I loved Ritika a lot and couldn’t risk losing her; this was my only chance to get her back forever. That’s why I did not tell her or involve her in any way. Not even the smallest hint. I made my plans alone and with perfect care. An “accident” so coolly and meticulously designed. Precisely at 04:40 in the afternoon, the ghastly accident would occur. And then my phone would ring – to convey the “bad” news. And suddenly I would be a free man.
Free, Liberated from shackles. Released from bondage. Then all I had to do was to keep cool, maintain a solemn façade, and wait for Ritika to return from Germany. Then after the customary condolence period was over, Ritika would propose to marry me – an act of chivalry, of sympathy, or even “self-sacrifice”. First I would demur, then “reluctantly” succumb to the pressure from my friends and relatives, and accept - just for my children’s sake. There would be nods of approval all around. And soon I and Ritika would be Husband and Wife.
