The Crossing Lines

The meetings with Swapnika became more frequent as the days passed. We'd catch up over coffee, sometimes with the kids, sometimes just the two of us. I was careful, though, not wanting to send the wrong message, especially to Swapna. At the same time, I knew I needed to meet her husband, Srikanth, to understand the full scope of what was happening. But every attempt to meet him was met with the same frustrating response: he was out of the country on business.

Despite the challenges, I noticed that Swapnika seemed happier when we spent time together. There was a noticeable change in her, a sense of relief, even if just for a few moments. I introduced her son, Karthik, to Swapna, and the two became fast friends. Their laughter was a welcome sound, providing a brief respite from the tension that had been building.

One evening, I received a call from Swapnika. Her voice was shaky, and I could sense the urgency. "Arjun, can you come over? It's urgent."

I didn't hesitate. "I'll be there soon," I replied, grabbing my keys and heading out the door.

When I arrived at her parents' house, I could immediately tell something was wrong. The house was in disarray—furniture overturned, broken glass on the floor. Swapnika was standing in the living room, clearly shaken.

"He came back," she said quietly, her voice filled with anxiety. "Srikanth came back this morning."

I looked around, taking in the scene. "Did he do all this?"

She nodded, her eyes tired and red. "He was angry, Arjun. I don't even know what set him off. He just... lost control. My parents took Karthik to calm him down."

"Where is he now?" I asked, trying to stay composed.

"He left, but he's still in the city," she replied. "I don't know what to do."

I could feel my frustration building, but I knew I had to keep it in check. "We need to handle this carefully. I need to meet him, Swapnika. I need to talk to him."

She looked at me, uncertain. "Do you think that will help?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I have to try. We can't let this continue."

She sighed, looking away. "I'm just scared, Arjun."

"I understand," I said, trying to reassure her. "We'll figure this out. But first, let's make sure you and Karthik are safe."

As I stood there, taking in the damage Srikanth had caused, I felt the familiar rise of anger—the beast inside me, eager to take control, to end this problem once and for all. For a brief moment, I wanted nothing more than to close him off, to remove him from Swapnika's life permanently. I knew I had the means to do it; I could have ended this the moment I learned about her situation.

But then I looked at Swapnika, standing there, vulnerable and scared, and I forced myself to push those thoughts aside. This wasn't about quick fixes. She had been the one to teach me patience, back in those early days when I was still learning how to navigate the complexities of life. I didn't want to solve this problem the way I had handled others before. Not with her involved.

I took a deep breath, forcing the beast back down. This situation needed a different approach—one that involved care, thought, and respect for the person who had once meant so much to me.

With the help of one of the IT techs in my company, I managed to track down Srikanth's location. It wasn't easy, but by the time I had his whereabouts, it was already night. I realized with a start that I hadn't picked up Swapna from school. I quickly made my way home, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on me.

When I walked through the door, Swapna was waiting for me. She looked up at me, her eyes full of concern. "Why didn't you come to pick me up from school?" she asked, her tone gentle but probing.

I didn't want to disclose everything to her, so I kept it simple. "I was busy," I said, trying to sound casual. "That's why I sent the driver."

She didn't seem convinced. She stared at me for a moment longer, her gaze intense. "So, you're keeping things from me now?"

I was taken aback by her insight. Was she reading my mind? "It's not that, Swapna," I began, but she cut me off.

"Then tell me," she insisted, her voice steady and firm.

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to burden her with everything, but I knew I couldn't hide the truth from her. "Swapna," I began, "there's something I need to tell you. Swapnika is going through a really tough time. Her husband, Srikanth... he's been causing a lot of problems, and it's gotten worse."

She listened intently, her eyes never leaving mine. "What kind of problems?" she asked.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "He's been violent, with her and even with their son. It's... it's bad, Swapna. I've been trying to figure out what to do, and today, I managed to track him down with the help of someone from work. But I had to prioritize that, so I couldn't pick you up from school. I'm sorry."

