Rajiv's POV

"Rajesh." I held his hand again, holding him back.

He wants to leave the house for good because our grandmother gave her blessing for his marriage to proceed.

"This is absurd, seriously. I'm not in support of us leaving, but at the same time, we won't sacrifice our love for her happiness." Divya supported him, and I released a tired sigh.

Both of them were too stubborn, and neither was willing to listen to me or see things from my perspective.

"You heard her," he said.

"Why should I be the only one forced into this arrangement? She's allowing you to pursue your business goals, so I want the same freedom—to build my life with my chosen partner, Divya, not some stranger she's selected for me."

"The right decision is to let us go," Divya added.

"We promise to return after we're married, and I'm confident we'll be welcomed back with open arms." She spoke reassuringly, trying to win my approval, but I remained unconvinced, my doubts and principles still winning over my compassion.

"Mother will be heartbroken, Rajesh," I said.

"I already told her that marrying anyone other than Divya would break my heart," he replied with no remorse. "But she didn't care about my feelings, so why should I worry about how my leaving will affect her?"

I sighed, shaking my head, and watched as they left the house, my heart hurting.

I returned to my bedroom, feeling disappointed and helpless.

I reached for my ex-wife's diary, wanting a distraction from reality.

Something compelled me to open it, hoping it would help me escape from the sorrow of Rajesh's departure, and the company's losses that increase daily.

After I opened the first page in the diary, the first line perfectly explained my emotions, which was, "Every separation hurts deeply, and the pain stays there forever until you're reunited with the person."

I read on, curious to know her experience.

"My sister got married today. We both cried, unable to bear the thought of being apart from each other. She's the only one at home I'm truly closest to, and now Father has taken her away from me too."

I sighed, knowing it was wrong to read her diary without her permission, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I continued reading.

"Father is truly a heartless man," she wrote. "He sent her away with a smile, telling everyone he'd gotten rid of one burden and would do the same with the rest of us. I'm crying! I will never forgive him. He slapped me, and I hit my head on the wall, causing it to bleed because I forgot to change his bed covers earlier. I was still grieving my sister's departure and forgot. I wish someone would ask me how I'm feeling, really ask me, and care about my answer."

I turned to the next page and continued reading. "I'm so sorry, I forgot about you. So much has happened since I last wrote, and I haven't had the time or energy to keep up with writing to you. Father took me out of school, saying my education is pointless because he thinks my future is dark, just like my dark skin because of my poor grades this term. To be honest, I struggled to focus in class because I still miss my sister dearly. She was always there to help me with difficult topics. I'm not sure how I feel right now. I'm not sad, but I'm not happy either. On the bright side, I won't have to face my classmates who bully me daily because of my skin tone. Mother is calling me, so I have to go for now. I promise to write to you more often, dear diary. Bye."

"Not just me, nobody can bear to sleep beside you. You're a darkness, a curse, a harbinger of misfortune and suffering. You're like the darkest, most miserable nights, bringing only misfortune and suffering." The words, my own words, echoed in my mind, and I remembered the hurtful things I said to her on our wedding night.

Now, I'm consumed by regret.

My hands clenched my hair, and I cursed under my breath, feeling remorseful.

"I wish I could apologise," I thought, and my eyes closed while her words resonated deeply in my mind, which were, "I wasn't the darkness you made me out to be. I didn't bring suffering into your life. In fact, look at where you were when we met—you had nothing. And look at you now. I may not have been the sunshine you needed, but I was never the darkness you claimed."

Her words cut me deep, and I wished I could turn back time and make things right.

And she was correct.

When she entered my life, everything fell into place, and fate started to smile at me.

But after she left, my world started to crumble, and the business started facing losses.

"She was neither darkness nor a harbinger of misfortune and suffering," I acknowledged.

Rather, her departure had brought the darkness and suffering to me, not the other way around.