Despite the fancy chimney and the kitchen exhaust, despite it being the end of November, and despite the wintry cold slowly creeping in through sundry crooks and crevices of the gargantuan beach end bungalow, Shivangi felt delirious.

Even as hot beads of sweat began to trickle down her temple, the 38 year old prodded on with just a quick furtive glance at the wall clock opposite her.

Quarter to nine! They would be here any moment!

Her head danced around, her hands swung left and right as spoons, forks, cups, saucers, plates all were fished out; all quickly yet neatly arranged at the dinner table, all condiments, all drinks including soft and hard in place.

It was then that she heard the car wheels screech to a halt in the portico. She rushed into the kitchen, and opened the lid of the largest bowl on the evening's menu, her nee their favourite Chettinad Boneless Chicken Curry. A quick inspection followed, thereafter her fingers dipped into a small bottle that she fetched out of a bottom drawer. She liberally sprinkled its contents all over the bowl. A final garnish! The topping, the grand cherry on the cake so to speak!

Then, she slightly bowed, her nostrils inhaling the aromatic essence of the prima donna dish of the night. A smile, soft yet not devoid of meaning, sneaked out of her lips; spread all around the contours of her almond shaped visage.

The door bell rang. Satisfied to the brim, Shivangi marched towards the entrance.

"Hi baby!".

'Hello Shivangi!'.

 The first was from her hubby. The second greeting was that of her bestie Hema.

Shivangi smiled back, warmly. Then stepped aside as the two made their way to the dining area. How ironic, she wondered that the two most important people in her life were her bete noire. One, her husband of the last 15 years, and the other, her best friend from school, the only friend she'd ever had, and now also, her business partner!

‘A toast to our marriage anniversary’, exclaimed Vikram.

"And a toast to our own anniversary, my dearest friend, my soul sister Shivi".

Hema held Shivangi in a right embrace. "To us, to friendship, to 'Healthful Bytes'. The last was to the business venture, the cloud kitchen the two women had started at the cusp of the pandemic. Feeling lost, and smelling an opportunity, the two, bound by their common love for food albeit goaded by Vikram, ever the glib salesman, had launched Healthful Bytes.

In less than three years, their fledgling enterprise had metamorphosed from a small one pot dish joint to a gormandish favourite by offering an eclectic range encompassing both vegetarian and non-vegetarian fares. Shivangi, ever the vegan, was looking after the vegetarian menu whilst Hema, foodie and hard core non-vegetarian ensured that the clientele Between the two, the chef duo ensured that their rich clientele, discerning gormets were eating out of their gormandish hands. The two sat opposite each other, Vikram and Hema. Shivangi ensured that. She wanted to see them at close quarters. Lovers at play! And they didn't disappoint. 'Could you pass the naan please?', asked Vikram. Quick on the uptick, Hema gingerly dipped a hand into the plate beside her, and placed one on Vikram's plate. As she did so, her eyes met Vikram's even as her fingers slightly brushed against his hands. A gesture that went not quite unnoticed by Shivangi. The bitch! She muttered under her breath. In her mind danced all previous transgressions. The lipstick smudge on her hubby's shirt collar, the Airbnb bills, the voice notes, the chat talks and the video footage of the two entering and exiting past the lobby of several five star hotels and resorts.

The private investigator she had hired had done a pretty good job. 'Hmm, yummy, my darling wife, what food you make. Always a pleasure, sweetheart!' Shivangi looked at her husband, the very same person she had fallen for when in college. He was looking at her, smiling, his hands and mouth busy gorging on the sumptuous delicacies she had so longingly prepared for the occasion. Bastard! The words were a muffle that birthed and died within her throat. 'How could he call me darling when his real darling was sitting beside him? How could he eat the food, all his favourites, and still cheat on him? The man, if he ever were one, had planned it all too well. She remembered his words from yore. "Shivi, it's the pandemic. The world is trapped behind closed doors. Make hay while the sun shines. Why don't you and your bestie Hema start a catering service. Guess what, you two chefs will be a hit, especially who wouldn't love relishing your assortment of veggie delights. And guess what, I will give you the investment."

