His Burden, His Blessing

Their Journey?

After Ishaani left for the bathroom, I genuinely felt bad. I really did.

But as the minutes ticked by and she didn't return, worry gnawed at me. Natasha caught my eye and gave me a stink eye.

They probably think I'm the worst husband ever.

But are they wrong? My mind asked, and I didn't have an answer.

Natasha dragged her husband away, shooting me looks of contempt. I watched them move to a corner, her pointing at me in frustration, Varun trying to calm her, offering apologetic smiles in between. In the end, he gave in, and never looked back at me.

I had ruined my reputation. I knew it. Varun and Natasha probably thought I was a pervert. And my wife... I was certain she thought the same.

Speaking of her, she had been in there a long time.

Had she left without telling me because she was ashamed of me?

I stood there, alone, anxiety tightening its grip. I needed to apologize. I had hurt her enough. She wasn't at fault. She didn't deserve this.

Last night, she had been hurt, but gone straight to sleep without letting me talk. This morning, she was absent again, but I had resolved to make things right tonight.

This marriage wasn't her fault. If anything, my own selfishness had led us here. I had chosen to marry her to stay on my parents' good side, to be the obedient son they were proud of. But tonight, I would set things right.

I would apologize. I would try for a fresh start.

"Hey, Dr. Zeyansh! Come, get introduced to Dr. Tanisha," the dean said, leading me toward that woman.

I watched her as she moved through her colleagues, her smile bright, her presence magnetic. Outgoing yet professional, charming yet composed. It was intoxicating.

"So, Dr. Zeyansh, I've heard about your work and must say, I'm impressed. I look forward to collaborating with you on future operations," she said, before the couples were invited to dance.

I was about to find Ishaani, to apologize, to make things right, when Tanisha extended her hand. She wanted to dance. My pulse quickened. Many men had been ready to ask her, but she had asked me.

I took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. As we moved, I learned about her background, her education, her career. She was intelligent, confident, utterly captivating.

When another man politely asked to cut in, she declined, insisting we continue our conversation.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, nervously smiling.

She threw her head back and laughed, a sound like a siren, pulling me in.

"Well, I think you're interesting, and I want to get to know you better," she said. Her tone wasn't flirtatious. It was genuine, curious, and warm. I told her about myself, candidly.

And then I looked across the room.

Ishaani. In a man's arms. Siddharth.

Of all people.

He was obnoxious, loud, and annoyingly enthusiastic. Even as a pediatrician, his energy had always grated on me. But here he was, holding my wife, laughing with her, making her laugh so freely, so completely.

I was livid.

"They look like fools," she muttered under my breath. "If they don't know how to dance, they should sit down and not make a fool out of themselves."

Her words surprised me. She didn't even know Ishaani, yet she felt the same irritation I did.

"They're probably married or something," she continued, laughing. "They suit each other. Made for each other."

I clenched my jaw. "That woman is my wife, and that man is my colleague. They are not a couple," I said firmly. I let go of Tanisha's waist, trying to shake off my growing irritation.

"W-wife? I didn't know," Tanisha said, stunned. But my attention was fixed on Siddharth, on how easily he had made my wife laugh, on how comfortable she looked in his presence.

I didn't like it. I hated it.

They walked away from the dance floor, Siddharth fetching drinks for both of them as they settled at a table.

"They seem very comfortable with each other. I assumed they were married," Tanisha said apologetically.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," I replied, forcing a small smile.

I was done with this party. I asked the dean if I could leave early, and when he granted permission, I went straight to my wife.

"Ishaani, it's time to go home," I said sternly. The look she gave me was icy, a mixture of annoyance and defiance. She sighed, standing reluctantly.

"Hey, chill out! Go home, get some rest. Our journey hasn't ended yet. We both have each other's numbers. I'll call you, and we'll continue our journey, okay?" Siddharth said, his tone light, yet strangely confident.

Their journey?

What the hell was he talking about? They had met minutes ago.

I was officially confused and furious.

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