The Awakening

The following morning, I awoke with the weight of my unpleasant situation pressing heavily on my chest. I sat up in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with possibilities. I felt the familiar anxiety knotting my stomach as I replayed my conversation with Singhania in my head. His ultimatum lingered like a dark cloud, reminding me that my days of careful manipulation were coming to an end.

"What if I just walked away from it all?" I thought, allowing myself a moment of fantasy where I could abandon my empire and start anew somewhere else. But that idea dissolved quickly, as I knew too well that such a clean break was impossible.

"What if I confess?" The thought of public humiliation and legal repercussions was terrifying, but was it any worse than living in fear of exposure every day? My hands clenched the sheets as I pondered my options. Confessing would bring ruin, yet trying to maintain the facade felt equally damning.

My mind drifted to Swapna. How would she see me if the truth came out? Would she ever forgive me? Her admiration had always been a source of pride, and the idea of losing it gnawed at my insides.

Later that day, I decided to visit my lawyer, Rajat, to seek advice on handling the situation with Mr. Singhania. When I entered, the receptionist greeted me with a familiar smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Arjun. How can I assist you today?" she asked.

"I'm here to see Mr. Rajat," I replied, keeping my tone casual. "It's urgent."

She nodded and made the call. "Please have a seat, Mr. Arjun. He'll see you shortly."

I settled into one of the plush chairs in the waiting area, trying to calm the turmoil within me. Soon, Rajat's assistant led me into his office. The room was spacious and elegantly furnished, with large windows offering a view of the bustling city below.

"Arjun, it's been too long," Rajat greeted me warmly, rising from his desk to shake my hand. "What brings you in today?"

I took a deep breath, deciding to present the situation as a hypothetical scenario. "Rajat, I need your opinion on a matter involving a friend of mine," I began, choosing my words carefully. "He's in a bit of a bind and could use some expert legal advice."

I hesitated, then continued. "This friend of mine is facing some serious allegations. The authorities have a lot of information on him regarding financial transactions. He is considering fighting the case but unsure if it's worth it."

Rajat listened intently, nodding as he absorbed the details. "And your friend believes he has a chance to win this case?"

"Yes, but he wants to know what his chances are," I replied, carefully avoiding any details that could link the situation to myself. "Is it possible to win, given the weight of evidence against them?"

Rajat paused, considering his response. He was a man known for his honesty and integrity, traits that had earned him a stellar reputation in the legal community. "Arjun, if your friend wants to fight the case, I must tell you that there's no guarantee of winning," he said frankly. "The evidence sounds substantial, and it would be a tough battle in court."

I nodded, feeling a mix of disappointment and respect for his honesty. Rajat had never sugarcoated anything, which is why I valued his advice. "So, what would you suggest?"

Rajat leaned forward, his voice calm and measured. "My suggestion is to reason with the officer. Try to negotiate and see if there's a way to settle things outside of court. Sometimes, it's better to resolve matters quietly rather than risking everything on a courtroom gamble."

His advice was reasonable, and it made sense coming from him. Rajat had always guided me toward the most sensible decisions, and I had followed his counsel time and again because of his unwavering honesty. But I knew something Rajat didn't. Mr. Singhania wasn't like other officers. He was strict and by-the-book. If he were after money, he could have easily asked for a bribe during our meeting, but he didn't. This wasn't about financial gain for him; it was about accountability and justice.

I thanked Rajat for his counsel, appreciating his professional perspective, but knowing in my gut that negotiation might not be an option this time.

"Thanks, Rajat," I said, standing up and shaking his hand. "I'll think over what you've said and pass it on to my friend."

Rajat nodded, offering a reassuring smile. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do to help. And remember, we're always here for you."

I sat in my office, my mind racing with plans and counterplans. I went over each scenario, each possible move I could make. But no matter how many times I analyzed it, every plan ended the same way: humiliation, public disgrace, and being exposed as guilty. The thought of standing in front of everyone, stripped of the reputation I had spent years building, was too much to bear.

I couldn't face that. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing the disappointment in Swapna's eyes, knowing that the man she called "Dad" was nothing but a fraud. I had worked too hard, sacrificed too much to see it all come crashing down.

