The tension in the house had become unbearable. Kirti could no longer keep the secret she had discovered to herself. Every time she looked at Divit, her heart ached with the knowledge of what he had been doing, the danger he put himself in night after night. She had to confront him, no matter the cost.
That evening, after dinner, Kirti paced their bedroom, waiting for Divit to come in. Her nerves were frayed, her hands trembling slightly. She had replayed this conversation in her head a thousand times, but nothing could prepare her for the reality of it.
When Divit finally walked into the room, his face unreadable as always, Kirti felt her resolve harden. This ends tonight.
“Divit, we need to talk,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended.
He paused, sensing the seriousness in her tone. He slowly turned to face her, his brows drawing together. “What is it?”
Kirti took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “I know what you’ve been doing.”
Divit’s body tensed, his expression instantly shifting to one of guardedness. “What are you talking about?”
“I followed you,” Kirti admitted, her voice shaking slightly. “I saw you at the warehouse. I know about the underground fights, Divit. I know everything.”
Divit’s eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and anger. His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer to her. “You followed me?” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “Why would you do that?”
Kirti swallowed hard, refusing to back down. “Because I had to know the truth! You disappear every night, and you never tell me where you’re going. I couldn’t just sit back and pretend everything was fine!”
His anger flared. “You had no right to follow me. That’s my business, not yours.”
Kirti’s frustration boiled over. “I’m your wife, Divit! How can you say it’s not my business? How am I supposed to ignore the fact that you’re putting yourself in danger every night? Fighting like that—”
“You don’t understand!” he snapped, cutting her off. “You think it’s that simple? That I’m just fighting for fun?”
“Then explain it to me!” Kirti yelled, her voice cracking. “Help me understand, Divit! Because right now, all I see is a man who is willing to risk everything for something I don’t even know about!”
Divit’s fists clenched at his sides, his breathing heavy. The walls he had built around himself for so long were crumbling, and Kirti could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the pain he tried so hard to hide.
“It’s not about me,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “It’s about my family.”
Kirti’s heart softened, but the confusion remained. “Your family? What does the fight club have to do with your family?”
Divit turned away from her, running a hand through his hair. He was silent for a moment as if trying to gather his thoughts, his emotions too raw. “Everything,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Everything I do is for them.”
Kirti moved closer, her anger dissolving into concern. “Divit, talk to me. Please.”
He exhaled deeply, finally facing her. The hardness in his eyes melted, revealing the weight he had been carrying alone for so long.
“My family... they’ve been in trouble for years,” he admitted, his voice strained. “We have enemies—people who want to ruin us, destroy our reputation, take everything we’ve built. My father’s business is tied up in dangerous deals, and I got involved to protect them.”
Kirti stared at him, her heart aching as she realized just how much he had been hiding. “But why the fight club? How does that help?”
Divit’s face twisted with frustration. “The man who runs the fights... he’s powerful. He controls everything from the underground, and he has a hold over my father. I fight to keep us out of deeper trouble. It’s the only way I know how to protect my family.”
Kirti’s chest tightened. She hadn’t imagined the situation was this dire. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to get involved,” he said quietly, his eyes searching hers. “This life... it’s dangerous. I couldn’t drag you into it. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”
Kirti’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m already involved, Divit. I’m your wife. How can you think I wouldn’t care about what happens to you?”
Divit’s expression softened, the walls between them finally beginning to break. “I didn’t know how to let you in, Kirti. I’ve been so used to carrying everything on my own. I didn’t know how to share this with you.”
Her heart clenched at his vulnerability, and she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to fight for everything by yourself.”
Divit looked down at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and longing. “I don’t know how to stop, Kirti. I don’t know how to protect my family any other way.”
Tears spilt down her cheeks as she stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “We’ll figure it out together. But you have to trust me. You have to let me in.”
Divit’s breath hitched, his emotions finally bubbling to the surface. For the first time since their marriage, Kirti saw the weight of the world in his eyes, the immense pressure he had been under. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
At first, he stiffened, unused to such tenderness. But then, as if a dam had broken, he sank into her, his arms circling her waist, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Kirti.”
Kirti held him tighter, her tears flowing freely now. “We’ll get through this, Divit. We will. But you have to stop shutting me out.”
For a long moment, they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the tension between them replaced by a raw, unspoken connection. Divit pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her face, his gaze intense.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away her tears.
Kirti shook her head. “Don’t say that.”
Before she could say more, Divit’s lips crashed onto hers, desperate and hungry, as if he needed her more than air itself. The kiss was intense, a mixture of apology and passion, of need and release. Kirti responded with equal fervour, her hands fisting into his shirt as she pressed herself against him.
The emotions they had kept bottled up for so long erupted in that moment, their bodies seeking the connection they had both been too afraid to acknowledge. Divit’s hands slid down her back, pulling her closer as the heat between them grew.
They stumbled towards the bed, their lips never breaking apart, their hands exploring, desperate to feel each other in every way possible. Divit’s kisses became more urgent, his touch rougher, as if he was trying to make up for all the lost time, all the missed moments.
As they tumbled onto the bed, the world outside ceased to exist. At that moment, there was only them—Kirti and Divit, bound together by more than just a marriage. The raw vulnerability, the passion, the need—it all came crashing down around them, leaving no room for anything but each other.
And for the first time since their wedding, they truly felt married, not just in name, but in every way that mattered.
