November 10, 2025

Rahul struggled to make sense of the morning. His phone kept ringing, but his head throbbed too much to open his eyes. By the time he forced them open, the ringtone had stopped. He was in bed, still in last night’s clothes. His limbs ached. His mind was foggy. 

It had been a Saturday night party at a five-star hotel. His boss’s only son’s first birthday. The event was upscale and buzzing with energy. There were games, drinks, and a lavish dinner. Rahul couldn’t remember if he had eaten, and how he got home. 

Feeling parched, he got up, opened a bottle of water, and drank deeply. The nausea crept upward like a tide, thick and sour. He rushed to the washbasin and spat it out. His stomach churned. As he walked toward the fridge for lemon juice, his phone rang again. 

It was Murali, his colleague from the accounts department. 

“You are finally up?” Murali asked. “Still hungover? You seemed down last night. What happened?” 

“After a few tequila shots, I got dizzy,” Rahul sighed. “I sat on the sofa near the lift and must have passed out. I don’t even remember how I got home.” 

“Same here,” Murali said. “After the shots, I lost control over my mind and body. I think company driver dropped us home.” 

“Wait, then my bike must still be in the hotel parking lot. By now, the party gossip must have done its rounds. It is a real mess, nothing to be proud of.” Rahul felt embarrassed while talking about it. 

“You spoke something about Mr. Pramod’s wife. Did you date Neelam back in college?” Murali chuckled. 

“Who told you that?” Rahul was petrified. 

“I think you seriously goofed up. While slumping on the sofa, you started talking about her. You even mentioned how you held Neelam in your arms and kissed her lips in college. You sounded intimate and unsettled by her presence. What was that about?” 

“That was ancient history,” Rahul downplayed. “I buried that chapter long ago. I didn’t even know Neelam had married Mr. Pramod until I reached the party. Please don’t tell anyone. I could lose my job.” 

“I had no idea you were such a Casanova,” Murali teased. “But you really should be careful about sharing those secrets in public. I think someone joined us on the sofa after those tequila shots. There was a third guy.” 

“Wait… who was the third?” Rahul blinked. 

“I was inebriated.” He paused, then added, “My recollection is poor. But Roshan was drinking with us. Maybe he joined us on the sofa later.” 

He set his phone down on the table, his headache intensified under the weight of a hangover and stress. The mention of Neelam at the party now felt like a serious goof-up. If Mr. Pramod were to find out, would he still allow Rahul to remain in the company? Pramod’s arrogant nature was well known, and Rahul understood that jobs with such a high salary weren’t easy to come by again.

Rahul’s stomach dropped. He called Roshan, their company storekeeper. Roshan answered groggily. 

“Please,” Rahul begged, “Don’t tell anyone what happened last night.” 

“I didn’t know you were such a champion!” Roshan laughed. “You’re the one who dragged me into those tequila shots. I was just trying to help you feel better. Whose idea was it to drink in the first place?” 

“Drink some lemon juice. You’ll feel better,” Rahul advised. “And please, I don’t want this to blow up. I hope you have not told anyone.” 

“I have not told anyone except my wife. I tell everything to my wife.” 

“Is she around? Could you request her to keep the secret.” 

“She is not at home. She left for yoga classes with Sandra. They are friends. They share all their secrets. She must have already told Sandra.” 

“Sandra? The receptionist?” 

“Yeah. They’re close. Everyone knows.” 

Rahul’s heart sank. He tried calling Sandra. She didn’t answer. He sent her a WhatsApp message, pleading with her to keep quiet. No reply. He drank fizzy lime drink and tried to calm down. 

He found his bike keys in his jeans and went to retrieve it from the hotel. On the way back, he stopped at a vegetarian restaurant for lunch, then went home and napped. When he woke up, it was evening. Still no reply from Sandra. He messaged again. Nothing. 

The next morning, he reached the office fifteen minutes early and waited near reception. Sandra arrived five minutes later. 

“Good morning,” Rahul greeted, trying to sound casual. 

“Morning!” she chirped. “Last night’s party was fun. I heard you really enjoyed yourself. Sorry I didn’t reply to your message. I forgot.” 

“Did Roshan’s wife say anything about me?” he whispered. 

“I was busy dancing at the party. No one told me anything. It came as news when Roshan’s wife disclosed.” She said, booting up her computer. 

“Please,” Rahul implored, “don’t tell anyone. I’m begging you.” 

“Relax. I won’t. But…” 

“But what?” 

“A few minutes back, I ran into Gopi in the lift. I may have mentioned something about your story. Sorry.” 

Rahul’s eyes widened. Gopi was the office boy. He rushed to the pantry to find him. 

“Hey Gopi, I was looking for you,” Rahul called out. 

“Sir, I heard you were the life of the party,” Gopi grinned. “Sandra madam told me everything.” 

“What did she say?” 

“Honestly, I didn’t find it strange. People drink and lose control. No shame in that. Just be careful next time. It has happened with me so many times.” 

“Wait… what exactly did she say?” 

“She said you got drunk, went to the washroom, vomited and made a mess. She told me in the lift this morning. But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” Gopi said reassuringly. 

As Gopi walked away, Rahul stood frozen. His anxiety slowly melted into relief. The washroom incident was embarrassing. His greatest concern no longer troubled him. The resurfacing of his college affair with Neelam was not a worry anymore. The storm inside him had stilled. 

He returned to his desk. Murali was waiting. 

“Where have you been?” Murali asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you quit the job without telling me.” 

“Why would I quit?” Rahul snapped. “I could not sleep last night. And for the record, when I told you about Neelam, it was just the two of us. There was no third person on that sofa.” 

“You sure?” Murali asked. “I do not know why, but I have this hunch that someone else was there. Ask Roshan.” 

Rahul called Roshan again. 

“Hey Roshan,” His voice wavered, caught between panic and hope, “do you remember what happened after those tequila shots?” 

“You almost blacked out. Murali went to the sofa near the lift. You stumbled toward the washroom, and I followed to help. You were in bad shape. The floor was covered in vomit. I cleaned you up and brought you back to the sofa. You sat beside Murali. I went to get food.” Roshan chuckled. 

“So, it was just the two of us?” 

“Well… not exactly. When I left, he was standing right behind you two. I think he saw your condition and quietly arranged a wheelchair and vehicle to get you home.” 

“Who was it?” Rahul asked, dreading the answer. 

“Mr. Pramod!” Roshan said softly, unaware of the storm he had just unleashed.