She somehow reached the table near the sofa and grabbed her inhaler.
After a few moments, her breathing steadied and she slowly became normal.
She controlled herself, picked up the box, and opened it. Inside were a letter and a few smaller boxes. First, she opened the letter and began to read.
She was completely shocked. Her body started to shiver.
Dear Anshikha,
I am really, really sorry. I know that “sorry” can’t make things right, and I know it can never heal your broken heart.
Anshikha, please don’t skip this letter. I am writing to tell you about one important thing—an important and beautiful part of your life that you forgot.
I know I am stupid, foolish, an asshole, a jerk. I left you when you needed me the most. Please forgive me for not telling you the truth. I was so selfish… I am sorry.
Please read the letter inside the green box.
Anshikha was stunned.
What happened in those two years of my life that I forgot?
Her mind filled with countless questions, and soon her head began to ache.
“These questions are eating my brain,” she whispered.
With trembling hands, Anshikha opened the green box.
Inside were two rings, a letter, and a photograph.
A photograph of her with someone she had distanced herself from—someone she considered an eyesore, someone she cursed and scolded every day.
That person… was the one she had once loved.
Her hands shook violently as she opened the letter.
As she read it, tears streamed down her face. She was more shocked than ever.
Suddenly, fragments of memories rushed into her mind.
Her body froze—and then she broke down, crying loudly. Her heart shattered completely.
“What did I do?” she sobbed.
“I hated the person who loved me… who supported me.”
“I hated my love, Niya. Why did you do that? Why?”
“It wasn’t enough that you forgot him. On top of that, you cursed him, scolded him for a mistake he never made.”
“Why, Anshikha ? WHY?”
She cried continuously for three hours until her head throbbed with pain.
Finally, she calmed herself and began opening the other boxes.
She cried again—but this time, she forced herself to stay composed.
Afternoon
She sat silently on the sofa.
Her husband came home. He smiled at her, but as always, she sat there without any expression.
Disappointed, he said nothing and turned toward the bedroom.
“Rish.”
He froze.
Arush was shocked, but he replied softly,
“What happened, Ashi?”
“Rishi… I want to talk to you.”
Arush was doubly shocked.
First, she had called him by his nickname for the first time after marriage.
Second, in four years of marriage, this was the first time she had initiated a conversation.
But he didn’t know the biggest shock was yet to come—
that his dream, which he thought would remain only a dream, was about to become reality.
“Arush… I am sorry.”
He stared at her in disbelief.
When he saw tears falling from her eyes, a sudden pain pierced his chest. His throat tightened, and tears rolled down his own cheeks.
“Rishi… I… am… s-so… sorry…”
“I… I am so… sorry…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence and collapsed onto the floor.
He rushed to her, heartbroken. Seeing her like this shattered him. He had never wanted to see tears in her eyes.
“I… am… s-sorry…” she whispered again.
He sat on the floor and pulled her into his arms.
She clung to him tightly and cried.
For the first time, she felt safe in someone’s embrace—someone other than her parents.
She held him as if her life depended on it, as if letting go would tear her soul from her body. She buried her face in his chest, crying uncontrollably, feeling warmth and protection she had forgotten long ago.
Suddenly…
Author’s Note
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