The idea of taking my own life started creeping into my thoughts. At first, it was just a fleeting notion, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the only way out. If I was gone, I wouldn't have to face the consequences. I wouldn't have to watch everything I'd built be destroyed.

But then there was Swapna. She was the only light in my life, the one person I couldn't leave behind without making sure she was taken care of. I couldn't bear the thought of her being alone, lost without someone to guide her.

My mind immediately went to my aunt. She was the only person I could trust, the only person who could look after Swapna if I wasn't there. Over the past three years, I had shared some details about Swapna with her, and I knew she had the strength and love to care for her.

I picked up the phone and called my aunt. As the phone rang, I tried to keep my voice steady, to sound as normal as possible. When she answered, I didn't waste time. "Aunt, I need a favor. Can you take care of Swapna for two months? There are some problems in the business, and I need to focus on resolving them. I don't want her to be affected by any of this."

There was a brief silence on the other end. I could tell she was concerned, but she didn't push too hard. "Arjun, is there anything I need to know?"

Her question hit me harder than I expected. I knew she could sense something was wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. "No, nothing serious," I lied, forcing a smile that I hoped came through in my voice. "Just some business issues that need my full attention. I'll sort it out. I just need you to take care of Swapna for a while."

She didn't press further, respecting my boundaries. "Alright, I'll be there next week. But Arjun, if there's anything you need to tell me, I'm here."

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft, betraying the storm inside me. "I really appreciate it."

After hanging up the phone, I felt a strange mix of relief and guilt. I had secured Swapna's future, at least for a little while. But now, I had to deal with the rest.

I dialed Rahul Singhania next. His voice was as stern as ever when he picked up. "Mr. Singhania," I began, keeping my voice steady, "I'm calling to request an extension. I need another week."

There was a brief pause, and I could sense his suspicion. "Another week?" he repeated, his tone neutral but edged with caution.

"Yes," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I have some personal matters I need to attend to, and I want to make sure everything is in order before I deal with this situation. After that, I'll be ready to face whatever comes."

Singhania was silent for a moment, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. I knew he wasn't a man to be easily swayed, and I had to tread lightly.

"I'll give you one more week," he finally said, his voice carrying a warning. "But let me be clear, Arjun—don't think about making any smart moves. I'll be watching."

"Understood," I replied, keeping my tone even. I hung up the phone, the finality of the conversation sinking in.

As I sat back in my chair, I realized that the decision I had made was final. There was no turning back. The only thing left to do was to make sure that when the time came, I could leave this world knowing that I had done everything I could for Swapna. That was all that mattered now.

With a week's time secured, I knew exactly how I wanted to spend it—with Swapna. I went to her school the next day and signed her out, explaining to the administration that we were taking a spontaneous trip. They didn't question it; after all, I was her guardian, and no one suspected the storm brewing in my life.

I decided that the next ten days would be about creating memories—memories that would last Swapna a lifetime, even if I wouldn't be around to share them with her. We set off on a whirlwind trip, visiting amusement parks, water rides, and every place I knew she would love. I wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh, and give her the joy she deserved, even if it was just for a short while.

I spared no expense. By the end of our trip, I had spent nearly Rs. 4.20 crores. It was the highest amount I had ever spent in such a short period, but none of it mattered to me. The only thing that mattered was seeing Swapna happy, knowing that I had given her everything I could in the time I had left. Swapna was ecstatic, her eyes lighting up with each new experience. She had no idea what was coming, and I couldn't bring myself to let the reality of my situation tarnish these precious days.

On the last day of the trip, I took a quiet moment alone, away from Swapna, to finalize my plans. I had opened an offshore account in Swapna's name, with my aunt listed as her guardian. Through my sources, I transferred Rs. 80 crores into the account. It was everything I could give her, ensuring that she would be financially secure, no matter what happened to me.

As the due date drew to a close, I knew the time had come to tell her. We were sitting by the water's edge, watching the sunset, the sky awash with brilliant hues of orange and pink. Swapna was still buzzing with excitement from the day's adventures, her face glowing with happiness.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I had to say. "Swapna," I began, my voice gentle, "there's something I need to tell you."

