17 ||The Unbreakable Trust

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Khushali stared ahead at the jammed road when she heard a tap on her car window. Her eyes were still swelled up and red, due to crying and because of that she was having a headache too. Wiping her tears off with her hands, she turned to look out of the window and saw a little kid in rags, staring at her with hopeful look in his eyes.

"Didi, thode paise de do. Maine bohat dino se kuch nahi khaya (Please give me some money. I didn't have food for many days)," said the little boy in a very sad voice.

Though Khushali knew the truth of the begging business in which some groups of hell greedy money lovers use little kids for getting money from people in public areas, she still felt sympathetic toward the boy and took out a note of ₹ 500 and gave it to him.

As soon as the boy saw the ₹ 500 note, his face lit up and with gratitude dripping from his voice, he said, "Thank you, Didi!!"

Khushali passed him a small smile and rolled the glass of her window up. Staring back at the road, Khushali wondered how simple and organised her life was, when Sagar was alive. No drama, no fights, no lies, no fears, no hatred, and now she didn't know where her life was heading. But she couldn't deny that her marriage to Sidharth did make her life better, though that's different than it was just like a mirage, a truth that she had been forced to accept, because of the reality of her husband that she was shown some time back.

And this made her eyes to water again, but she knew she couldn't let herself cry now, and needed to control herself for some more minutes. So wiping the tears which had fallen from her eyes, she gripped the steering wheel tightly and as the traffic cleared, made her way to that one place, she knew she'd be free to mourn for herself.

Ten minutes later, she reached her destination and parking her car, she made her way to that one place she was frequent to when her Sagar was alive, a small public park near, Sagar's residence.

Walking inside the park, she made her way to one of the benches installed in the park for the visitors and sat down on a double sided wooden bench. And just as she sat down, an array of emotions rushed through her as the memories which were associated with this place, hit her with such strong force that made Khushali realise that she was now free to cry her heart out.

Closing her eyes, Khushali lowered her head down and allowed a soft pain filled sob to come out through her till now sealed lips, which soon was followed by hysterical crying, as Khushali unleashed her pain, which she didn't have to numb now.

As the tears fell from her eyes, Khushali felt her heart break into more pieces than it already was. Each and every word that she had heard about her husband's infidelity and his crimes, continuously rang in her ears, her heart still refusing to believe that her husband could stoop so low and kill someone, who was his friend. Her husband Sidharth was someone, Khushali could never believe to commit such heinous crime. A murder? For what, a small ego issue, or a petty fight?

No, if the issue would've been bigger and indeed serious, even then Sidharth would've never done something like that. And how could he just kill someone and betray his own friend, his best friend who was like a family to Sidharth and the girl he claimed to had loved who was his best friend's sister?

But even then, Khushali couldn't forget the look on Mayera's face when she was narrating her brother's story to her. It was genuine and there was this air of sorrow surrounding Mayera when she was speaking of her family's tragedies and her own helplessness. This genuineness made it harder for Khushali to ignore Mayera's side of story, which sure enough, created a doubt about her husband's honesty and loyalty with her.

But what was tugging the hardest on her heart, was the fact that the person with whose blood Sidharth's hands were covered in those pictures was of none other than Khushali's first love, Sagar. How could Sidharth kill Sagar, who, to Khushali's best knowledge, was one of Sidharth's fast friends, if not really close.

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