It was all a maze. A part of his diabolical plan! In the garb of opening a business, he wanted to come closer to Hema. Was Hema too in the know then? Was she also part of this evil plan? Or, did the affair start much later? How does it all matter now? Shivangi sighed as she watched the two love birds. How happy they looked! What would they--her dear husband Vikram and her best friend Hema be thinking of her?

What a stupid ignoramus half wit is she? Isn't it? Anyways that was all water under the bridge, Shivangi knew. She had things to do. Hey, let's uncork the happiness! So saying, she turned towards the kitchen bar. When she returned a minute back, she had in her hands a bottle of champagne. Let's celebrate! "Not so soon, Shivi. Where's the cake?" As if waiting to be asked, Shivangi turned once again back to the kitchen. And when she came back, she was wheeling in a massive triple deck multi coloured cake. A gasp escaped Hema's lips. Vikram's eyes half popped out of their sockets. Heart shaped with the legend HAPPY ANNIVERSARY and HAPPY HEALTHFUL BYTES carved deep into the cake, it was grand spectacle indeed. Vikram, the perennial chain smoker fished a pocket lighter, and lit the lone lipstick shaped candle. The three then half bent and blew it. Amidst ecstatic delight, the troika exchanged warm hugs. The love birds did embrace a wee bit too tightly, a detail that Shivangi's hawkish eyes did not fail to notice. A wave of spasmodic hatred ran through her entire body. Her face filled with utter disgust. Feeling delirious, she reached grabbed a chair as her legs began to lose strength. "Hey, are you all right," exclaimed Vikram as he helped her into a chair. His words were not lost on Shivangi, nor was his tone. They reeked of pseudo concern. "Rest here for a while, baby. I will call an end to the party. I myself am feeling not so well." Shivangi watched her husband as he said this! The latter's face was shorn of all colour. His eyes had turned a darkish brown; the pupils seemed to strain out of their sockets. 'I feel like puking!'. Those were his last words before he collapsed on the floor. The next few moments were a spectacle that Shivangi, who by now had sprung upright, watched with sheer joy from the edge of the bed. There, a mere two feet away from her, her hubby of a decade and half, lay writhing on the floor. His mouth had turned frothy, his legs and hands an ugly mass of twisted fresh that now had turned purplish. With sadistic delight, she stepped onto the floor, and as she lay before her dying husband, she leant close to his face. Then, looking into his shell shocked eyes, she hissed, 'Die, you bastaaaard!'. The next moment Vikram was a dead man. She got up and coolly walked towards the dining room. Seated on the chair, her head bent, hands outstretched to its maximum, was Hema. She came around and sat opposite to hers. Then, she locked eyes with her best friend. "Why did you do this to me, you bitch? Why did you betray my trust? Why, of all people did you have to pick on my husband to have an affair? Why...why why...tell me why, you whore"? Her words were a scream that ricochetted off the walls and reverberate all around the high ceilings room before doing a slow death. The words fell deaf on Hema's ears. How could she have listened? She had already died. The poison, the white powder she had liberally sprinkled on 'dal makhni' had ably done it's job. Her two enemies were no more. The realisation made Shivangi heave a huge sigh of relief. She sat there staring at the shell shocked eyes of Hema for an eternity. It was only at the seventh ring that she woke from her reverie. She picked up the phon. Her voice was a hiss. "They're dead". The voice on the other end was calmness personified. 'Wait for ten minutes. Then, call the police. Both of them had a heart condition. The poison can never be detected. You...err...we're free, my love'. As she kept the phone down, a smile, evil to the core, escaped Shivangi's lips. She swung around, twirled, and swirled her lithe frame, her long legs shooting into the air. What they could do, she could do one better.