Скачать или смотреть I thought my marriage to Priya, just three years in, was finally on the mend.

I'm Rohan, a 32-year-old software engineer living in Bangalore, and I thought my marriage to Priya, just three years in, was finally on the mend. We were building a life, even with the distance, but then a late-night check of her WhatsApp shattered everything I thought we were.
I always knew I wasn't perfect, carrying a secret from before my marriage that had already fractured our trust. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for the moment I saw the messages – proof that my wife, Priya, had not only made out with another man, but her excuse was that she 'never got to enjoy life' because she married me at 23.
Three years ago, Priya and I entered an arranged marriage. She was 23, fresh out of college, and I was 29. The initial months were a blur of newness, of learning each other's habits, hopes, and dreams. But there was a shadow. Between our 'roka' – our engagement – and the actual wedding, I made a terrible mistake. I slept with my ex-girlfriend. It was a moment of weakness, a panic of 'what am I doing?' before committing fully. Priya found out after we were married. It tore us apart, but we worked through it. Or so I thought. I swore it would never happen again.
Then, a year into our marriage, I got a little too close to a colleague, Sarah. We went on car drives after work, talked for hours, even planned a weekend trip out of Mumbai – though that never happened. Once, just once, we held hands, a fleeting, innocent touch, or so I told myself. Priya suspected something, accused me of an affair. I denied it vehemently, convinced nothing physical had happened, that it was merely an emotional connection. She was hurt, deeply. We moved past that too. Or so I prayed. The distance, with her pursuing her Master's in Delhi while I stayed in Bangalore, was meant to be a new chapter, a test of our strength, not an opportunity for more cracks to form.Last night, the crack became a chasm. It was late, past midnight in Bangalore, which meant it was even later in Delhi. I tried calling Priya, just a quick 'goodnight' before bed, but she didn't answer. No big deal, she was probably studying, or asleep. I texted her instead. Still no reply. A strange unease settled in my stomach. She was usually so diligent about answering, or at least sending a quick emoji.
A few hours later, still no word. I felt that familiar knot of anxiety tightening in my chest, the one that always came with the distance, with the memories of past betrayals – both hers and mine. I logged into her WhatsApp, something I rarely did, but a habit born from the suspicion that had always lingered. My heart was pounding, a drumbeat against my ribs.
I scrolled through her recent chats. And there it was. Not a direct conversation with someone suspicious, but a group chat, full of unfamiliar names. Messages about a party. Pictures. And Priya, in the middle of it all, laughing, arms around people I didn't recognize. There were comments, 'You guys look so good together,' under a photo of her with a tall, handsome guy. My blood ran cold.
I sent her another text, trying to keep my voice even, though my hands were shaking. 'Hey, everything okay? You were out late?' She replied, almost immediately, 'Yeah, just a small get-together with friends from uni. So tired, going to bed now.' My jaw clenched. She hadn't mentioned a party. She hadn't mentioned *him*. That cold feeling solidified into dread.[object Object][object Object][object Object][object Object]

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CHAPTERS:
00:00 The First Crack
20:14 A Future Erased