In a distant marriage with her brooding husband, Ayan, Adira Khanna has resigned herself to a mundane life. However, fate has different plans when Ayan's childhood friends plan a week-long trip to Goa. Little did Adira know that this vacation would...
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Chapter 29
Labyrinth
Adira
In our marriage's busy world, I felt like a lonely island, unnoticed and adrift.
I couldn't believe how hurtful their words were, slicing through me like a thousand tiny paper cuts. Despite my efforts, Ayan's mother seemed determined to expose every flaw, to magnify every mistake I made. It was as if she took pleasure in poking at my vulnerabilities, pinpointing my shortcomings with precision.
Exhaustion gnawed at me. I had literally burnt myself out to ensure this celebration was perfect, sacrificing my own well-being to make everything flawless. Yet, even my genuine efforts were met with her disdain.
I hadn't had a proper meal since morning. My feet were raw, blistered, and cut from those wretched high heels I had forced myself into. Yet, Ayan's mother's rudeness overshadowed it all. Her words were like acid, burning holes in my self-esteem.
Limping, I retreated to our room. Locking myself in, I finally let the tears flow. Each drop felt like a release, a way to cleanse the wounds their words had inflicted. The temptation to expose Ayan's affair, to confront his mother with the truth behind this façade, was strong. But I knew it would only escalate the drama.
And then there was Ayan. The man who should have been my rock, my partner, my support. Instead, he joined in the chorus of criticism, shouting at me as if I were wrong. He never stood up for me, never took my side. He never fulfilled even the bare minimum of my expectations from him. The role of the ideal husband seemed foreign to him, and I felt utterly alone in this marriage and the worst part was this wasn't the first time he made me feel like this.
His affair was a painful, suffocating weight that I carried with me every day, a constant reminder of the fractures in our relationship.
I knew I had made a mistake, if this was the life I was destined to lead – one of constant criticism, loneliness, and unfulfilled promises.
I sank onto the bed. The room seemed to echo with the hollow sound of my sobs, a symphony of pain and frustration that I couldn't contain within myself.
I wish I could leave this marriage, but there were a lot of stipulations and conditions between our families that didn't allow me to file for a divorce case. However, it was easy for Ayan. He even managed to get them, which were lying hidden in his desk at our apartment.
Lying in bed, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror opposite me. I saw an ordinary woman, her hair disheveled, silver stretch marks on her arms, thighs with a little more fullness, an hourglass figure that was thick, weariness etched onto her face, and smudged kajal. Staring back was a woman who felt weak and unremarkable, someone who seemed out of place within the Khanna family. Could this be the reason for Ayan's infidelity? Perhaps it explained my mother-in-law's discontent. Was this the underlying cause of my failed marriage?
