A white envelope under the doormat, Jeet picked up and his hands started trembling by seeing the name on the top, it was from Rekha. Five years since Rekha had been gone, a hallow echoed in his house. Five years later her name is again felt in the home, Jeet had not touched anything of her, her clothes still hung in the closet and the books which she usually reads are placed on the same place with a dirt on that. He has preserved all her things without putting any hand on them.
Jeet's heart pumped against his chest when he tore open the envelope, similar handwriting as of Rekha, it was so tangible, real and feels like a physical blow to him.
"My dearest Jeet, the collapse began. If you are reading this letter I am gone and you are the reason for that, you became successful in your evil plan".
Jeet numbed out, the starting two lines of the letter gave chills to him, he reread it again and again but neither the words changed nor its meaning, he throws the letter in his dustbin and rushed to his bedroom in panic mode. He don't want to believe of what he saw but he stood up again and picked up the letter to read it again.
You always hated me for my career as it was always above yours, you wanted to curb me as per your thoughts and mold me into your perfect wife definition. But I refused.
A thought strikes his mind, he remembered the last argument happened between them, he is shouting on her for her ambition and why she can not behave and live like others normal housewives. He also slapped her for being indulge in the office work and said terrible things to her, now he is remembering her face after that incident where she is filled up with grief but did not spoke a single word.
You said I was selfish and does not live as per your expectations. You are right that day, I did not like to live under your shadow and work as per your bets because I always dreamt of achieving great but not only for me but for us. "And that's the reason you killed me," isn't it Jeet?
His hands started shaking, he grabbed the letter in his hand and again travelled in the past where he had one argument with her where he used cruel words on her and makes a obligations of cheating. Their argument heated up so much that he became violent and slapped her, remembering the scene he started crying and again going through the words.
You thought you were clever. The "accident" you called it. A faulty gas line, you said. How convenient. The police believed you, of course. They always did. You're so good at playing the grieving husband, Jeet. So convincing.
He started sweating cold and suspecting different persons in his contact but was unable to find anyone. A flicker of doubt grows in his mind, does she knows about his plan? Had she suspected? He began following up the day when he was constructing the plan and fabricating the gas line but can not find any question mark in his work.
I knew you are capable of it, I saw the dreadfulness in your eyes and I knew that one day, your anger would boil over. And I also knew that no one would suspect you as you were the perfect husband and picture of respectability in your surrounding. No one ever believe that you, Mr. Jeet Singh could be a murderer?
Jeet closed his eyes and remembered that night of her death. The distress call made to emergency services, the fake tears in front of police, neighbors and the family members. The pretentious part was played so well and convincing that he himself started to believe that everything is true.
But I have one trump card to play, bebe. A final act of defiance from the ashes of my body, I've left a detailed account of everything - your anger, threats, the way you looked at me like a possession, not a person and more important a video of yours one time physically torturing me. It all will be act as evidence and will be delivered to the home of police officer who was investigating my case.
The letter ended up abruptly. Jeet's blood pressure was bouncing, he was dying to find the evidence to destroy it and silence Rekha's accusations from beyond the ashes. He frantically everyday goes and hides near the police officer's house in search of any clue that may posted to his house and before anyone he can destroy it, but nothing goes according, the days were full of anxiety. Jeet fears at every sound and shadow, he always sees the dream of police knocking his door and he is behind the bar, he also saw Rekha's face everywhere and voice disgusting him.
His life became worse as he left his job and started drinking heavily to mellow down his mind but alcohol only amplifies his guilt, making Rekha's face, accusation more clearer. One night in a drunken condition bell of his house rang up, he filled up with fear and went to open the door where he saw no one but a similar letter lying with the name of her.
When he opens up the only one line was engraved on the page. "The evidence is just now delivered to the officer's house, you are finished". The floor down his feet slips away, he charged towards the officer's house with a attempt to capture the evidence before anyone. Somehow maniacally he reached the place and tries to tear apart the mailbox of the house with endeavour to destroy the clue and achieve his innocence, however there was nothing in the box and because of his aggression he harmed up his hand and members of the house were also awake.
The main door of the house opens up and the police officer came out, Jeet saw a white paper in his hand which gave the knowledge to him that he has been exposed now, Jeet fainted out. The next scene he was sitting on the chair, his hand clasped tightly in his lap. He looked at the officer across from him, his gaze steady, his voice clear.
"I killed my wife," he said.
The officer's eyes widened in surprise.
"What did you say?"
"I killed my wife," Jeet repeated. "I... I made it look like an accident. A faulty gas line."
He told everything, the argument, the resentment, the way he fabricated the gas line that night, knowing deep down what he was doing. He also told about the letters.
After his statement a man came down through the stairs of the house. Officer now you believe my words I was right with my suspicion that Jeet is the culprit, the man was Rekha's brother and everything from the letters to down the evidence was just a bait planted by him to disclose the real truth.
The officer listened intently, when everyone is finished he took Jeet into custody. In the police station he sat in the cold, sterile cell, waiting for his trial. Jeet felt a strange sense of relief. The weight of his guilt had finally been lifted, he had confessed, he had faced his demons, he had accepted his punishment.
He knew that he would never be free from the memory of what he'd done, from the image of Rekha's accusing eyes but he also knew that he had done the right thing, that he had finally paid for his crime. He had silenced Rekha, but he could never silence his own conscience.