“Sir… I’ve never been with anyone before… not a woman, not a man. You’re the first person I trusted this much…” Advertisements
The red light on the recorder kept blinking.
Rohan stood frozen beside the bed, staring at the open trolley bag as if his body had forgotten how to move.
A few minutes ago, he had been nervous for a completely different reason.
He thought this night was about trust.
About finally opening his heart to someone.
But now, looking at the things inside Vikram’s bag, Rohan felt something cold crawl up his spine.
There were no clothes.
No laptop.
Not even toiletries.
Only a thick brown folder.
Under it were several smaller envelopes, a digital camera, and what looked disturbingly like printed photographs.
Rohan’s throat tightened.
— “What… what is all this?”
Vikram didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he calmly picked up the folder, placed it on the table, and opened it like he had been preparing for this moment for a long time.
The first thing Rohan saw made his blood turn cold.
A photograph.
Of him.
Walking out of his apartment building two weeks earlier.
Another photo.
Rohan sitting alone at a café near his office.
Another.
Rohan buying medicine at a pharmacy late at night.
Then another.
Rohan standing outside his mother’s house, holding a grocery bag in one hand and his phone in the other.
His fingers began to shake.
— “Why do you have these?”
Vikram finally looked at him.
His face was still calm.
Too calm.
— “Because I needed to be sure.”
Rohan took one small step back.
— “Sure about what?”
Vikram slowly pulled one envelope from beneath the folder and pushed it across the table.
Rohan looked down.
His full name was written on it.
Not just “Rohan.”
His full legal name.
His date of birth.
His address.
Even his mother’s name.
Rohan’s breathing became uneven.
— “Who are you?”
For the first time that night, Vikram’s expression changed.
Not into a smile.
Not into guilt.
But something heavier.
Something almost painful.
He lowered his voice and said:
— “I’m not the man you think I am.”
Rohan’s stomach dropped.
Vikram opened the envelope and removed a single old photograph.
It was faded, slightly torn at the corner.
Rohan saw a younger woman in it.
Then a man standing beside her.
And in the woman’s arms…
was a baby.
Rohan stared at the photo.
His heart began pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.
Because the woman in the picture—
was his mother.
And the baby…
