Her Soft Hearted Psycho Husband

LOVE LASTS FOREVER-The last chapter

I was standing in the kitchen, preparing kheer—for the love of my life, or my ex-husband’s brother, or my friend’s killer.
He had been related to me through many relationships, but he would be remembered for his love for me.
Yet I was not blind enough to ignore the truth—that he was a murderer and a mafia leader planning to take the country under his control.
He had decided to wage a war and claim his own nation.
I was going to talk to him about this.
I heard the sound of a car. He was here.
I went to my room carrying the kheer, then finished my juice before he entered.
“I would have been very happy if you had drunk the juice, considering your health and our baby’s—if not for my sake. What will you do if I am not here, hmm?”
“Where will you go, leaving me alone?”
I asked, sitting on the bed.
“I won’t go willingly. But what if it is for my queen’s safety and happiness? I will do anything for you—even if it costs our relationship,”
he said, kneeling down.
“Just stop all this, Abi. Let’s start a new, peaceful life—you, me, and our baby. Just confess to the police. Dad will get you out on bail. What is the purpose of taking such a huge risk by going against the Indian government? I can’t even imagine what the guard said this morning.”
“I can’t surrender to those police dogs. To save you, I have to take this country under my surveillance,”
he replied in a serious tone, looking down.
“Is this kheer for me? Mmm… yummy,”
he said, eating it while I sat there, dumbfounded.
“I love you, Sita. The only person I trust my child with is you. I believe you will raise our child as righteous and courageous as you are. Always remember—you are a boon in my life. You always have been, are, and will be.
Don’t listen to anyone. When I committed an unforgivable mistake, my Sita asked me for an explanation. She stood by me against her beliefs, faith, and morals. She chose me over her father, her friend—even herself. In return, I chose her and my baby.
That’s it. I’m sorry for taking advantage of you that day. I don’t know how my insecurity pushed me into doing such psychotic things. I can’t justify them, and I can’t even ask for forgiveness. I can only accept punishment. Love you, babe.”
Saying this, he did one of the things he hated most—a forehead kiss. He never considered anything other than a lip-lock as a kiss.
He leaned his head on my lap.
I heard gunshots around the mansion. He smiled at the sound, his fingers gripping my saree tightly and pressing against my stomach.
“Love you,”
he whispered.
The police barged into the room, shouting,
“YOU ARE SAFE!”
“Did he admit his plans?” my ex-husband’s friend asked.
“No,”
I said, caressing his head.
“Let’s take him to the hospital. There, he will confess,”
I said, continuing to stroke his hair.
“Are you sure it won’t be life-threatening to any of us?” he asked.
“Yes. It won’t be,”
I replied, looking at his unconscious face.
We admitted him to the hospital.
The poison they had told me to give him was extremely powerful, yet despite its toxicity, he survived—just long enough to confess for me.
As soon as he regained consciousness, they allowed me inside.
Our last conversation was under surveillance, but nothing mattered at that moment except us and our love.
“Why are you lying to me? Why did you want to get killed by me?”
“Because only you have the right to kill me. I grant you that power. What did those dogs ask?” he said with a faint smile.
“They want to know your plans to attack the Health Minister. They want you to confess all your plans against the country.”
I asked everything the officers instructed me to, but all that mattered was his pain—his pale, weak body. I offered him water after taking a sip myself.
“That’s romantic… living my last minutes as I wish…”
Before he could finish, I kissed him.
“Don’t get diverted, SITA. The country needs your sacrifice,”
the officers instructed.
I turned off the Bluetooth and the mic.
“SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. YOU HAVE ALREADY RUINED ENOUGH,”
I whispered, panting.
“Why did you do all this?” I asked through tears.
“No tears, my brave lady. Life has never been fair to me, but I have always dealt with it morally. I made many mistakes in my pursuit of power and in trying to attain you, but I have never knowingly or willingly hurt an innocent person.
Rage and desire blinded me—but that doesn’t justify my actions. I accept my punishment from worthy hands.
Never trust these policemen. They are manipulated by that MP, and some work for him. They are trying to frame me for something I didn’t do. You know how much I love my country.
That politician is planning a terrorist attack with Pakistan to divert the allegations against him during elections. My army will prevent it.
You must stay safe—with our child. That is your mission.
If I live, I will be the reason for thousands of deaths. If I die, my entire army can leave this mafia world and live peacefully.
Now I will pretend to shout at you. Slowly inject the poison into the drip bottle, then leave. Okay?”
“Do you want me to accompany you after completing the assignment?” I asked, numb.
“Let’s meet after eighty years in heaven. I can wait in hell until then—and maybe get promoted before you arrive. He might promote me for my wife’s good deeds.
But I still don’t understand—if she is such a saint, why the hell did she marry another man?”
He tried to grab my hair, but the handcuffs stopped him.
As instructed, I injected the poison into his drip.
Our eyes remained locked, speaking what our hearts couldn’t.
I caressed his head as if it could soothe the pain I caused.
He slowly closed his eyes, gripping my saree.

And that was it.

The boon I begged God for became the curse I wished He would take back.
Once he was declared dead, the world believed it. His cremation was performed.This time, I truly killed him—and succeeded.
His body was cremated with thirty-six bullets fired into the sky as a mark of respect for his deed to the country.
Yet my heart refuses to accept the truth

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Author’s POV
She never knew why God denied him love for twenty-six years—and when he finally found it and was ready to return it, fate made him watch his beloved marry his own brother.
His rage blinded his love.

What was the purpose of realizing love so late—
Was it only for her to spend a lifetime agonizing over the fact that she killed the man she loved with her own hands?