The newfound warmth between Kirti and Divit didn’t last long. A few peaceful days followed their quiet intimacy, but soon, Kirti noticed Divit slipping back into his cold, distant demeanour. He became evasive again, closing himself off, especially when she asked anything personal.
One afternoon, as she sat alone in their room, folding clothes, her thoughts kept drifting back to Divit’s mysterious behaviour. He was a puzzle she couldn’t seem to solve. Why does he always pull away? Kirti had tried to be patient, to give him space, but the more she learned about him, the more questions seemed to arise.
She recalled a passing conversation with Priya a few days ago when she mentioned something about Divit’s college days—about how he used to be into sports, boxing specifically.
Boxing?
Kirti hadn’t known that. Divit didn’t seem like the type who would have been into something as intense as boxing. The image of her composed, controlled husband in a boxing ring seemed... unlikely. But the more she thought about it, the more it intrigued her.
She decided to look into it. Maybe this could explain why he’s so guarded.
A few days later, Kirti found herself in the study, flipping through some old photo albums Divit’s mother had casually left behind. She hadn’t meant to snoop, but when she saw a picture of Divit standing with a group of boys in what looked like a boxing ring, her curiosity deepened.
In the photo, Divit looked younger and more carefree, and there was a fierceness in his eyes that Kirti had never seen in the man she knew now. What happened to him? Why did he stop?
As she continued flipping through the album, her mind filled with questions. Suddenly, she heard the door creak open, and Divit walked in, his expression immediately darkening when he saw the album in her hands.
“What are you doing?” His voice was cold, but there was a hint of something else there—something she couldn’t quite place. Panic? Anger?
Kirti closed the album quickly and stood up. “I wasn’t snooping,” she said, her tone defensive. “I just found this while cleaning.”
Divit’s jaw tightened, and he walked over, snatching the album from her hands. “These are old,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze as he shoved the album back onto the shelf.
Kirti took a deep breath. “Divit, I didn’t mean to pry. But... I didn’t know you used to box.”
His shoulders stiffened at her words. He didn’t respond, his back still turned to her as he tidied the shelf unnecessarily.
“Why didn’t you ever mention it?” Kirti asked, stepping closer, her voice softer now. “It’s a big part of your past, isn’t it?”
Divit finally turned to face her, his expression hard, his eyes shadowed. “Because it’s in the past, Kirti. It doesn’t matter now.”
“But it does,” Kirti pressed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It explains a lot about you. About why you’re so... closed off. Why you won’t let anyone in.”
Divit’s eyes flashed with something dark—anger, maybe, or hurt. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then help me understand!” Kirti’s voice rose, her patience wearing thin. “Why won’t you let me in? Why do you keep shutting me out?”
Divit ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “Because it’s not that simple!” he snapped, his voice louder than she’d ever heard it before.
Kirti recoiled slightly at his tone, but she didn’t back down. “I’m your wife, Divit. I deserve to know the truth. You can’t keep pushing me away every time something personal comes up.”
Divit’s chest heaved with frustration, and for a moment, he looked like he might lash out, but then his shoulders slumped, and the fight seemed to drain out of him. He turned away, running his hands over his face.
“There are things you don’t understand, Kirti,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “Things I can’t talk about.”
Kirti’s heart clenched at the pain in his voice. She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m not asking for everything all at once,” she whispered. “But you have to give me something. You can’t keep shutting me out.”
Divit stood there for a moment, silent, his back still turned to her. Then, slowly, he turned around, his eyes meeting hers, filled with a mixture of regret and something deeper—something she couldn’t quite read.
“I quit boxing in college,” he said finally, his voice low. “It’s not something I like talking about.”
Kirti waited, her breath catching in her throat. “Why?”
Divit hesitated, his jaw tightening again. “It wasn’t... by choice,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Something happened, and I had to stop. It’s not a part of my life anymore.”
Kirti frowned. “What happened?”
Divit shook his head, stepping back, pulling away from her touch. “I told you, I can’t talk about it. Just... leave it, Kirti. Please.”
Kirti felt her frustration building again, but there was something so broken in his eyes, something so fragile, that she didn’t push him further. She nodded, even though it hurt to be kept in the dark. “Okay. I’ll drop it. But just... don’t shut me out completely.”
Divit looked at her for a long moment, his gaze softening slightly. “I’m not trying to,” he said quietly. “But some things... they’re hard to talk about.”
Kirti nodded, her heart heavy. “I get that. But I’m here when you’re ready.”
Divit didn’t say anything more. He turned away, picking up the album again, flipping through it with a distant look in his eyes. Kirti watched him for a moment, the weight of his secrets pressing down on her, but she didn’t push. Not today.
As they lay in bed that night, side by side but not touching, Kirti couldn’t shake the feeling that there was so much more to Divit than he was letting on. What could have happened to make him quit something he clearly loved?
She knew this was just the tip of the iceberg, and whatever was buried beneath his cold exterior was something deep, something painful. But Kirti wasn’t one to give up easily. She’d gotten this far—she wasn’t going to stop now.
In the stillness of the night, as Divit’s breathing evened out beside her, Kirti made a silent vow. She would uncover the truth, no matter how long it took.
She wasn’t giving up on him. Not yet.
