Bound by Hearts

4. Forgiven not Forgotten

"Abhi..."

My voice called out unintentionally. Almost on auto pilot. He had become my habit in these two years. Yes, he became my habit. When you spend every second... every moment and every breath with one person. They become your habit.

Even though we hadn't started our married life with the best footing. He had given me the comfort I had yearned for. He had given me a sense of security and most of all he had helped me out of my nightmare.

He had held me while I had awoken in the middle of the night in a fit of tears. He had been there to hold me. To give me comfort. To push away the voices of the one who I couldn't name.

He had stayed awake for nights. Looking at me. Looking out for me. Just so that I could sleep. And at those moments I had felt the love. I had felt his love.

I had felt him as my shield.

"I promise to take care of my wife. Regardless of the circumstance."

No.
I was wrong.

It had not been Abhimanyu's love but his sense of responsibility. It had been one of the vows he had taken while we had taken our 7 phere around the holy fire.

It was his promise.
It was his duty.

Nothing more.
Nothing less.

And I had been foolish enough to think of it as love.

I had been so in love with him that I kept fooling myself repeatedly.

For him, I could pretend that I was happy when I sad.
For him, I could pretend that I was strong when I was hurt.
For him, I could pretend that I was alive when I was slowly dying.

For him.
Him.

Abhimanyu.

I had tried. I had tried my best to hide all my flaws. I had tried to be flawless. I had tried to be the one he could mold into someone he would love. I gave him my everything.

Just for him.
I tried to fit his standard... and be his type.
Yet, Abhimanyu was always perceptive. Perceptive enough to realise that I was trying to change. He had asked me for nothing more than plainly being myself.
Unapologetically Myself.

Maybe that's why I had always loved him.
He was kind... even in his dislike.
He was righteous... even in his hate.

And I had yearned so much for his love. That I would take anything he offered.

When your love in unrequited. You crave for that little affection. And you cling onto it. For a person starved in love even pity felt like love.

And that had been the reality of our Marriage.

My Love. His pity.

But, marriage is not just the wedding between two people. It is the relation between two families and it challenged my every learning when I tried to fit the standard of his family.

Even though our families had been friends for years. They were the stark opposite. His was conservative. Culturally strict and very rigid. And everything I did was wrong.

I let his family mold me the way they wanted.

Just so that everyone would be happy. I didn't realise how I had not just worked to become their perfect puppet but also didn't realise how dangerously I had changed myself.

I had become every ones doormat.

"Amara wear your ghunghat (veil) while in the presence of any other male except your husband."
Done.