The Secret Wife of the CEO

A Starlit Performance

As Bhargav felt the unexpected touch and the seductive whisper, he froze, his body tensing as myriad emotions surged through him. His initial shock soon gave way to a mix of disbelief and irritation when he turned around to see Anjali, his ex-fiancée, standing behind him—a ghost from his past he hadn't expected or wanted to confront, especially so far from home. "Bhargav," Anjali said softly, her voice laced with a familiarity that no longer held any comfort for him. She slid onto the bench beside him, her demeanor relaxed, as if their dramatic last encounter had been a minor misunderstanding rather than the life-altering event it had been. Bhargav's heart pounded louder, his emotions oscillating between anger and an old pain that he thought he had long since buried. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. "Anjali, what are you doing here?" Bhargav asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "How did you find me?"

Anjali's face turned somber, and she reached out, touching his arm in a gesture that he swiftly shook off. "I heard you were in town for business," she said, her voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry Bhargav, I've made a terrible mistake. Leaving you... it was the worst decision of my life." Bhargav shifted uncomfortably, creating distance between them on the bench. He couldn't believe she was here, rehashing memories he'd struggled so much to move past. "Your apology is 9 years too late Anjali. You left me at the altar. You didn't just leave; you embarrassed and hurt me and my family on what was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. And now, you find me here, years later, and expect what? Forgiveness? Understanding? Empathy?" Bhargav's words were sharper than he intended, his hurt resurfacing against his will.

Anjali's eyes welled up with tears, but Bhargav was unmoved. Her tears, once capable of commanding his emotions, now held absolutely no power, just plain disgust. "I fell into a trap. I thought I wanted more than what we had together — I sought fame, a life in the States, success, and wealth... I achieved it all but then I realized I was mistaken. Every day since has been a payment for that mistake, a constant reminder of what I truly lost—the warmth of your love and the comfort of your care, which were the best parts of my life." she pleaded, looking for a sign of softening in his eyes.

Bhargav turned away, his gaze sweeping over the park. "You chose to leave, Anjali. And what exactly do you take me for? A fool? We shared three years of what I thought was love. Clearly, you could not have genuinely moved on within a week of leaving me stranded at the altar. You lacked the courage and decency to be honest about us, about your affair with the director. Updating your social media status to 'in a relationship' just a week after our planned wedding day? No one who truly loves could do that so swiftly. You either never loved me, or you were deceiving me all along. That was your decision. Your choice alone," he said icily. "Whatever you're feeling now—this regret or whatever you choose to call it—that's yours to face. I've moved on. I am not the man you abandoned, and I have no interest in being part of whatever you are trying to salvage now."

Anjali's gaze sharpened, as she carefully measured her words, her tone casual yet calculated. "Look, Bhargav, I get it. I hear what you're saying, and you're entitled to feel that way. I just thought it might be beneficial for us to clear the air, not to revisit the past but perhaps to understand it better from each other's perspectives. I was just thinking, you know, maybe it's time we put all that behind us. Not looking to rehash old wounds, but maybe... Who knows what the future holds, right? Maybe there's a way we can both benefit from this encounter today. I've learned a lot over the years, and I think there could be mutual advantages to reconnecting." Her tone was smooth, hinting at possibilities, masking her true intentions beneath a veneer of practicality.

Bhargav's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed Anjali's carefully crafted words. He maintained a cool distance, his voice flat and resolute as he responded. "Anjali, there's nothing left to 'understand' or 'benefit from' between us. I've moved past what happened, and frankly, I see no value in revisiting or rekindling anything. We're not standing on common ground here, and there's no mutual advantage to be gained. I've built a life that I value with people who are genuine and supportive, and I have no interest in disrupting that for any potential 'possibilities'. Let's just leave it at this: we go our separate ways with no expectations. That's the best outcome for both of us. And I hope this is the last time I ever hear your voice or see your face ever in my wonderful happy life. Goodbye, Anjali." His stance was firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation or further discussion, signaling the end of their conversation and any potential reconnection.