Page 146 of Mrs. Rathore

I smiled, sadly, and brought the perfume to my nose, inhaling it like it was my last breath, like it could anchor me to sanity.

I was angry at her. So angry, I had pretended she didn’t even exist in this house.

She had made her decision.

She decided to give up on our child, and I decided to give up on her. I didn’t want her in my life anymore. I couldn’t bear to look at her, knowing what she was about to do with our baby.

Two weeks ago, she told me her decision. But before that, we had gone to the hospital for a test to confirm the pregnancy. I had hoped, desperately, that it would be negative. That the test was wrong.

But it wasn’t.

She was two months pregnant with my child.

And still, she wanted to end it.

I had hoped, prayed that she would change her mind. That she would choose the family we could have had. That she would choose me and our child over her damn career.

But all I had were wishes. Nothing more.

Yesterday, when I told her I wanted a divorce, I’ll never forget the look on her face. That dreadful, and heart-shattering look, like I had hit her all over again, only this time not with a car, but with my words.

I had broken her. Not physically this time. Mentally.

She needed me to pretend like she wasn’t carrying my child. To pretend like she wasn’t about to end an innocent life.

But I couldn’t.

My grip on the perfume bottle tightened, and in the next second, I hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the scent flooding the room like a memory I couldn’t drown.

I stepped out, exhaling a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

It hurt, God, it hurt.

It hurt to breathe without her.

It hurt to think she was no longer mine. And it hurt more than anything how much I loved her.

Yes, I loved her. I loved my wife. The woman who had barged into my life and claimed it like it had always belonged to her.

I never told her how I felt, but I knew she felt it too. If only she hadn’t made that decision. If only...What a beautiful family we could have been. If only she hadn’t made that one irrational decision.

I dropped into the sofa, staring at the brown envelope on the table like it was my greatest enemy. My fingers itched to rip those papers apart, to dump them into the trash where they belonged because that was where I had thrown them before. But there they were again, sitting on the table, staring back at me like they had won. Mocking me.

What the fuck.

I was going mad, angry at a set of damn papers. They weren’t even living things, and yet I wanted to destroy them like they had ruined my life. I reached out and grabbed the envelope, ready to tear it in half when the doorbell rang.

“Avni…” I whispered, springing to my feet.

Maybe she changed her mind.

Maybe she came back.

Maybe she wanted to stay.

Maybe… she wanted to keep our child.

I opened the door, heart pounding and just like that, the excitement drained from my face.