My mother-in-law made me wake up early to cook 30 thalis for the shraddha ceremony alone, the whole family ate a sumptuous meal, and then made me wash the mountain of dishes.

The clock struck 3am.
The alarm from the phone under my pillow vibrated loudly. I quickly turned it off, afraid of waking up the man lying on his back – Arjun, my husband, still snoring, his breath reeking of alcohol after last night’s drinking session.

I tiptoed out of bed. The cold morning air of Punjab seeped through the crack in the door, making my skin numb. Today was the shraddha ceremony of the Singh family, one of the most prestigious families in the area – and also the golden cage that had imprisoned my life for the past 5 years.

Going down to the kitchen, my mother-in-law – Shanti Devi – had been sitting there for a while. She sat on a wooden bed, her hands fingering the Rudraksha beads.

– Are you awake? – Her voice was cold. – 30 thalis today. Take care of yourself. Don’t let people laugh at the Singh family for having a clumsy daughter-in-law.

– Yes, I know, Mom.

– The cook refused. I’ll keep the money. Consider it your contribution to this year’s shraddha ceremony.

I stood there dumbfounded. 30 thali. Me alone.

– Mom… how can I do it all by myself? What about Priya, Kavita…?

– Your sisters are putting on makeup to welcome the guests. As for you – as a daughter-in-law, and you haven’t given birth to a child for this family – you have to make a profit from the work. If you can’t do it, then get lost.

She went upstairs, leaving me with a mountain of food: chicken, lamb, basmati rice, vegetables… Anger welled up in my throat, but my tears had long dried up – from the sarcasm my relatives used to say about me as a “dry tree without fruit”.

I started working. The knife and chopping board clanged alone in the large, cold kitchen.

At 5 a.m., my hands were numb from the cold water.
7 o’clock, sweat soaked the back of my shirt despite the cold weather.
9 o’clock, the first guest arrived. The sound of sandals, laughter and chatter resounded.

Arjun walked down to the kitchen, dressed smartly, wearing strong perfume.

He glanced at me – messy hair – with a look of disgust.

– Hurry up. The guests have arrived but no thali has been brought up yet. You’re taking too long.

– Can’t you see I’m working so hard?

– Don’t be rude. Mom said you can do it, so you have to do it.

Arjun left to drink masala tea with the guests, leaving his wife to struggle with the huge workload.

11 o’clock in the morning.
30 thalis were served perfectly: golden tandoori chicken, crispy samosas, spiced cabbage salad…

The guests praised Shanti Devi for teaching her daughter-in-law well.

She laughed heartily:

– She is hard-working, making up for her… infertility.

The whole table burst into laughter. Each laugh was like a knife stabbing my heart.

I hid behind the kitchen door, quickly eating a bowl of rice with leftover curry.

I saw Arjun picking up food for Riya – his ex-girlfriend… or his new girlfriend who was secretly supported by the whole family. Riya looked at me with a provocative look.

My mother-in-law also warmly greeted her:

– Eat a lot, my child. Use your strength to give birth. It’s tiring to rely on that useless girl.

My hands trembled.

The party was over. There were only 30 trays of dirty dishes, bones, and tissues scattered everywhere.

– Clean up! – Shanti Devi shouted. – If the house gets dirty, Riya will laugh at you.

Arjun and Riya sat drinking tea, laughing and joking. The sisters-in-law were all looking for excuses to avoid work.

Only me and the mountain of dishes remained.

The sunset was red as blood covering the yard.

I sat down by the well, my back aching like it was about to break. The dishwashing liquid was murky and greasy.

One bowl.
Two bowls.
Three bowls.

Riya’s coy voice echoed through the living room:

– When will I settle this?

Arjun replied..– Soon. Mom just needs to find an excuse to chase her away.

“Clang!”

The bowl fell and broke.

Then a second. A third. A fourth.

I jumped up and threw the entire stack of bowls against the wall.

The sound of broken ceramics echoed loudly – ​​as if wiping out five years of suffering.

The whole family ran out in panic.

– What are you doing? – my mother-in-law screamed.

Arjun rushed forward to slap me.

But my gaze made him stop.

I picked up the biggest plate – the one with tandoori chicken – and smashed it hard right at Arjun’s feet.

The pieces of ceramics flew everywhere, scratching Riya’s feet. She screamed.

The space was dead silent.

Part 4: The Final Blow

I pulled a piece of paper from my apron pocket.

– You want to kick me out, right? Fine. Today I declare: I will divorce.

Arjun growled:

– If you leave me, you will be left empty-handed!

– I don’t need anything from the Singh family. – I held up the paper. – This is the ultrasound result this morning.

Twins. 7 weeks. The fetal heart is strong.

My mother-in-law was shocked:

– You… are pregnant? Twins?

Arjun also immediately changed his attitude:

– Why didn’t you say so earlier?

Mrs. Shanti Devi’s voice softened:

– Oh my gosh, broken dishes are a good sign! Go to the motel, let Riya clean up.

Arjun tried to hug me, I pushed him away.

