The Rathore's Family

Divorce?

Ma, should I serve dinner for you?" Drishti asked softly as she entered the room where Anjali was sitting.

Anjali looked up, her eyes kind but tired. "No, beta. I’ll eat after some time," she replied gently.

Drishti nodded and hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside her. She fidgeted with her saree’s pallu, gathering courage. "Ma, can I ask you something?"

Anjali turned to her, a warm smile on her face. "Of course, beta. What is it?"

Drishti took a deep breath, knowing her question might reopen old wounds. "He betrayed you… yet you still wait for him, don’t you?" Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if treading on fragile ground.

Anjali’s smile faltered, her eyes clouding over as memories seemed to flood back. She smiled again, this time bitterly, her expression one of quiet resignation. "Some wounds, beta, don’t heal… and some apologies never come," she said, her voice carrying the weight of years of pain and resilience.

Drishti felt her chest tighten at Anjali’s words. She could see the strength in her mother-in-law, but also the sadness she carried like an old, worn companion. "Then why… why do you wait for him, Ma?" Drishti’s voice broke, her own emotions surfacing as she tried to understand a love so deep yet so unacknowledged.

Anjali looked at her with a mixture of tenderness and sadness. "Because sometimes, beta," she said softly, "love isn’t about the other person deserving it. It’s about who you are. And I… I don’t know how to stop loving him, even if he stopped being the man I fell in love with long ago."

"But Ma," Drishti said softly, her voice trembling with emotion, "I saw it… he didn’t just break you. He broke every person in this home."

A tear slid down Anjali’s cheek, and before she could wipe it away, Drishti leaned forward and hugged her tightly. "I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean to hurt you," Drishti whispered, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Anjali was about to reassure her when Advait’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and demanding. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

Drishti froze, her heartbeat quickening. Advait’s tone was harsher than usual, and she immediately pulled back, her eyes darting toward Anjali.

Anjali, sensing Drishti’s fear, quickly composed herself, wiping away her tears with forced laughter. "Nothing, Advait. We were just talking about something, and I got a little emotional. That’s all."

Advait’s piercing gaze shifted to Drishti, and she felt her breath hitch as his eyes locked onto hers. "What happened?" he repeated, his voice firm.

"N-nothing," Drishti stammered, trying to steady herself. "We were just talking, and Ma remembered something. She got emotional, that’s it."

"Bas," Advait interrupted, his jaw tightening as he turned his focus to his mother. "Drishti, go outside. I need to talk to Ma."

Anjali straightened, her expression turning defiant. "Why should she go outside? Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of her."

Drishti’s eyes widened, and she shook her head quickly. "No, Ma, it’s okay. I’ll—"

"Fine," Advait interrupted again, his tone icy. "Don’t let her go. But don’t try to stop me from saying what I need to say." His eyes flickered to Drishti briefly before returning to his mother. "I just want to talk about your husband’s 'accomplishments'—his endless betrayals, the mess he left us to clean."

Drishti flinched at his words, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her dupatta. She glanced at Anjali, who remained calm but visibly pained.

"Advait," Anjali said softly, her voice steady despite her trembling hands, "this is not the time or place for this."