She turned to me, her eyes wide and innocent, completely unaware of the weight behind my words. "What is it, Dad?"

"You're going to go on a new adventure soon," I said, choosing my words carefully. "You're going to visit Auntie in Australia."

"Really? When?"

"In a few days," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. "You'll stay with her for a couple of months. It'll be a fun trip, and you'll get to see a lot of new places."

"But what about you? Aren't you coming with me?" she asked, her excitement faltering.

I forced a smile, pushing down the lump in my throat. "I can't come right now, sweetheart. I have to take care of some things here. But I'll join you later, okay?"

She nodded, though I could see the disappointment in her eyes. "Okay, Dad. But you promise you'll come soon?"

"I promise," I said, even though I knew it was a promise I couldn't keep.

The weight of my decision to send Swapna away was crushing me from the inside. The thought of her leaving, of not being there to see her grow up, was too much to bear. I needed something—anything—to numb the pain.

I reached for a bottle of wine, one that I had been saving for a special occasion, though this was far from one. As I poured myself a glass, I felt the alcohol slide down my throat, its warmth spreading through my chest. But the warmth was fleeting, and I found myself pouring another glass, then another. The room started to blur, the edges of my thoughts becoming fuzzy as the alcohol took hold. I knew I was drinking too much, but I didn't care. I couldn't face the reality of what I was doing, of the decision I had made.

I don't remember when Swapna came home. All I know is that at some point, the world tilted, and I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up late—10:00 AM, the clock read. My head was pounding, the remnants of my headache pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I groaned, sitting up slowly as the room spun around me. My mouth was dry, and a dull ache had settled behind my eyes.

Panic seized me as I realized how late it was. I stumbled out of bed and rushed to Swapna's room, my heart racing. But when I opened the door, the room was empty. The neatly made bed and the absence of her belongings hit me like a punch to the gut.

I quickly grabbed my phone, dialing the school's number with shaking hands. Each ring felt like an eternity until finally, someone answered.

"This is Arjun," I said, my voice rough. "Is Swapna there? Did she make it to school?"

"Yes, Mr. Arjun, she's here," the receptionist replied, "She arrived on time and is currently in class."

Relief flooded through me, and I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. At least she was safe, at least she had made it to school. But the thought that she might have seen me in that state made my stomach turn.

Before I could dwell on it, the doorbell rang. My head was still pounding, and every sound felt like it was magnified tenfold. I walked unsteadily to the door, my mind still foggy from the night before.

I opened the door, expecting it to be a delivery or perhaps someone from the neighboring houses. Instead, I was met with the sight of two police officers standing in front of me. The sight of their uniforms sent a jolt of fear through my already fragile state.

"Mr. Arjun?" one of the officers asked, his tone serious.

"Yes," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The headache was now the least of my worries as a cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach. "What's this about?"

"We need to ask you a few questions," the officer said, his eyes scanning me with a look that sent shivers down my spine.

I stepped aside to let them in, my mind racing with a thousand possibilities, none of them good. The alcohol from the night before still clouded my thoughts, and I struggled to piece together what might have led to this visit.

I tried to clear my head, thinking back to Mr. Singhania. Could he have leaked the information before the time he had given me? No, I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Singhania was strict, but he was sincere. If he said I had a week, then I had a week. He wouldn't have gone back on his word—at least, that's what I tried to convince myself.

One of the officers broke the silence, his tone measured. "Mr. Arjun, where were you last night?"

The question caught me off guard, and I scrambled to find the right words. "I... I was at home," I stammered. "I was drinking. I... I don't usually drink, but last night..." My words were a jumbled mess, but I could see from the officers' expressions that they already knew.

The smell of alcohol still lingered in the air, and I knew they could see the signs—the empty wine bottle on the table, the disheveled state of the house. My attempt at hiding my vulnerability had failed miserably.

I tried to compose myself, but the words came out weak and uncertain. "May I... may I know why you're here?"

The officer exchanged a glance with his partner before turning back to me. "Why did you call Mr. Singhania last night?"

His question hit me like a punch to the gut. I blinked in confusion. "Call him? I don't... I don't remember calling him."

