Page 41 of Mrs. Rathore

He sounded like a concerned husband. The words didn’t match the man I knew.

I nodded silently as he disappeared back inside. A few moments later, I heard the chime of a phone. Instinctively, I checked mine, but there were no new notifications. Then I saw Aryan’s phone on the bench beside me.

He forgot it?

I reached for it. Swiped up. Dozens of notifications cluttered the screen but it was Ira’s messages that sat at the top like flames waiting to burn.

‘Why the hell are you not replying?’

‘I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday.’

‘What’s going on, Aryan?’

I should’ve looked away. I should’ve left it there. But my fingers moved before my guilt could catch up.

And then, I typed.

Ira, please listen carefully, because this isn’t easy for me to say.

I’ve been holding it in, but it’s time to be honest. I don’t want you to contact me anymore. I know that sounds harsh, maybe even cruel but I’m overwhelmed. I can’t carry this emotional weight anymore.

You have to understand that I’m married. Yes, that part is true. I may not love Avni, but I love my family. And for their sake, I’ve made a choice. A painful one. But it’s the right one.

The truth is, I was never fully certain about marrying you. I wanted to be. I really did. But deep down, there was always doubt. I know that’s unfair to you. I led you with confusion, and now I’m leaving you with heartbreak. I’m sorry. Truly, deeply sorry.

But saying sorry won’t fix what I broke.

Please… for your own peace, move on. Forget me if you can. You deserve someone who chooses you without hesitation. I’m not that man. I never was.

Take care. Goodbye.

My heart thudded like a war drum as I stared at what I’d just written.

And then send.

Panic hit me the moment my thumb lifted. I scrambled to delete the sent message, hoping it hadn’t been seen. But the word “Seen” stared back at me like a ghost.

Too late. I quickly deleted it even though Ira read it.

Aryan returned a minute later, calm as ever. “You okay?” he asked, frowning slightly at my pale face. “You look… weird.”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You forgot your phone.”

I handed it to him. He took it without a second glance and tucked it into his back pocket. If he noticed anything odd, he didn’t show it.

Later, Aryan drove me to my house. My mother was waiting, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw me in a saree, in a wheelchair, and married to a man I loathed.

“I thought I’d never see you like this,” Maa whispered, running her hand gently through my hair. “You don’t know how happy it makes me. I’ve always dreamt of your wedding… but I never imagined…”

Her voice trembled, the rest left unspoken.

And as I smiled back at her, a hollow ache grew inside me because I had married a man who didn't love me, and I’d just broken the heart of the woman he probably did.

“Mummy, you need to rest,” I whispered, gently squeezing her pale hand, forcing a smile to hide the ache swelling in my chest.

I turned to hug my father. “I’m going to miss you, Papa.”

“I miss you every second,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Without you, this house feels haunted. You were our sunshine, and now… everything is grey and silent.” He kissed the top of my head. “Just take care of yourself. And your legs… any progress?”

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