Chapter 45
IRA
I stared at the papers in my hand, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
My eyes traced the lines again and again, though I already knew every word written there.
And every time I reached that word, the word that cut deeper than any wound, my chest ached all over again.
Divorce. This was not how I ever imagined my story with Prashant would end.
We had begun our journey hoping to be longer, but here I was, preparing myself for a final chapter I had never wanted to write.
Somewhere, I knew his family would be pleased.
His mother, Priya, never really accepted me.
For them, today might even feel like a small victory.
They would be there tonight, smiling, whispering, and watching.
I clenched my fists, not because of them, but because of Pari.
Sweet, trusting Pari. She had always been kind to me, innocent in all this mess.
And yet, because of my choices, she was the one who ended up hurt.
If only I could take her pain away, or at least apologize.
I dressed carefully, almost ritualistically.
A soft pink saree draped around me, matching glass bangles that clinked whenever I moved, a delicate line of kajal and mascara to frame my eyes, a small bindi to center my face.
On impulse, I reached for the sindoor and mangalsutra.
My hands trembled as I applied them as symbols of a marriage that was breaking even as I adorned myself with them.
When I looked in the mirror, a pang wrenched through my chest. The reflection staring back at me was that of a married woman, yet soon she would bear the label of divorcee.
I grabbed my purse and called Uber. Prashant had wanted us to arrive together, to step into the venue as a united front, but he had his family with him, and I could not bear their cold eyes in the car. Better this way.
Twenty minutes later, I stepped into the grand hotel lobby Prashant had reserved.
God knows how he managed money this time.
I looked around as it was lit with dazzling chandeliers and an air of expectancy that weighed heavy on my shoulders.
I spotted him across the room, engaged in a conversation with one of his colleagues.
But then his gaze fell on me, and in that instant, the world seemed to fall away for him.
His lips parted. His eyes widened. It was as if he had forgotten how to breathe.
His colleague followed his gaze and laughed, clapping him on the back with a teasing remark before slipping away. But Prashant stayed rooted, his eyes never leaving me.
I walked up to him with a small, practiced smile. Still, he didn't blink. I waved a hand, snapping my fingers gently in front of his face. "Officer, staring doesn't look very good on you," I teased, trying to lighten the weight between us.
He cleared his throat, but his gaze lingered. Slowly, deliberately, his eyes traveled from my head to toe, as though memorizing me all over again. His voice was low, raw. "You look like the girl I have always been in love with."
My breath faltered. For a second, my heart wanted to melt into his words, to believe them. But I steeled myself, hiding behind another smile. "You look handsome."
Before I could move, he pulled me closer, one strong arm wrapping around my waist. The sudden warmth of his body against mine startled me. He pressed a gentle kiss to my hairline, his lips lingering. His whisper was possessive, burning. "Today, the world will know you are mine. Only mine."
"Yes," I said softly, though my heart felt like it was shattering under the weight of the lie.
"Bhabhi!" A familiar voice rang out, and I tore myself out of his arms, forcing a bright smile. Pari rushed toward me, her eyes glowing. I hugged her tightly, guilt rising like bile in my throat.
"How are you?" My voice cracked.
"I'm fine." She smiled sweetly, stepping back to look at me. Her eyes scanned me up and down, filled with warmth. "You look so gorgeous tonight."
"Gorgeous, huh?" Priya's sharp tone cut in. She brushed past her mother, her smirk unmistakable as she walked away.
Pari, unfazed, giggled softly. "You've gained just the right amount of weight, Bhabhi. Look at those curves you've formed in the last two months."
I blinked in surprise, frowning. "I... gained weight?" I glanced toward the large mirror on the wall, turning slightly to check myself.
Pari nodded, eyes sparkling. "You're glowing. Honestly, you look... different. In a good way."
"Oh." I twirled slowly, studying myself with a mixture of curiosity and unease. She wasn't wrong. I had filled out a little, though I hadn't noticed until now.
"You look beautiful," Prashant's voice cut in firmly. He stepped forward, extending his hand. His eyes gleamed with pride, almost as if I were a trophy he had fought hard to win. "Come here..."
Hesitant, I placed my hand in his, his grip firm and unyielding. He guided me toward the stage, protective and commanding, as camera flashes began to erupt from every corner of the hall. My cheeks burned under the attention, but his face remained calm and proud.
The banquet hall sparkled with golden fairy lights strung like constellations across the ceiling.
Roses adorned every table in neat, perfect patterns.
Laughter mingled with the clinking of glasses and the hum of eager conversation.
Families, colleagues, and neighbors all gathered in one place, waiting for the announcement they believed would be a celebration.
None of them knew that beneath the glitter, a storm was quietly brewing.