She listened quietly, then, with a determined look in her eyes, she said, "Why are you wasting so much time? We can eliminate him in seconds."

"No," I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument. "I don't want to go down that path. I want to give him a chance, to understand his reasons."

Swapna looked at me, clearly unhappy with my decision. "Then I'll come with you."

"It's not safe, Swapna," I replied, "Srikanth is violent, and he might do anything. This is something I need to handle on my own. Please, stay out of it."

But she didn't accept my answer. "That's exactly why I want to come with you, Dad. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I can take care of myself, and that's the end of the discussion."

Swapna didn't say anything in response. Instead, she looked at me with a mix of frustration and concern before turning on her heel and heading straight to her room. I could tell she was upset, but I didn't want to drag her into this.

The next morning, I went to the lodge where Srikanth was staying. When I found his room, I knocked on the door, and he answered, looking disheveled and irritated.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his tone hostile.

"I'm a friend of Swapnika's," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I want to talk to you."

At the mention of her name, his face twisted into a sneer. He muttered some cuss words about her under his breath, and I felt my blood start to boil.

"What's the issue between you two?" I asked, trying to keep things formal, though it was getting harder by the second.

He just shrugged, not interested in explaining anything. It was clear he didn't care about fixing things.

Realizing this approach wasn't working, I decided to try something else. "Look," I said, "I can make you an offer. A job, a house, and some cash. You can start over, away from all this."

But instead of calming him down, my offer seemed to have the opposite effect. His face contorted with fury. "Why do you want to do all this?" he spat, his voice rising. Then, with venom in his tone, he called Swapnika a bitch.

That was the last straw. I saw red and, without thinking, I punched him square in the face. He stumbled back, falling to the ground, blood streaming from his nose. I quickly pulled him to his feet, glaring at him. "Don't you ever say that again," I growled, my voice low and dangerous.

A scuffle ensued as he tried to fight back, but it was clear he wasn't in any condition to match me. After a few moments, he managed to break free and ran towards the door, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll show her hell! You just wait!"

I stood there, breathing heavily, fists still clenched, watching as he disappeared down the hallway. I knew this wasn't over—not by a long shot.

When I reached my car parked in front of the lodge, I was surprised to see Swapna standing there, waiting for me. I quickly approached her, a mix of concern and frustration in my voice. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't answer my question directly. Instead, she looked at me with a calm determination. "So, what do you want to do now?"

We both got into the car, the tension still hanging in the air. I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "He's crossed the line, Swapna. He has to die, but not today. Everyone here saw our fight, so it can't happen immediately. He needs to be dealt with after two days, and he can't go near Swapnika during that time."

She listened quietly, then with a steady gaze, she simply said, "Done." Her response was calm, almost too calm, but I could see the resolve in her eyes. She understood what needed to be done, and as much as I hated the situation, I knew she was right.

*****

Two days later, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. It was Swapnika. Her voice was trembling, laced with tears. "Arjun, Srikanth is dead," she said, her words almost a whisper. "The police said he got into a fight with drug dealers... they're investigating. They'll release the body this afternoon after they complete the formalities."

She was crying throughout the call, and I couldn't quite understand why. Srikanth was good for nothing, a man who had brought nothing but pain into her life. Why would she care about him now?

Despite my confusion, I went to her parents' house to help with the necessary arrangements. The formalities, the paperwork, the discussions with the authorities—it all blurred together as I moved through the motions. Swapnika was inconsolable, her grief apparent in every word and gesture.

After everything was done, we didn't see each other for over a month. I wanted to give her space to mourn, even if I couldn't fully comprehend why she was grieving. Meanwhile, I threw myself into work, burying my thoughts in the day-to-day running of the company, trying to distract myself from the strange mix of emotions swirling within me.

Then, I received an unexpected call from Swapnika's father. He sounded worried, a tone I wasn't used to hearing from him.

"Arjun," he began, "I think she needs a change. Swapnika has been crying all day, every day. She won't leave the house. I didn't know who else to call. Maybe you could take her out for a while, just to get her out of the house?"