– Don’t use the child to hold on.

I pulled out another piece of paper and threw it on the table.

– This is Arjun’s semen test. He is secondary infertile. The chance of conceiving naturally is almost zero.

The whole family was stunned.

Arjun trembled:

– Then… who is the baby…?

I smiled:

– Anyone is fine – as long as it’s not me. Oh, and Riya… I heard you’re also boasting about being pregnant? Congratulations – the author is definitely not Arjun.

Riya turned pale. Arjun glared at her.

I took off my apron and threw it into the pile of broken dishes.

– I’ve signed the divorce papers. The 500,000 rupee savings book my parents gave me – I’ve withdrawn it all. I’m leaving.

I walked out the gate. The night wind was cold but I felt light.

End: The Last Secret

I called a taxi to the maternity hospital.

In the VIP waiting room, a man in a white blouse was waiting – Dr. Raj, my old classmate and the man who had helped me with the IVF using the sperm that Arjun had stored for 5 years before we got married, when he was still healthy.

Yes. The two children were Arjun’s biological children.

The infertility certificate was real – for now.

But I didn’t say that his sperm had ever been stored.

I would raise the children alone.

And let the Singhs live in regret and torment for losing their only two grandchildren.

I placed my hand on my belly, smiling at the sparkling lights of Mumbai.

– Sleep well, children. We are free now.

A month later.

Jaipur city began to wake up under the honey-colored sunlight. The pink roofs of the “Pink City” glowed with a warm yellow. I stood on the balcony of the small apartment I had just rented, my hand on my belly – where two little creatures were growing day by day.

A new life began here.

A job – a rebirth

After leaving my husband’s house, I moved to Jaipur, working as an office assistant for a women’s health care center. The center’s director was Ms. Kavita – a strong woman I accidentally met at the hospital the day I submitted my pregnancy check-up application.

She looked at me affectionately:

– We women are not born to endure. Sometimes you have to leave to teach the world your worth.

Just that one sentence, I burst into tears.

From that day on, I worked under Ms. Kavita’s protection. She didn’t ask much, nor was she curious. She just quietly let me answer the past with reality.

Every morning, I go to the center, make myself a cup of hot masala chai, start work with unprecedented peace.

No more shouting.

No more pressure on the table, the dishes.

No more people calling me deaf or unlucky.

Just me – strong, free, and full of hope.

Night pains and warm hands

Being pregnant with twins makes me tired faster. Every night, my legs cramp, my stomach is tense. Some days the pain is so bad that I want to faint. But every time I am too tired, I receive a video call from Vietnam or a text message from Dr. Tuan:

– Keep your spirits up, don’t let stress affect the pregnancy. The two babies will be like their mother, strong.

Strange. In this man, there is no pity, only respect and proper concern.

He has never crossed the line.

But the look in his eyes during each call… sometimes makes my heart flutter.

Is it possible… after all… I have the right to love again?

I dare not answer that question, only smiling every time my stomach feels light as if in response.

The shadow of the past returns

One afternoon, while I was sweeping the consulting room, the center door opened.

A woman in a red saree rushed in, panting:

– Is anyone named… Thara here?

I stopped.

That voice…

That pronunciation…

I turned around, and as expected, my face turned pale.

It was Hung’s cousin – Parvati, the only relative in my husband’s family who had ever treated me kindly.

She looked at me, her eyes red:

– Thara… I have to go home. My husband’s family… is in chaos.

I clenched my fists.

– I have nothing to do with them anymore.

Parvati shook her head, pressing a train ticket into my hand:

– You don’t understand. They…

She paused for a moment, then said through sobs:

– They just discovered something terrible. And Mrs. Phan is frantically looking for you.

My heart clenched.

– What did they discover?

Parvati looked straight into my eyes:

– They know the truth about… frozen sperm.

All the sounds around stopped.

The table, the wall, the sound of a baby crying in the waiting room far away… everything disappeared.

Only that sentence echoed in my head.

– Who told them? – I whispered.

– An old hospital employee took the leaked files and sold them to your mother-in-law. She went crazy. Hung… collapsed. And Thu… ran away.

A long, eerie silence followed.

– Now they are searching for me all over Jaipur and Delhi. Mrs. Phan said that if they find me, she will take the two children back at all costs.

I held my stomach and took a step back.

The wind blew from the corridor, cold.

The two children in my belly kicked lightly, as if sensing danger.

The turn of fate

Parvati held my hand tightly:

– I have to run away. Tonight. Here is the train ticket to Mumbai. My friends are there. They will help me.

I shook my head, my lips trembling:

– I am too tired to run away…

– I cannot let them take my children. No!

I looked at the ticket.

Mumbai.

A strange city.

A new beginning.

Or a new escape?

I swallowed hard, took a deep breath.

In that moment, I knew my life would take a completely different direction.

I folded the ticket and put it in my pocket.

– Okay. I will go.

But in my heart I promised:

This time, I will not just hide.

I will fight.

And not let anyone, including them, decide the future of the two children.