Prashant lifted the microphone, his posture tall and confident. His smile radiated pride, so convincing it almost made me question my own truth. He cleared his throat, his deep voice filling the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, pausing just long enough to command everyone's attention. "Today is the happiest day of my life."
The room hushed instantly, eyes turning toward us. My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat echoing louder than the applause that was sure to follow.
Prashant continued, his gaze sweeping the crowd before resting on me. "I want the world to know that the woman standing beside me...." his voice softened, intimate, and my throat tightened, "...is mine. My wife. My strength. My everything. Ira Pandey."
A murmur of admiration rippled through the crowd. My name hung in the air, gilded by his words. Yet inside me, something cracked. Because even as the cameras flashed and the guests cheered, I knew the truth: this was not a beginning. This was the slow unraveling of an ending.
The hall erupted with thunderous applause, whistles, and cheers that bounced off the golden-draped walls like waves crashing against the shore. The chandeliers trembled with the sound, laughter and clapping spilling into the air as if joy itself had taken a physical form.
Prashant's mother rolled her eyes, her face disappointed and Priya murmured something to her mother which made my mother in law even angrier.
Beside me, sweet Pari clasped my hand gently. She leaned in, whispering words of encouragement I could barely hear above the roar of the crowd. Her touch was warm, supportive, unaware of the storm raging inside me. She thought this night was a celebration. She thought my smile was genuine.
And so I smiled too to mask the storm, but beneath it, my heart was pounding harder. My throat was parched, as if the words I carried inside had dried all the water in me. My palms were clammy against the silk of my saree, every nerve in my body screaming at me to act.
For one week, I had carried this decision like a burning coal. Every moment it scorched me, searing deeper, yet I refused to let it go until today because today, in front of all these people, I was going to let it burn everything down.
I took a step forward.
The sharp click of my heels echoed against the polished marble floor, cutting through the applause.
Slowly, I reached into my purse. My fingers trembled, but they did not falter.
When they emerged, they held the papers, the weight of them heavier than any jewel I had ever worn, heavier than gold, heavier than all the garlands and bangles the world could have offered me.
The applause dwindled into confused murmurs as I turned and held the papers out to Prashant. He frowned, his eyes narrowing. His hand hesitated before taking them, and as his gaze dropped to the bold title, "Divorce Petition." His breath caught.
A ripple of shock spread across the hall.
It was as though the sound itself had been swallowed by the walls.
Glasses hovered mid-air, untouched. A fork clattered onto a plate somewhere, breaking the silence.
Even the music that had been humming in the background faded into nothingness, as though it too understood the gravity of this moment.
I took in a shaky breath. My voice trembled at first but grew stronger and louder. "Yes, you read it correctly. These are divorce papers. I’m ending my marriage with you."
The gasps erupted in the entire hall. His mother's hand flew to her chest as if she was suffering a heart attack. Priya muttered curses under her breath and stormed forward, but Pari caught her wrist, her own face pale with disbelief.
I pressed on, my voice sharpening with the truth I had hidden for far too long. "I never imagined my marriage would end like this. I never imagined I would stand here, in front of all of you, to say these words. But sometimes the truth leaves no choice. I had no choice."
My gaze flicked to Prashant. His hands shook against the papers, his knuckles white as he gripped them. His jaw tightened, his throat working as though he was trying to swallow words that refused to come.
I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. "Prashant cheated on me. He broke the vows he made to me."
The collective gasp that followed was louder than any applause could have been. Women covered their mouths with their hands. Men shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Whispers slithered through the hall, carrying shock, judgment, and disbelief in every direction.
I looked at him again. The man who once held me when I cried, who once promised me the world, now stood frozen, stripped bare by the truth.
His proud shoulders sagged under the weight of his silence.
His lips parted, as though he might defend himself, but no words came.
For the first time, the officer who commanded respect with a single glance stood helpless, his authority crumbling in his own hands.
I glanced at Riddhima Kashyap, standing at the corner of the room with a pale expression. My voice softened, but it carried strength. "I will not name the woman. I do not believe in destroying another person's image in front of the world. My dignity, my pain, is mine to carry, not hers to bear."
My eyes softened, though my chest throbbed with every beat. "All I want is freedom, nothing else."
I turned slowly, each step deliberate as I walked away from the stage. The silk of my pink saree swayed behind me, my bangles clinking softly against the roar of whispers building around me.
"Ira..." Pari's voice trembled as she caught up to me, her hand grasping my arm. Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill.
I shook my head gently, managing a small, sad smile. "Please, don't defend your brother."
Behind me, I could feel his sharp and desperate gaze boring into my back almost begging me to turn around. But the distance between us was no longer measured in steps. It had become infinite.
I walked away. The pink saree, the mangalsutra at my throat, the sindoor in my hairline as symbols of a bond that had lost its soul remained on me. But they no longer owned me.
I chose myself again over everything.
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