a little late," he said, slightly out of breath. "Two minutes."
I looked at him-happy, smiling, completely unbothered.
How can someone apologize for just two minutes... and still look this alive? I wondered.
"You're super excited," I said.
"Yes," he replied, stretching his arms wide, like he was finally letting go of something invisible. "I'm taking a break after two years."
Two years.
Who works without a break for two years and calls it normal?
"Why?" I asked.
"Well... I had to work harder than everyone else. Our father's business wasn't doing very well back then, so it just became my habit," he said, shrugging lightly.
He said it casually-too casually.
Like exhaustion was just another routine.
That's when it hit me.
Yesterday, the media had gone mad trying to capture all three brothers. They weren't poor. They were rich, popular, admired.
But admiration like that doesn't appear out of nowhere.
Someone always pays for it, I thought.
Someone loses sleep. Someone carries more weight.
As Karan lifted both my bag and his and placed them in the car, I finally understood why his brothers never spoke back to him.
Because he had already given more than he ever asked for.
We sat in the car.
"What kind of music do you like?" he asked, starting the engine. "It's been years since I've really listened to anything."
Years.
So long without even pausing to hear yourself...
"I like Dreaming to Be Loved," I said quietly.
"Then that's what we'll listen to," he said, smiling.
The song began.
"She's crying," he said after a moment. "Why do you listen to this? Music is supposed to make you happy."
I didn't answer.
Because some songs don't make you happy, I thought.
They make you feel seen.
Before I could explain, he changed the track.
"Let me show you what I used to listen to," he said.
The new song started-Dancing with the Frogs. The lyrics were silly, the drumbeats wild, impossible to resist. Even I felt my foot move without thinking.
He laughed. "See? This is music."
He wasn't wrong.
Compared to this, my song felt heavy. Almost unbearably sad.
But as I watched him-relaxed, smiling, -I realized something.
He was trying too hard to look happy, as if he hadn't forgotten this part of himself-only misplaced it-and now, quietly, he was trying to reconnect with something that had been lost over the years.
Where was this side of him before?
Why hadn't I noticed him earlier?
When I looked back at our earlier meetings, the answer felt uncomfortably simple.
He was my first friend in that house-the one I laughed with for the first time in months. With him, the heaviness eased, if only briefly. I felt normal again.
But somewhere along the way, my view of him shifted.
I started seeing him less as that person and more as a figure of authority. Someone responsible. Someone powerful. Someone who couldn't-wouldn't-see me with his younger brother, Varun.
As I was lost in my thoughts, a notification popped up from the 'LDR Love app'.
"You are married to three brothers. You should love all of us equally-and even if you can't, you should at least try. It's the system we agreed to.
I wanted to stay connected with you. I wanted you to be available to me all the time. I wanted you to think about me... to return to the moments we shared, again and again.
But I stopped myself.
Because that would have been cruel.
It would have held you back-from loving them fully.
The version of Aayna I have seen... they deserve her too.
And they can only have her if you are completely present with them, at that moment.
So this app-this excuse to reach you-it was a mistake.
Let's uninstall it."
I stared at the screen long after the message ended.
My fingers hovered over the reply box, unmoving.
There was so much I wanted to say-so much I couldn't.
So I did nothing.
And somehow, that hurt the most.
For a moment, it felt as if I were an object-passed gently but deliberately from one brother to another,
to entertain them, one after another, both emotionally and physically.
Society decided who would have access to me first.
That familiar feeling returned-the sense of not truly belonging here, not fitting neatly into this system, no matter how carefully it was explained or agreed upon.
But I reminded myself of the promise I had made.
For three years, I would give this my best. I would try-honestly, fully, without holding back. So that when the time came, if I chose to leave, I would do so without regret.
No unanswered what ifs.
No lingering guilt.
Only the certainty that I had tried enough to let go.
As we reached the airport, I realized I hadn't even asked where we were going.
I had been so consumed by the sadness of leaving Varun behind that I momentarily forgot this system existed at all-a system where brothers loved each other more than they could ever love their wives.
How could Varun send me a message asking me to love his brothers the way I loved him?
Weren't the moments we shared special to him?
Did the thought of having me only to himself never cross his mind?
Then I looked at Karan.
And I realized-it *had* crossed his mind.
The possessiveness I had wanted from Varun was already present in Karan. I had noticed it before, but back then it felt unfair to Varun... and to Arun.
I won't lie-I had started falling in love with Varun, a little.
But now, having stepped out of his embrace, my mind was finally working the way it should have from the beginning-practically.
I don't like being shared.
I don't like being passed on.
I want my husband to feel that uneasiness-the fear of losing me, the discomfort of sharing me.
I saw that in Karan's eyes.
And for the first time, I wondered...
maybe he was the husband I had been craving all along.
I took a deep breath, pushed Varun out of my system, and turned toward Karan.
"Where are we going?" I asked, raising my voice over the noise.
He glanced at me, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"We're going to an island," he said easily,
"where I'm the king... and you'll be the queen."
The way he said it wasn't dramatic.
It was certain.
"No, seriously-where are we going?" I asked again.
"The place where I spent a lot of money a few years back," Karan said, laughing. "And I don't regret a single penny."
There was a smile on his face then-slow, dangerous. Almost demonic.
I narrowed my eyes. "Tell me, are you taking me somewhere illegal?"
"Nope," he said calmly. "Somewhere my wish is the command. Somewhere I'm the king..."
"And I'll be the queen," I finished his sentence.
His smile deepened.
"Exactly."
So it really was an island.
As I settled into the seat of the jet and looked out through the window, I saw clusters of islands below-lush, green, untouched. No humans in sight... or maybe I simply couldn't see them from up here.
Either way, it felt refreshing.
Finally away from unnecessary customs.
From unspoken boundaries.
From the constant effort of balancing feelings.
Up here, everything looked simpler. Smaller. Lighter.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt the quiet excitement of being somewhere new-
somewhere I didn't have to divide myself at all.