Chapter 236: Collapse of Marriage
Sheetal’s voice cracked as she rose to her feet. Whatever calm had remained on her face was gone, replaced by dread.
"Virat... calm down. This isn’t what you think."
"Not what I think?" His laugh was bitter. "It’s midnight. You’re in a nightclub, holding hands with a man young enough to be your brother, and I’m the one imagining things?"
"Virat, just listen—"
"No. You listen."
The words came faster now, fueled by months of resentment.
The words came fast and ugly — how ungrateful she was, how little time she’d actually given him in six months of marriage, always an all-nighter, always exhausted, always too busy for him.
Did she think he was a fool? Did she think he wouldn’t notice her holding hands with a man so much younger than her?
If he hadn’t been lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her getting all lovey-dovey with another man from afar, he might never have known. And when he came closer to check — what a surprise. Holding hands with another man, right in front of everyone, with no shame at all.
Was he that bad in bed, or had the money simply gone to her head? If he hadn’t faked the business trip, would he ever have caught her red-handed like this?
Sheetal’s face tightened.
"That’s enough."
"Enough?" Virat scoffed as he pointed to Rohit. "Maybe I should ask him. Maybe he knows what you want better than your own husband does."
The rooftop had gone still.
Even the DJ had cut the music, though no bouncer stepped in — this still read as a private matter between husband and wife, and the crowd, for now, seemed content to let it stay verbal.
But as Virat kept unspooling his grievances, the room’s sympathy started tilting his way. A few onlookers had already raised their phones, recording quietly.
Sheetal looked helplessly toward Rohit and the others.
Robin started forward.
Rohit caught his arm.
"Don’t."
Robin frowned. "But—"
"Not yet."
Rohit had seen enough confrontations like this to know what would happen. The moment another man physically entered the argument, Virat would have someone else to blame.
Priya had less patience.
She stepped forward.
"Brother-in-law, please. It really isn’t what you think. We’ve known each other for a while."
Virat’s fury pivoted instantly. "You. You absolute snake. You’re the one who twisted her mind against me."
Sheetal’s composure snapped. "Virat! Have you completely lost it? Do you even know what’s actually happening here?" She reached for his arm. "At least give me a chance to explain."
"Explain?" He knocked her hand away. "What is there left to explain? Everyone here just watched you cheat on me in plain sight. I want a divorce. I’m not staying married to a lying whore."
*Clap* *Clap*
The clapping sound echoed across the rooftop.
Both of them froze.
Rohit slowly lowered his hands and pointed at Sheetal.
"If she’s a whore for sitting at a table, then what does that make you?"
He pointed, unhurried, at the woman standing just behind Virat — visibly uncomfortable in a red dress.
"For spending the night with a woman who isn’t your wife?"
The crowd’s attention shifted, landing on the woman as if noticing her for the first time — though she’d clearly been standing there the entire time. The realization rippled through the onlookers, uneasy.
The woman in red found her voice fast. "We’re just friends. We only came for drinks."
Rohit smiled thinly. "How convenient."
He raised his voice, letting it carry to the edges of the crowd. "Four of us are having dinner, and one woman gets called a whore. Two of you are drinking and dancing together at midnight, and that’s... what — just friendship?"
The murmurs shifted again, tilting visibly back toward Sheetal.
Virat’s finger shook as he jabbed it toward Rohit. "You.. Who the hell are you? What business do you have interfering in a matter between husband and wife?"
Rohit stepped forward, hands in his pockets, planting himself beside Sheetal.
"Someone she called a brother. And apparently, I’m also the man you’ve decided to use as an excuse to slander your wife."
He glanced toward the woman in red. "Though I’ll admit, your case doesn’t strike me as a sister to you. Not even close."
Virat let out a wild, drunken laugh. "Oh, now you’re her brother? After ruining her name in front of everyone? Tell me — what kind of sister holds her brother’s hand like that, or drags him out to a nightclub?"
Rohit’s smug smile sharpened as he fired the questions straight back. "Weren’t you supposed to be out of city on official business? Then how are you suddenly standing here? And why is your shirt half undone if the two of you were just having drinks? Do you really think calling her a whore buys you a divorce without paying for it?"
The question landed exactly where it was meant to. Virat’s mouth opened and closed, no words coming out, his whole plan visibly unraveling in real time.
Rohit turned to Sheetal, who looked seconds from collapsing, her eyes glassy and unfocused, and rested a steady hand on her shoulder. He hesitated for a while before he framed his words carefully.
"Sheetal di.. unless I’m wrong, your husband has been seeing someone this entire ’business trip.’ He just admitted he faked the trip, and it’s already been more than a week. Your husband, unfortunately, is an opportunistic cheat. Check his phone. The truth is already there."
The crowd didn’t stay quiet after that.
"That man’s clearly the one cheating. He just got caught first."
"Shameless—trying to dodge the settlement by calling her a cheat."
"Look at the state of their clothes. Something’s obviously been going on there."
"He’s not even denying it. That’s guilt if I’ve ever seen it."
What had been a murmur turned into an open chorus of judgment, loud enough now that Virat couldn’t pretend not to hear it.
The woman in red flushed with embarrassment. Virat, meanwhile, had gone past reasoning entirely. He lunged, fisting a hand into Rohit’s collar. "You want to slander me now, kid?"
Rohit didn’t move an inch. "Take your hand off me," he said quietly, "or else I’ll cut it off and feed it to the dogs."
Virat flinched, just for a second, before the crowd’s anger seemed to embolden him again. He raised his fist. "You dare threaten me, you absolute son of a—"
Sheetal grabbed his arm, one last desperate attempt. "Enough! Virat, stop making a fool of yourself. We can still sort this out somewhere else."
He shoved her off him, hard enough that she stumbled backward into Priya.
Virat, feeling only contempt, as Rohit struggled to catch them both, he scoffed at them "Stupid bitch. You dare question—"
He never finished the sentence.
A fist caught him square in the face before the words could form. Robin, who had been holding himself back through every insult thrown at Priya and Sheetal, finally ran out of restraint the moment Priya was knocked into.
Rohit moved fast behind them, catching both women before they hit the ground, while Virat staggered upright, blood already sliding from his nose.
He shot Robin a look of pure fury, but the woman in red stepped in before it could go further, pressing a handkerchief to his face and holding him back.
Virat wiped his nose, looked at his wife standing in Rohit’s arms, and something in his expression shifted. Not shame, but relief.
"Good," he said. "This makes it easier. No more guilt, no more hesitation." He pointed straight at Sheetal. "You think you’re beautiful? Money doesn’t make you a good wife. You never were." Then he reached for the woman beside him. "Anjali. Marry me once the divorce is done. I mean it this time. I don’t feel guilty anymore."
Anjali stared at him, stunned for a beat, then nodded.
Sheetal’s legs finally gave out beneath her as she brokedown completely.
The bouncers arrived moments later, asking both parties, as politely as the situation allowed, to leave.
Rohit clicked his tongue, glancing between his half-finished plate and Sheetal’s shattered expression.
’All this... because I wanted dinner at quite place.’
Then his gaze shifted toward Virat and Anjali disappearing through the exit together.
Maybe this was better.
Better than watching that marriage rot slowly from the inside for years to come.