REDEMPTION IN LOVE

AGONY AND SCARS

"It's over," I whispered to myself, barely believing the words.

After two years trapped in an abusive marriage, it's finally come to an end. As I stood in the cold, sterile courtroom, the weight of the divorce papers in my hand felt surreal. I had found a way out, a path to freedom, and yet, the scars of his cruelty were etched deep within me.

He might be gone from my life, but the shadows of his torment would linger in my mind, haunting my soul. The finality of the judge's gavel echoed in the empty spaces of my heart, a reminder of the pain that would take much longer to heal.

My mother gave me a gentle squeeze, reminding me that she was here. I looked at her and mustered a weak smile.

My father made a phone call, and within a few minutes, a car pulled up. The driver stepped out and opened the door for us.

I recognized him as our personal driver. He offered me a sympathetic smile, which only deepened my self-loathing.

I don't want anyone's pity; that's the last thing I need.

I settled into the car with my mother and father, the weight of the past two years pressing down on me. My thoughts drifted to the cheery girl I once was before everything changed. He destroyed my happy bubble, my colorful life, and everything I held dear.

In college, I thought we were meant to be together. How naive I was. I mistook his toxicity for possessiveness, believing it was a sign of love. If someone had told me two years ago that I would be this unhappy after marrying him, I would have laughed and thought them a fool.

But now, here I am, broken with nothing to cherish in my life.

I sighed, wondering how I would ever escape the haunting memories of the life I endured. Physically, I was out, but mentally, I was still trapped in that nightmare.

My mother placed a hand on me tracing me out from the thoughts. I looked around to see that we have arrived to our mansion.

It had been two years since I last set foot outside that house. My in-laws never permitted me to leave. In their eyes, I was nothing more than a captive, bound to their will.

I sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I had finally escaped that misery, though I knew it would take time to let go of my terrible past.

I told my parents I was going to take a shower and climbed the stairs to my room.

As I opened the door, a smile tugged at my lips. Nothing had changed; everything was exactly where I had left it.

My mom, must have ensured it was cleaned regularly, preserving it just for me.

I walked into my closet, selecting my clothes, I headed to the bathroom.

As I stripped off my dress, my eyes wandered over my body, tracing the scars that marked my skin. Some were fading, while others left a permanent imprint on both my body and heart.

A lone tear escaped my eye as memories flooded back, each scar telling its own painful story.

If I had confided to my parents earlier, I could have been rescued from that terrible marriage sooner. But my naive heart believed he would change, that he would love me as he did during our college days and look at me with the same adoration.

How foolish I was to think he would ever change.?

How foolish of me to believe he loved my soul.?

How foolish of me not to realize he only wanted my body, not my heart.?

How foolish I was to ignore all the signs when he pushed me to sleep with him during our college days.?

I hated myself for being so naive.

I pushed away the painful thoughts, knowing that if I dwelled on them, I wouldn't be able to think straight and might do something drastic.

As I turned on the shower, lukewarm water cascaded over me, making me flinch as it hit the scars that still ached.

I hated my body, covered in scars that told stories of pain and suffering. I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of disgust every time I looked at myself.

The thought of anyone else seeing these scars filled me with dread, convinced they would be repulsed by the marks etched into my skin.

All those thoughts weighed heavily on my mind, causing fresh tears to well up in my eyes.

They trickled down my cheeks, washing away the dried remnants of previous tears. Each tear felt like a silent testament to the pain and turmoil I had endured.

I could never imagine loving myself again, not after that monster had reduced me to nothing but a fragile shell. The weight of his abuse and manipulation lingered like a heavy cloud over my soul, leaving me feeling worthless and broken.

My heart sank at the thought of him, wondering how he could continue his life seemingly unaffected after he had completely shattered mine. It was a bitter realization that he might be out there, living freely while I struggled to heal from the scars, both physical and emotional, that he had inflicted upon me.

After my shower, I slipped into the comfort of casual clothes.

Settling onto my bed, I turned on the TV, seeking a distraction from the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind.

The news channels were already abuzz with the details of my divorce.

I hadn't wanted to attract media attention by revealing the true extent of my miserable marriage, so I had simply announced that we were parting ways due to irreconcilable differences.

"Breaking news today as Tanvi Singhania is no longer a Rajvansh. Tanvi Singhania has finalized her divorce from her ex-husband Rishi Rajvansh. The couple, who had been married for two years following a three-year relationship, have decided to part ways citing irreconcilable differences."

"Is this the sole reason for their divorce?"

Another news report swiftly followed, exposing Rishi Rajvansh's presence at a lavish party accompanied by another woman.

"How could he do this?" I muttered to myself, staring at the screen in disbelief. The sight filled me with a deep sense of hatred towards him, forcing me to confront the harsh reality of the man I once loved, now revealed as a callous and unfaithful monster.

As images of their glamorous outing flashed across the screen, I couldn't help but feel a surge of disgust mingled with profound regret.

How had I ever loved this monster? It was a painful acknowledgment of the shattered illusions I had clung to.

"I am not fortunate enough to find someone who truly loves me," I whispered to myself, the words carrying the weight of disappointment and longing.

_______________________________________

"Maa, I am coming back to India," I said as soon as she picked up the phone.

"Why, beta?" She answered and a hint of knowing, evident in her voice.

"To reclaim what's rightfully mine and to mend what I didn't break," I replied, my tone resolute.

In the silence that followed, I knew my mother wore a proud expression.

"Then come back fast to heal her," she said softly.

After a few more minutes on the phone with my mother, I finally hung up.

"I am coming back, Amore, to heal you," I whispered to myself, the words carrying the weight of a promise and the hope of redemption.