Tying The Knot With Ex's Brother

WOUNDS AND WINDOWS

Sparsh stood at the window of his room, the divorce papers in his hands. He hadn't slept all night. His mind echoed with every word Ragini had said. The way she had pulled her hand away. The way she had said she hated him. That she had signed the papers.

He clenched his fists, watching the early light creep through the trees outside. "I was supposed to protect her," he whispered. "And I failed."

Sid stepped into the dining room cautiously. The moment Jeevika saw him, she rose and walked out without a word. Papa didn't even glance his way. Only Ma gave him a tired look-and a single nod-as if to say, "You're still my son, but I don't know who you are anymore".

"Where's Bhaiya?" asked Jeevika.

"He says he's not hungry," said Ma with concern in her voice.

Meanwhile, at Ragini's parents' home, she sat curled in a sofa, a cup of tea in her hands.

"Did he try to reach out?" her father asked gently.

"He did," she said. "But I blocked him."

"You still love him," her mother said, not as a question, but a truth.

"That's the problem," Ragini whispered. "Love doesn't go away. But trust? Once that breaks, it doesn't come back the same."

Her father placed a firm hand on hers. "Then let it take time. Heal first. Don't rush into forgiveness or decisions. Right now, protect your peace."

Sid stood outside Sparsh's door. He knocked once. No answer. Knocked again. Still silence. Finally, he stepped inside. The room was empty.

"I did this," Sid sighed to himself.

Just then, Jeevika stepped in behind him. "You did. And now it's time to fix it-not just say sorry, but actually change."

Sid turned around slowly. "How do I start?"

"By showing up. By being there every day and not running when it gets ugly," she replied. "Let him shout at you, let him slap you, let him taunt you. Let him do everything he wants to feel better."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. I saw him driving out."

Sparsh drove without knowing where he was headed. The city blurred past him-streets he had known forever now looked unfamiliar through the sting of sleepless eyes. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter each time a memory of Ragini surfaced.

He took out his phone-again. Scrolled through her pictures. Called-again.

Blocked.

Back home, Sid sat quietly in the living room. The television was on, but no one was watching. The volume was low. Ma sat knitting but missed every alternate loop. Papa read the newspaper, but the same page hadn't turned in fifteen minutes.

Jeevika entered, looked around, then said sharply, "We need to talk."

Everyone turned.

"This silence isn't helping anyone," she said. "Bhaiya is drowning in guilt, Ragini bhabhi is gone, and this house feels like a morgue."

"What do you want us to do?" Papa replied, folding the paper. "Throw a party?"

"No," she said calmly. "But we cannot pretend this didn't happen either. Sid is wrong-deeply wrong. But he's not the only one who has to fix things. We all need to start communicating again."

Ma looked at Sid. "You should talk to Ragini too. Just once. Even if she doesn't forgive you. She deserves to hear from you."

"I tried," Sid said. "She's blocked me everywhere."

"Then write to her," Jeevika said. "Or tell Bhaiya to try-oh wait, he won't even look at you."

Sid's face dropped. "He shouldn't."

At Ragini's home, she sat by the window, sunlight warming her tear-streaked cheeks. Her mother walked in with a small envelope.

"What's this?"

"It came for you," her mother said. "There's no name. Just a card."

Ragini opened it. Her breath caught as she unfolded a handwritten letter.

Ragini,
I know I've lost you. Maybe forever.
But you deserve more than silence. You deserve my apology.
I believed someone else instead of trusting you.
You tried to speak. I didn't listen. That's on me.
You were never guilty. Only I was.
If this is goodbye, then let me at least say this:
You deserved better. And I'm sorry.

- Sparsh

She folded the letter, tears welling up once again.

Her mother quietly placed a hand on her back. "You don't have to forgive him now. Or ever. But maybe you needed this."

Late that night, Sparsh returned home. His face was dull, eyes sunken.

Sid stood waiting at the entrance.

"I'm not here to justify anything," Sid said, "but I want to tell you something."

Sparsh didn't answer.

"I'm planning to meet her," Sid continued. "Tell her everything. The truth. From me."

Sparsh finally looked at him. He didn't reply. He just walked past Sid and into his room.

But Sid felt something in that silence-not hatred.

Maybe a beginning.