Ch9Tears Unspoken, Guilt Unseen #3
I ripped my hand away from hers as if shocked by the touch, my voice cold and brittle. "Go. Leave this place, Rivanya. Before my anger falls on you."
She tried to steady her voice, still anxious. "Did you have an argument with your father? Maybe he only wants what's best for you. Please let it go and eat something."
Hearing Pratap Raj Vardhan's name again stoked the fire inside me.
I stood up, fury replacing any restraint.
"Do you even know anything about him? Don't think that marrying me gives you any right over me. No. Rivanya Bedi I will never accept you as my wife in my heart. You may be my suhaagan on paper, but you will never be my ardhangini."
Those words left my mouth like a blade. In a single motion I hurled the food tray to the floor. The plate shattered; the clatter echoed through the room. Rivanya recoiled, terror and hurt flooding her face. Tears sprang to her eyes. Without another look, she ran out, sobs breaking with every step.
After Rivanya left, the truth hit me like a punch it hadn't been her fault. She had done nothing wrong, and yet she had become the target of my rage. That realization cut deeper than anything else and darkened my mood even further.
I wrapped my bloodied hand with a handkerchief, the damp fabric clinging to my skin. I snatched up my car keys and walked out without waiting for the driver. I didn't want anyone with me. I needed the wheel, the road, the speed something to channel the wildfire inside.
I slammed into the driver's seat and pushed the engine hard.
The city blurred past; the tachometer climbed and my anger rode every mile.
My knuckles were white on the steering wheel, my jaw rigid.
Thoughts tumbled through my head images of Rivanya's bowed head, her trembling hands, my own impulsive touch and with every flash my guilt and fury tangled tighter.
The road felt like the only place where I could keep moving and not have to look at what I had become.
After some time minutes that felt like hours I pulled into the parking lot of my business office. The world outside the car felt sterile and distant, as if I had left a version of myself back on the street. I stepped out, each movement measured, my face set into a mask so hard no one could read it.
People glanced up as I walked past, sensing the storm smoldering beneath my calm, but none dared to approach.
I ignored the curious looks, the tentative nods, the whispered conversations.
I moved through the lobby on autopilot and took the lift straight to my cabin, closing the door behind me with the heavy click of finality.
Inside, I stood for a long moment, the city's hum leaking in through the glass.
I forced myself to sit at my desk and tried to concentrate on work, on spreadsheets and meetings and contracts, but the numbers blurred.
My hand wrapped tight in the handkerchief ached, and with it my conscience.
Every attempt to focus was interrupted by the replay of what had happened, by Rivanya's frightened face, by the taste of shame.
I buried myself in papers, answering emails with a practiced detachment, pretending to be the composed executive I was expected to be.
But beneath that fa?ade was a man who knew he had crossed a line and was terrified of what that meant.
The office might have held my duties and my power; it could not, however, erase the memory of what I'd done or the knowledge that the one person I was meant to protect had been hurt by me.
Time Skip:
I had been working nonstop, without thinking about anything else, and I didn't even realize that evening had come and darkness was settling outside.
I shouldn't have behaved the way I did with Rivanya. It wasn't her fault at all. In fact, she didn't even know anything about our family.
As her husband, it's my duty to protect her.
I pressed my hand to my forehead out of frustration. I needed to go home now and talk to Rivanya. Today, for the first time, she had cooked food for me, and I had thrown it away. Now, it was my responsibility to make it right with her.
With that thought, I left the office and drove straight to my mansion.
All the family members were in their rooms, and the servants were busy with their work.
I searched the entire house for Rivanya, but she was nowhere to be found.
I asked a servant where she was, and he told me that since I had left in the afternoon, Rivanya had locked herself in her room and hadn't eaten anything.
Hearing this made my heart skip a beat. What had I done? The one person I never wanted to hurt, I kept causing pain to repeatedly. Now, it was my responsibility to make Rivanya happy again. I promised myself that I would bring a smile to her face.
With that determination, I went straight to the kitchen and began serving the food she had cooked on a plate. The kitchen staff watched me in surprise no one had ever seen me in the kitchen before. Ignoring their astonished looks, I carried the plate upstairs and stopped in front of her room.
From inside, I could hear the faint, quiet sound of Rivanya crying. Hearing that caused a sharp pain in my heart. Why were her tears so restless? Why did they hurt so much?