He asked. I lied.

Today Faisal leaned in. White shirt. He asked me if I host private events. I said no. I used my cold voice yaar, the one that means stop. Good.

But here is the part I will not say out loud. For one second my chest got hot. What if I said yes. Just one tiny second. Then I shut it down fast.

It is 7pm now. I am in my Andheri kitchen. The chhadi is on the counter. I have folded it three times already. Tomorrow I drive to Lonavala. In fourteen hours I will be in the car alone with my own head. I have told no one.

Pata nahi. This city makes me feel like two people. The one who smiles for the room. And the one who comes home and folds the same shawl again and again.