After the ceremony concluded, we returned to what was now supposed to be my home—or rather, a home I was still trying to comprehend. As we sat together in a quiet car, his cousins—who would soon be my brothers-in-law, Agastya and Nakul—were engaged in conversation. I, on the other hand, felt lost in my thoughts, struggling to grasp the moment and their words.
When we arrived at his house, he exited the car abruptly, slamming the door behind him. I felt a rush of uncertainty wash over me. As I reached for the door handle, I heard their voices calling out to me.
"Wait, bhabhi!" Nakul and Agastya said together as I turned to face them.
I hesitated, withdrawing my hand, and watched them step out of the car. Agastya opened my door, and Nakul extended his hand toward me.
"Bhabhi, ab aaiye," he encouraged with a warm smile. I hesitated for a moment, glancing between his hand and his face, and finally placed my hand in his, holding my saree with the other.
Agastya joined us as we proceeded, and I saw everyone waiting at the door, including him. It appeared they were preparing for the aarti ceremony, and I felt a mix of nerves and anticipation.
Standing beside him while his cousins mingled with the family, I tried to focus on the present. His mother and chachi (Shalini and Nandini) approached us with the aarti plate and a Kalash in hand.
His mother's gentle touch was comforting as she performed the aarti for us, and when his chachi set down the Kalash filled with rice, I felt a sense of solemnity. Following her instructions, I gently kicked the Kalash as the ritual unfolded. Once it was over, we stepped inside the house.
"Nandini, please take Bhavika to her room; she must be tired," his mother said with kindness.
As we walked toward the room, my mind swirled with a myriad of thoughts and emotions.
When we entered, she opened the door and said, "Bhavika, sit here. Aksh will be here shortly. If you need anything, feel free to call me or Bhabhi."
I nodded, "Ji," hoping to convey my appreciation.
After she left and closed the door behind her, I took a deep breath and began to explore the room still lost somewhere in my thoughts. Just as I was about to settle onto the bed, the door burst open, revealing him.
His entrance was sudden and filled with tension. He slammed the door behind him and began to shout, and I flinched at the intensity of his voice.
"Now you must be feeling very happy that you married me. You always wanted this, right? You had a crush on me in school and liked me, but even after I rejected you, you still agreed to this marriage. I can't believe you have any self-respect. I insulted you back then. Don’t you understand what that means? I don’t like you and never will—get that through your head!" he exclaimed, his words laden with hurt and frustration before he stormed out, slamming the door once more.
I stood there in shock, grappling with what he had said. My knees felt weak, and I eventually sank to the floor. Clenching my fists tightly, I closed my eyes, trying to process the rush of emotions flooding through me.
Tears began to well up, and I could no longer hold them back. It was as if he had wounded me again, just like in school. No matter how much I tried to rise above the pain of his past words, his outburst had reopened old wounds I thought had healed.
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