Loving HIM Unconditionally

Broken

Another update for you guys today. I hope I will get to see 70+ votes on this chapter at least!! Much love to you all! :)

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Devyani's pov -

Feeling a bit of confused, I closed my laptop, leaving my unsuccessful search behind.

The evening shadows deepened as I sat in our room, surrounded by the silence that seemed to echo the mystery I had stumbled upon. My mind was full of questions.

A nagging thought came into my mind - if Dev wouldn't tell me, maybe his study room could give me the answers I needed.

I made my way to Dev's study room once again.

The air seemed charged with anticipation, and the warm glow from the setting sun cast a mysterious ambiance over the mansion. Inside the study, I began my search anew.

I carefully scanned every shelf, every drawer, and every corner of the room. The weight of secrecy hung in the air as I shifted through papers and documents. My eyes caught the worn-out diary once again, I had discovered earlier.

Hesitation gripped me about opening the diary again or not. Should I confront Dev about it? Should I dig into a difficult past that seemed delicate and full of hidden hurt?

In the end, I chose not to. Trust was fragile, and I didn't want to risk ruining the small steps me and Dev had taken to reconnect.

Turning my attention back to the mystery at hand, I resumed my search for any clues related to Mrityunjay's death.

That's when I stumbled upon a bundle of pages tucked away in a corner of the drawer. As I unraveled them, a series of sketches unfolded, each portraying the sketches of a girl and boy similar to the sketch which I found in the diary.

The sketches were diverse, capturing moments of intimacy and shared laughter. In some, the boy and the girl were seated together, while in others, their hands were entwined, the girl was kissing the boy's cheek.

My heart raced as I contemplated the significance of this newfound information.

"Who are they?" I said while looking at the drawings. In all of them, the faces of the boy and the girl were shown from the side, not clearly drawn.

My eyes again went towards the worn out diary. Hesitation gripped me, but the pull to find the answer of the unanswered questions was stronger.

Maybe I'll find clear pictures of their faces in this diary's sketches. With a deep breath, I opened it.

The familiar sketch of a boy proposing to a girl greeted me, along with the poignant poetry. But this time, my gaze was drawn towards a different section.

I turned the pages of the diary to see what is there in it. As I turned the pages of the diary, I found few more poetries written in the pages of the diary.

I turned the pages more and found another sketch in which the boy was kissing the girl.

As I moved towards the last few pages of the diary, I stumbled upon another sketch that sent shivers down my spine - grey eyes staring at me, a sharp jawline with defined cheekbones, and thick eyebrows, with a smile on face.

The familiarity of the features sent my heart racing as I looked at the sketch in front of my eyes. It was a face etched in my mind, and the realization hit me like a thunderbolt.

No, no, no, no, it can't be true. Please god NO! Tears welled up in my eyes looking at the sketch, and I fell on the floor, my heart shattering into pieces.

The sketch resembled Dev. It resembles the younger version of him. My heart ached as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The boy in all sketches was none other than Dev, my Dev.

My eyes landed on the sketch again, the girl was with him in the drawing, her head resting on his shoulder, and her face hidden behind her hairs.

At the bottom of the page the name "Diya" was written in bold words.

My heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces and a pang of realization hit me - all the sketches depicted a love story, a connection between Dev and Diya.

The emotions conveyed through the drawings were raw and genuine. I found myself tracing the lines of each sketch, feeling the depth of their unspoken bond.

The man I was growing closer to had been in love with someone else in his past.

As I traced the lines of the sketches, I couldn't help but wonder if I could ever fill the void that Diya had left behind.

Closing my eyes, I took a moment to absorb the emotions swirling within me.

The realization that Dev had experienced a profound connection with someone else before me left me breathless.

The sketches, the poetry, and the name "Diya" echoed in my mind, painting a picture of their love in my mind.

More tears welled up in my eyes as I grappled with the emotional turmoil. I felt a mixture of pain, betrayal, and empathy for the man I had been married to.

The weight of the untold story, the hidden chapters of Dev's life, pressed heavily on my shoulders.

Torn between my growing feelings for Dev and the unsettling discoveries about him, I couldn't shake off the persistent questions echoing in my mind.

The thought lingered - was he still in love with her? He might still love that girl, that's why he doesn't want me.

Is it possible he's still in love with her?

Of course he still loves her that is why all these sketches of her are still here in his study room.

What if he can't forget her?

So many questions filled my mind but the biggest question was, where is Diya? If he loves her, why did he marry me?

Closing the bundle of sketches and the diary, keeping them at their places, I took a moment to collect myself and left his study room.

As I walked into our bedroom, memories of moments with Dev flashed before my eyes.

We might not have many happy memories, but every moment spent with him meant something to me.

Right from the beginning, I knew he didn't like me. I knew he would accept me as his wife, but he would never love me; he had made that clear from the start.

I was the one who had told him, "Manzoor hai Dev, agar aapko mujhse kabhi Mohabbat naa bhi hogi to, kyonki mere akele ka pyaar kaafi hoga, hum dono ke liye." (It's okay, Dev if you never love me, because my love for you alone will be enough for both of us).

Then, why does it hurt so much? I wondered, looking at his large portrait on the bedroom wall. 

I approached it and touched his face with tears in my eyes.

"Why does it hurt so much, Dev? Why?" I asked, closing my eyes as more tears filled them.

As I closed my eyes, the bedroom door got opened, and I heard a voice saying, "What is hurting you, Biwi?"

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