It wasn't something I had anticipated, but I couldn't refuse. The next day, I took her out for coffee. At first, she was quiet, her eyes still red and puffy from days of crying, but gradually, she began to open up, if only a little. I made it a habit to check on her every day, making sure she was at least stepping out of the house and engaging with the world, even if just a bit.

Over time, our meetings became more frequent, and I made sure to include Swapna whenever possible. The three of us spent time together, and I even arranged for her son, Karthik, to join Swapna's school. It was a small gesture, but it seemed to help her, knowing that her son was in a safe and supportive environment.

One day, as we sat together after dropping the kids off at school, I looked at her and saw someone who was slowly regaining her strength, but who still needed a purpose, something to focus on besides her grief.

"Swapnika," I began, "I've been thinking... I could really use some help at the company. Someone I can trust completely. I know it might be a lot to ask, but would you consider working with me?"

She looked at me, surprised, and for the first time in weeks, I saw a spark of life in her eyes. "You... you want me to work with you?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "I need someone I can trust, someone who understands what's important. You'd be helping me a lot, and maybe... maybe it could help you too."

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. I think I'd like that."

It was the first step toward a new chapter for her, and I was relieved to see her taking it.

Days turned into weeks, and soon enough, we had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Swapnika became an integral part of my business, taking on responsibilities and proving herself to be invaluable. Her involvement brought a fresh perspective, and it wasn't long before we were attending events and parties together, rubbing shoulders with the city's elite.

At first, she hesitated, unsure about stepping into such a public role. But with a bit of persuasion, she agreed. I noticed how quickly she adapted, her confidence growing with each event. People began to notice us together, and it wasn't long before whispers started circulating. Many assumed we were a couple, and I have to admit, I liked the way it sounded.

I could see it in her too. At one party, someone jokingly referred to her as "Mrs. Arjun," and I caught the blush that crept up her cheeks, visible even from across the room. It was a small moment, but it signaled a shift in our relationship. The distance that had once defined us was slowly disappearing.

Then, one evening, as I was dropping her off at her house, something changed. We sat in the car for a moment, neither of us speaking, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had grown between us. I don't know what came over me, but as she turned to say goodnight, I leaned in and kissed her.

It was brief, just a moment, but it felt like the culmination of everything that had been building between us. When I pulled back, I saw the surprise in her eyes, and went inside without a word.

The next morning, I arranged to meet Swapnika for coffee. It was a quiet Sunday, and the usual rush of the week seemed to fade into the background as we sat across from each other in a cozy corner of the café. The conversation flowed easily at first, touching on light topics, but I knew there was something more important we needed to discuss.

I took a deep breath, deciding it was time to bring up what had been on my mind since the previous night. "Swapnika," I began, my tone serious yet gentle, "I've been thinking... What do you think about the idea of us getting married?"

She looked at me, clearly taken aback by the question. Her eyes welled up with a mix of emotions—uncertainty, fear, and something else I couldn't quite place. She began, her voice trembling slightly, "I... I don't know. This is so hard for me. Part of me has always wondered... wondered if we would have been happier if we had married earlier, if things had been different. But every time those thoughts creep in, I push them away, telling myself it's too late, that it's not the right thing to do. And then there's this fear... What will people think of us? What will they say?"

She paused, her eyes searching mine for some kind of reassurance, her voice heavy with the weight of her doubts and insecurities. "I've spent so long trying to convince myself that it's better this way, that I should just accept what life has become. But now... now I'm not so sure."

I leaned in slightly, my gaze meeting hers with steady resolve. "I'm not asking about what others think, Swapnika. I'm asking about you—what do you want? If you're okay with it, I'll talk to your father. But this time, I won't back down."

She hesitated, her thoughts clearly conflicted. But as she considered my words, a small, tentative smile appeared on her face. "Okay," she said softly, still unsure but willing to take a step forward.


© The Usual Guy