Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
!!JAI CHAWLA!!
I slapped her because I wanted her to hate me. It was the first time I raised my hand at her.
No apologies, no guilt. Choosing my own happiness, I'm selfish for Savi's love. Devika, not my choice; just a pawn in my plan, fulfilling my father's last wish.
Our marriage, not a union of hearts but a strategic maneuver veiling a concealed divorce plan. Loyalty to Savi, unwavering – a declaration echoing in the silent chambers of my conscience.
Devika, untouched, as my commitment to Savi stands resolute.
A dive into the past unveils a detached version of myself on our first night.
I entered the room to find her emerging from the bathroom, her reception dress transformed into a simple suit. The bed adorned with roses irritated me, but I maintained a calm facade.
With a feigned smile, I inquired, "Did you have dinner, Devika?"
"Yay, Mom gave me," she replied with a genuine smile.
Our conversation felt awkward, reminiscent of our less-than-ideal wedding day.
She asked about Papa ji's health, and I grimly shared, "His condition is critical. The doctor doubts he'll."
"Don't worry, everything will be fine," she reassured, placing her hand in mine.
I decided to be upfront, "I don't want to rush into things. Let's build a friendship before diving into a marital relationship."
Devika blushed, agreeing, "Yes, I also want to take things slow."
Concerned about sharing a bed, I asked, "Are you okay sleeping in bed?"
"Yes, no problem." she replied.
As the clock struck midnight, memories of our first night flooded back. Settling in my study, I opened a drawer, preparing to confront the reality with divorce papers in hand.
My father passed away a month after our marriage.Six months have woven a tapestry of manipulation around Devika.
Proudly, I declare success as my mother turns hostile, scrutinizing Devika's every move.
I watch the drama unfold, finding entertainment in the chaos I've orchestrated.
I still can't fathom her; there's no attachment, no connection between us.
Yet, it's not because of me, but rather us. She refrains from questioning, only responding to my inquires.
There's no initiation of conversation; she lives like a single girl, showing no signs of a married woman. What is she?
Today, I slapped her, but she didn't utter a word. No questions about my nightly absences.
I'm never home at night; I'm always at Savi's place, yet she seems indifferent or maybe oblivious.
Initially, I thought she was naive, but is she really?
Leaving that aside, what should be my next move?
Heading back to the room, I find Devika peacefully seated, engrossed in her phone.
"I want a divorce," I announce, her attention shifting from the phone to me.
A fleeting moment reveals the visible handprints on her cheeks.
"Okay," she responds calmly, prompting me to question her composure.
But she surprises me with three conditions.
"Speak," I command, eager to comprehend her demands.
"First, I want to tell you a story," she begins, and I'm left wondering about her sanity.
Her insistence on uninterrupted narration and a mysterious third condition bewilders me.
As she prepares to share her story, I resist, unwilling to comply with her 'idiot' conditions.
"Don't you want a mutual divorce?" she proposes, a question I reluctantly accept.
"Okay, I agree," I concede, seating myself on the same couch where moments ago, divorce papers found their place.
The atmosphere thickens with an unspoken tension as Devika readies herself to reveal the story....
****************************************************************************
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