His Brown Bride

26

Rajiv's POV














Relocating the company to Mumbai has been one of the best decisions I've made.

We no longer have losses. In fact, we generate more revenue daily than we did when it was in Banaras.

Tomorrow, my assistant told me we'd be meeting with a group of the most successful businessmen in India who are interested in offering us a contract.

I turned to the last page in her diary.

I've been reading it, and today I'll finish it all.

Her diary revealed a life of unimaginable pain—a pain that I had been blind to, a pain that I had unwittingly contributed to. Being with me didn't make it any less difficult for her; rather, it seemed to have made it worse. She endured so much.

When she was made to drop out of school, she initially didn't mind, but watching her siblings go to school every day made her realise her own desire to learn. She begged her father to let her return, promising to never fail again. But instead of support, he responded with brutality, beating her and telling her he wouldn't waste his money on someone with no future.

She spent most of her days with her mother, comforting her when her father vented his rage at her.

But when she cried, she cried alone, in the darkness, with no one to turn to. There was no one to hold her or tell her everything would be okay.

She wrote about the day a man followed her from the market and how she tried to flee, fearing for her safety. But when she reached home, her father's response was not protection but further abuse. He beat her with his phone's charger, leaving her with scars and forcing her into isolation for months, denying her even food.

Her father's cruelty knew no bounds.

He isolated her, denied her food, and left her to rot. And I, the one who was supposed to love her, also did nothing less.

Guilt and shame consumed me, threatening to destroy me from the inside.

No one cared when she was sick, and she was always discriminated against by her family. Even her mother, whom she loved and wanted to connect with, was never present in her times of need.

She was never asked about her likes or dislikes. Her life was a constant struggle, and it's not pity or remorse I feel, but a deep regret for not being able to support her when she needed it most.

If I ever have the chance to meet her again, I will make sure to offer her a safe and loving space to return to, if she wishes.

Her heart is pure; her heart is clean.

I know I had told her she wasn't my choice because of her dark skin, but after Divya told me I was also not her choice, I started to see things differently. It made me realise something.

In her diary, she mentioned that if she had the choice, she would rather chase her dreams than marry, but she could compromise to leave the torture in her house, hoping to find solace with me.

I don't even know what her choice is, but despite everything, she was ready to compromise and be with me.

If she was ready to adjust, I know I can too. I want to give our relationship a chance.

Truly, if I meet her again, I will tell her we could marry again, and this time, we could work on it.

I will never hit her like her father, because I know the pain it inflicts all too well.

My grandmother's countless slaps at my mother still resonate with me, and though I wasn't the one being hit, I felt the impact deeply.

That's why I've promised never to raise a hand on any woman.

•••••

It's morning, and I've just arrived at the company.

My assistant confided in me, "They're already here, waiting in the conference room."

I glanced at my watch and saw it was exactly 8 a.m.

I smiled, impressed by their punctuality. "They're very prompt," I said.

She nodded in agreement. "Yes, it was a surprise to me too."

I headed into the elevator and made my way to the conference room.