His Wife Of Forcèd Fate ✓

Chapter - 5

Her POV

Her first night at her new house was lonely and sad. It felt like every one was mourning something she could definitely decipher. Her husband never once entered the room after he left. At first she thought he would come in his room or where else he was suppose to go. But he didn't. She was awake till late midnight and finally tried to close her eyes on the couch lying in side of the room. She didn't wanted to take his space and to come between his path. It was an odd feeling, avoiding her own husband on their wedding night.

She was wearing a white cotton suit , the colour she wasn't supposed to wear after her marriage. But what was normal in this marriage. So she also indirectly mourned the loss of her sanity, her lover who has not ever loved her.

"This was her wedding night, so tragic" she thought, she definitely hasn't planned doing this on her wedding day. Well obviously this wasn't a normal marriage. But she thought what could have been if she had married normally and married the guy she was to be wed to.

But she was also very calm that her "husband" has decided to not spend the night in the same room as hers. Because it definitely would have been very awkward or they both could have definitely said something to each other that would hurt them. She was in peace because of his decision.

She didn't even noticed but she finally fell asleep in all the thinking and mourning.

His POV

My all efforts to convince my parents to not share same room with her was futile. They won't even budge. And why would they whole lot of relatives were present in the house. They (his parents) definitely care more about their image then my comfort or my peace.

I can't share a room with her. I won't be able to. Even if I try to convince my self. My own consciousness will haunt me.

But I definitely needed my stuff from my room. I prayed to God that she would not be in the room. But ofcourse that wasn't going to be heard. It felt like every one was pushing us towards each other who didn't want to do anything with each other.

Yup, she was there in my room in my wife's room. A room which my wife has decorated
with so much love and passion. My so called " new wife" was sitting in same room. As I watched her sitting there, attempting to make herself comfortable in a room that held a significant place in my heart, my emotions were a conflicting mess. This room wasn't just any room; it was a space filled with memories of my late wife, a woman I had loved deeply. Every corner, every piece of furniture, carried the essence of our time together. Her eyes closed but as soon as she sensed my presence she quickly stood up from the chair she was sitting on.

Seeing her straighten up and blush in embarrassment only fueled my irritation. Did she not understand that this space was reserved for my late wife cherished memories and not for her to casually settle into?

As I stood in the doorway, my initial shock changed into a growing frustration, a bitter taste lingering on my tongue.

"What are you doing in here?" I demanded, my voice sharp with disbelief.

Her surprised expression told me she hadn't expected me so soon, her voice barely a whisper as she explained her presence. My brows furrowed in disbelief at her words. They left her here? I couldn't understand the audacity of my relatives and mother, thrusting her into a space that held so much significance in my life.

I fought to contain the rising anger within me, the weight of their actions pressing down like a heavy burden. This room, my late wife's room, was sacred to me, filled with memories that I held dear. And here she was, an intruder in a space she had no right to claim.

"Well, that's just great," I muttered bitterly, unable to mask the resentment in my tone.

Her fallen expression tugged at something within me, but I pushed it aside, unwilling to show any sign of weakness. Instead, I met her etes head-on, my words cutting through the air with a deliberate coldness.

"Don't bother trying to settle in," I stated firmly, my voice devoid of any warmth. "This is my wife's room, not yours."

She hesitated, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something. But before any words could escape, I turned my attention to my belongings, scattered around the room. I tried to focus on gathering my things, attempting to ignore the presence that seemed to loom over the space.

As I picked up an item and placed it into a bag, I could feel her
gaze still on me. It was unsettling, this mixture of scrutiny and the unknown.

When our eyes locked, I could tell she was curious about me, but also being careful, like she was trying to figure out what I was thinking, just like I was wondering about her.

As I spoke harshly, I couldn't help but glance at her. Her expression changed from surprise to hurt really fast, like my words had hurt her feelings. Her cheeks got redder, but it wasn't from being embarrassed anymore. Instead, her eyes showed both confusion and sadness.

It was clear she didn't get why I was being so rude all of a sudden. My words seemed to have hurt her more than I wanted, and I felt a little sorry about that. I wanted to keep my distance from her, to stop us from getting closer, but the way she looked at me made me wonder if I was doing the right thing.

In that quick moment, I could see that she was feeling vulnerable. She was trying to understand the room and how I felt, and I was just being mean about it. The hurt in her eyes hit me in a way I didn't expect. It reminded me of a part of myself I tried to hide under a tough exterior.

As I turned to leave, I felt kind of bad about what I had said. I could feel the weight of my actions on my shoulders. Her reaction made me realize that maybe I had gone too far. I meant to keep her away, but now I was starting to think that I was hurting her more than I thought.

Even though I walked away, her sad expression stayed in my mind. It made me think that maybe things weren't as simple as I thought. My own mixed-up feelings matched the confusion I could see in her, and I started to wonder if what I was doing was really the right thing.

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