My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone, frantically scrolling through the call log. Sure enough, there it was—a call to Mr. Singhania, made late last night. It was only about 30 seconds long, but the fact that it had happened at all sent my mind reeling.

"It must have been a wrong dial," I said quickly, my voice shaking. "I was drunk. This was the first time I drank like that. I... I don't remember making the call. It was an accident, I swear."

The officers listened, their expressions unreadable, but I could tell they weren't fully convinced. They weren't here just because of a misdial. Something else had happened.

One of the officers, the more senior of the two, stepped closer, his voice calm but probing. "Can you tell us about your meetings with Mr. Singhania? What were they about?"

My patience, already at the edge and snapped. "Why are you asking me all these questions?" I demanded, my heart pounding in my chest. "What's going on?"

The room seemed to grow colder as the officer delivered the news. "Mr. Singhania died last night, Mr. Arjun. He slipped from the second floor of his house. We're investigating whether this was truly an accident, given his position as a high-ranking official."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, I couldn't process what I was hearing. Singhania was dead? The man who had held my fate in his hands, the man who had given me a week to put my affairs in order, was gone?

I stared at the officer, my mind struggling to catch up. "He... he's dead?" I repeated, the words tasting foreign and bitter in my mouth.

"Yes," the officer confirmed, his eyes fixed on me, watching every flicker of emotion on my face. "We're just trying to understand the circumstances surrounding his death."

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as the implications began to sink in. My call to Singhania, my drunken state, the unanswered questions—all of it swirled together in a maelstrom of confusion and fear.

But above all, one thought loomed larger than the rest: What did this mean for me?

"I met with Mr. Singhania about my business," I began, keeping my voice steady. "He was retiring soon, and he was curious about how my business was doing. He mentioned that he wanted to set up his own business after retirement, so we discussed some general ideas. That's all."

I could feel the sweat forming on my brow, but I did my best to maintain composure. I couldn't afford to slip up, not now. The senior officer nodded slowly, his gaze still locked on me. "I see. We're just following up because yours was the last call Mr. Singhania received before his accident. If we need anything further, we'll be in touch."

Relief washed over me, but it was tinged with a deep sense of terror. The police weren't pressing further, but that didn't mean I was in the clear. "Thank you, officers," I managed to say. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me."

With that, they left, leaving me standing alone in my living room, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. I was overjoyed that the situation hadn't escalated, but at the same time, the terror of what could still happen gripped me tightly.

The moment they were gone, I rushed to the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping the cold water would wash away the fear that clung to me. My mind was racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. I had to know more. I had to understand how much of a threat this situation still posed to me.

After getting dressed, I turned on the TV, flipping through channels until I found the news. The death of Mr. Singhania was all over the headlines. Reporters speculated about whether it was an accident or something more sinister, but there were no concrete details. My heart pounded as I watched, every word they said feeling like a noose tightening around my neck.

I couldn't just sit there. I had to go to Mr. Singhania's house, see if there was any indication that the investigation might lead back to me. The drive to his house was a blur. When I arrived, the place was swarming with police and reporters. I kept my distance, blending in with the crowd as I observed the scene. The officers moved with a grim efficiency, but I couldn't tell if they were just handling a routine investigation or if there was something more behind their actions.

I stayed for only a short while, just long enough to gather that the investigation was still ongoing, but I didn't learn anything that eased my fears. As I left, I couldn't shake the feeling that every eye was on me, that every person there somehow knew more than they were letting on.

When I returned home, Swapna was already back from school, her face bright with happiness. The sight of her was a brief balm to my frayed nerves, but the joy quickly faded as I remembered what she might have witnessed my drinking the night before.

I tried to mask my fear, to put on a calm face for her, but it was no use. Swapna was perceptive, more so than I often gave her credit for. She looked at me closely, her brow furrowing as she noticed the tension in my expression.

"Dad, why are you still like this?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "The officer is dead. There won't be any issues now. You can relax."

Her words hit me like a freight train. My mind struggled to process what she had just said. How did she know? How could she possibly be so certain?

"Swapna," I began, my voice trembling, "how do you know...?"

© The Usual Guy