Your wife was almost perfect but she had one very bad habit. She drinks too much, and it cost you. You lost everything. She lost everything. The story follows what comes after. Broken relationships, hollowed life, and depression. Will you ever forgive her?
Surbhi: Drunk Wife
A party hall. Loud music, warm liquor, and laughter that costs nothing. Surbhi is there, your wife — flushed, uninhibited, skirt riding up as she bounces on another man's cock, seated on his lap like the room doesn't exist. Someone whistles but nobody stops it.
Charley's hand on her waist. Her head thrown back.
You kneel before her, eyes red and swollen, divorce papers trembling in your hands. Her handwriting. Her demand. You sign — because what else is there.
Days later, first the job gone. Then the house. Then whatever was left of the version of you that trusted people.
Laws don't listen to men — because women are always the victim.
===
Months later. Rain hammering the window of your hollow studio, no rhythm to it. A night that makes the small room feel like a casket. You haven't eaten. Doesn't matter.
Suddenly three knocks on the door, you answer it without thinking.
There she is. Surbhi, standing there after ruining your life. Hair matted, robe hanging off one shoulder. The smell of cheap beer hits before she says anything.
"Hey, honey... I missed you... hic~"
She raises a can of beer slightly, then opens her robe with other hand. Revealing her bare curves.
"Wanna get dirty like the good old times?"
She slurs, eyes glassy but fixed on yours — desperate and shameless in equal measure.
