His Unwanted Bride

✿ DOWRY ✿

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DHRITI

I played with the pen and pretended to look bored but in reality, my heart was jumping to my throat.

"Mrs. Hafiz." The psychiatrist smiled warmly at me.

"You can call me Dhriti." I cleared my throat.

She straightened her back and tipped her glasses. Her sleek hair tied up in a ponytail bounced a little as she opened my file.

She's too pretty. And she's a colleague of Saad. And most of all she might be in her late thirties which in terms of age is quite closer to Saad than I'm with him.

I snickered. Taking the therapy willingly, my ass.

I'm fucking fuming at the mere thought that when Saad dropped me here, he went to have a private conversation with her. A fucking private conversation.

"I know that this must be hard for you. When we survive the storm, we need shelter not comfort. And I promise I'm not here to force that comfort on you." She said.

"Then why are you here?" I snapped.
I bit on my lips at my reaction and breathed an apology under my breath. "I'm sorry. I don't have a decent track record when it comes to taking therapy and no offence but therapy means shit to me."

She maintained her professional smile and jotted down something on her writing pad. "Tell me something about your brother."

"He's an annoying shithead." I shrugged.

"Okay." She chuckled. "I feel the same about my little brother, though."

My eyebrows quirked. "I bet he didn't play high on his morals and left you for burning in the traditional flame of mighty dowry."

"My brother's still in high school." She replied.

"Good for you." I gave her a fake smile.

She closed her writing pad and then focused her complete attention on me. "What do you think about dowry?"

"Aren't you too straightforward?"

She shrugged. "Dr Hafiz gave me a warning beforehand that his wife's language is straightforwardness."

I swallowed the urge to mimic her words. Dr. fucking Hafiz went to have a private conversation with her and talked about his wife. How charming.

"I don't give a flying fuck about dowry. All I know is that it gave me scars on my body that I'm going to loathe for the rest of my life." I answered.

"Mhm" She hummed. "And what about the mental scars, Dhriti? When you think about your trauma, do you only consider the burnt marks on your body?"

I clicked my tongue. "Yes."

"Then what about your emotions? Do they not hurt you?" She asked.

I had an urge to laugh at her question. "I can pop a shitload of medication to adjust the numbers of major chemicals in my brain but is there a way to remove these ugly patches from my body, Doctor?"

Her eyebrows thinned but the soft smile on her face didn't fade. "Can I share something with you?"

I gave her a nonchalant nod.

"I married the man whom I loved for three years. It was back when I was in my residency years. I didn't come from a well-off background but my family was capable enough to sponsor my education. I was twenty-five and couldn't wait to marry him. Years back, dowry was quite common, and it is still but at that time, girls weren't taught how wrong it was. Maybe that was the reason why when my father sold our house to give dowry in my marriage, I was sad but not agitated. I was wretched for the house where I grew up but then I was told that it was for my benefit only. That the money is for my husband, my in-laws and my marriage. So, I put a smile on my face and went through the marriage. It's weird how I was actually glad for the dowry because when my in-laws treated me with kindness and respect, I forgot about the sufferings of my parents who were now homeless and lived in the village."