The man on the other end of the phone continued talking, unaware of what was happening.
“So we’re still going photo hunting, right? I’ve been waiting for you.”
The baritone voice rang out again. Kabir’s gaze grew sharper. Kharisma grew increasingly flustered, as if she had lost her voice, unable to answer or stop the man from talking.
“Hi, sweetheart! Hello. You’re still there, right? So, are we meeting or not? We’ve already arrived at the place. Hello, Kharis?”
Kharisma glanced at Kabir, who was still standing in front of her. Her face grew even more tense.
“Yes... yes, we are. I’ll... I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Okay, we’ll wait for you, sweetheart. Bye, see you.”
The call ended.
For several seconds, the room fell silent.
Kabir could no longer hide the look in his eyes. His sharp gaze was fixed directly on Kharisma. The anger and disappointment there were unmistakable.
His brow furrowed when he heard the word the man had repeated several times.
Sweetheart.
Of course his chest burned at hearing another man call his wife sweetheart. Kabir slowly folded his arms across his chest.
His gaze seemed to demand an explanation. Kharisma stared at her husband with a pale face. The hand holding her phone began to tremble.
She knew that this time, no matter what excuse came out of her mouth, he might not believe it easily.
Kabir raised his chin slightly. “Explain,” he said coldly.
“He’s Mohan. He’s my friend,” Sasti said haltingly.
“Friend?” Kabir said sarcastically. “You call that an ordinary friendship? He calls you ‘sweetheart’?”
Kharisma looked away.
“We’re really just friends, Babe.”
“What kind of friends call each other sweetheart?”
“Honestly, Babe. We’re just friends.”
“A man and a woman are friends like that?” Kabir shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t believe you! Give me your phone. I’ll call your ‘sweetheart friend’ back.”
“Babe, what are you doing?” Kharisma was beginning to get annoyed. “Don’t embarrass me, Babe! It’s normal for us to call each other sweetheart even though we’re just friends.”
“What?” Kabir stared at her in disbelief. “You’re saying that’s normal?”
Kharisma fell silent.
“Then what’s the difference?” Kabir continued. “What’s the difference between what you call your male friend and what you call your husband?”
“You wouldn’t understand, Babe,” Kharisma shot back sharply. “You never socialize.”
Kabir’s jaw tightened. “So you think I’m stupid?”
Kharisma didn’t answer.
“What’s gotten into you, Kharis?” Kabir asked, his voice beginning to tremble as he held back his emotions.
Kabir reached out again and grabbed the phone still in Kharisma’s hand.
“Babe!” Kharisma instinctively pulled her hand away.
“Give it to me!”
“What is wrong with you?” Kharisma finally exploded. “Why do you always control me? Why are you always pressuring me? I’m tired, Babe. I’m really tired!”
Kabir’s hand slowly clenched at his side.
His chest rumbled. The anger he had been holding back felt ready to explode. For a moment, he felt the urge to take his emotions out on anything in front of him. But Kabir restrained himself with all his strength.
Kharisma was his wife.
The woman he had once loved so deeply, cherished, and protected with all his heart. The petite woman who had once always been by his side.
But lately, Kharisma had changed.
Her behavior was becoming harder and harder to understand. She argued more often. Now, it was as if she no longer cared about the boundaries that should exist in a marriage.
Kabir let out a harsh breath. His gaze remained fixed on Kharisma.
“You’re really testing my patience, Kharis.”
Kharisma fell silent.
“Go to the bedroom.”
“Babe...”
“Now!” Kabir shouted.
Kharisma flinched.
Kabir pointed toward the bedroom, his jaw clenched. “Right now!”
“No! I’m leaving!”
“Oh, so you’re still going to meet your ‘sweetheart friend,’ huh? Are you cheating on me?!”