THE CONTRACT

It was 5:30 p.m. - unusually early for me. As I unlocked the front door, I half expected to find Radhika in the living room with my sister or brother - probably curled up on the couch, laughing at her favorite cartoon or movie, just like she always did on her day off. But the house was too quiet. No laughter. No chatter. Not even the clinking sounds of workers moving around. A strange unease crawled up my chest, cold and tight. The first thought that hit me was - Radhika. She was supposed to be home today. She had taken leave from her work. Still, trying to brush off the rising dread, I walked toward our room. But it was empty. Her side of the bed - untouched. Her dupatta - missing from the chair where she always left it. Something felt terribly wrong. I searched the entire house, calling her name again and again. Nothing. No trace of her. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. "The number you are calling is not reachable at this moment. Please try again later." Once. Twice. Ten times. The same message. By the time I walked back to our room, my heartbeat was pounding in my ears. I loosened my tie, gasping for air that suddenly felt too heavy to breathe. And then-my eyes landed on an envelope placed neatly on the nightstand. My chest tightened. With trembling fingers, I tore it open. And the next second - my world fell apart. Inside were divorce papers. Her signature already inked at the bottom. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. It was as if someone had driven a knife straight through my chest - twisting, pulling, and stabbing again. The pain wasn't physical; it was something deeper, something that burned through my soul. My throat constricted, my eyes stung. And then I noticed a folded letter tucked inside. I'll start publishing the story from 2026 Stay tuned