His Wife Of Forcèd Fate ✓

Chapter - 22

After the Pooja concluded, a middle-aged woman in her fifties made a rather dramatic entrance that didn't go unnoticed by the other guests. Whispers of shock rippled through the room, and even her husband appeared taken aback by the unexpected arrival. Despite the surprise, he offered her a seat and extended the usual courtesies.

However, the woman's demeanor left no room for doubt; she had a score to settle. Her words carried a sharp edge as she addressed him, making her intentions abundantly clear.

"You know, I never accepted your invitations to the Pooja you hold in memory of my daughter," she began, her tone laced with bitterness, "But you persistently send them, year after year."

He, somewhat nervous, responded, "Well, you're here now."

The woman's reply was cold and unforgiving, "Oh, don't be mistaken. I'm not here for the Pooja. I know you're trying to repent for what you did to my daughter, trying to cleanse your image."

Caught off guard, he stammered, "I don't... I mean..."

The tension in the room was thick as unfinished sentences.

Her words cut through the air like a knife, carrying with them a heavy sense of accusation. The room fell silent, the weight of her grief and anger noticeable.

"I didn't come here because I forgave you," she continued, her voice firm. "I came here to see which girl you've replaced my daughter with. Weren't you the one who said you would not marry, that you'd live your life alone? Then why is it that you seem happy now, while my daughter struggled to even smile?"

Her questions hung in the air, leaving him with no easy answers. The pain and resentment in her words were a heavy reminder of the scars left behind by the past, scars that time had not healed.

She couldn't contain her bitterness, and it spilled out in her words. Turning towards her , she spoke with a cutting tone, "And who might you be? Another replacement for my daughter?"

She was taken aback, but still replied hesitantly, "I'm... I'm his wife now."

With a mocking laugh, she replied, "His wife? Well, my dear, you certainly have big shoes to fill. Don't think for a moment that you could ever replace my daughter."

She tried to defend herself, "I'm not trying to replace anyone. I love him, and he loves me." She lied as couldn't let this women believe this marriage was fake.

She scoffed, "Love? Don't talk to me about love. You're just a convenient choice after he swore he'd never marry.

She pointed at him with a stern expression and said, "That man isn't capable of giving love; he can only hurt and give pain." Her words were sharp, and she continued, "My daughter loved him, but he never loved her in return. It was her love alone that sustained their relationship."

Her accusations stung, and he remained silent, knowing that defending himself wouldn't change her perception.

"And look at you, trying to fit into a life that was once my daughter's."

She continued with her speech of hurtful comments, not giving her a moment of rest. "You know, my daughter was a gem, and she deserved better than this. She deserved a husband who would cherish her memory, not one who would move on so easily."

The tension in the room was noticeable as the she struggled to find the right words to respond to the hurtful remarks being thrown at them.

Her words carried a heavy weight of anger and despair as she turned her attention towards him. "I hope you don't think you'll find happiness after what you did to my daughter, after how you treated her," she seethed, her eyes burning with indignation. "And I hope you never find the peace and love you so desperately seek in this marriage. I hope you suffer."

His heart ached with the pain of her words, and he found himself at a loss for any response. The present wife, on the other hand, was left stunned by the bitterness of her words. She couldn't understand what he had done to his late wife to get such a reaction. It was a moment filled with bitterness and sorrow, leaving all present with a heavy heart.

With a final remark, she turned away from him, her voice dripping with anger "If you've moved on to a new life, then stop organizing these Poojas on my daughter's death anniversary," she spat. "Let her rest in peace and don't include her memory in your drama."

Her words hung in the air. It was a parting shot, leaving him with a sense of guilt and regret as he watched her walk away from the house,her anger and grief visible.

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Once the Pooja had come to a close and the guests had started leaving she found herself bidding each of them farewell with a somewhat forced smile.
With each departure, the weight in the house seemed to increase, leaving a heaviness in the air.

As the last guest made their exit, and the house fell into quiet emptiness, she turned her attention to him. He remained in the same position he had held throughout the ceremony. His eyes, brimming with unshed tears, were fixed on a distant point, as if he were lost in a sea of thoughts. The encounter with his late wife's mother had clearly left him deeply affected, and the emotions that had been stirred within him were now spread across his face.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure how to approach him in his vulnerable state. The tension between them was momentarily forgotten as she walked over to stand beside him. Her heart ached seeing his pain.

His tears falling like fallen stars, revealing the inner pain he was experiencing but not a single noise coming from him not even a sob. She couldn't fully understand his emotions, but she knew the encounter had brought back old wounds.

Gently, she touched his shoulder, silently offering her support. There were no words to make his pain disappear, but she wanted him to know he didn't have to face it alone. Together, they stood in the quiet aftermath, two souls sharing a complex journey, each dealing with their own struggles.

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