THE WALL
1194 Words
Aarav's POV
It was almost one in the morning when I finally came back home.
The drive had been aimless.
I hadn't really wanted to return.
Not because of the house.
Not because of the family.
But because returning meant accepting reality.
And reality was something I wasn't ready to face.
The mansion stood before me exactly as it always had.
Grand.
Elegant.
Perfect.
Yet tonight it felt unfamiliar.
Like I was looking at someone else's home.
The lights that had illuminated every corner of the house earlier had been dimmed. The decorations still hung from the entrance. Fresh flowers lined the pathways. Golden fairy lights blinked softly in the darkness.
Evidence of a wedding.
Evidence of a celebration.
Evidence of a future that no longer existed.
A bitter smile tugged at my lips.
If someone saw this house from outside, they would think a newly married couple had just begun their happily-ever-after.
The irony was almost laughable.
Because behind those decorated walls lived two strangers whose lives had been destroyed on the very day they were supposed to begin.
I pushed open the main door.
The silence greeted me immediately.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Almost suffocating.
The same house that had been overflowing with relatives, laughter, music, and endless conversations just a few hours ago now felt deserted.
My footsteps echoed through the empty hallway.
Every sound felt louder than it should have.
The decorations hadn't been removed yet.
Flower petals still littered parts of the floor.
A forgotten gift box sat on a side table.
A wedding photograph someone had clicked earlier was lying abandoned near the staircase.
I looked away.
I didn't want reminders.
Not tonight.
Not when my thoughts were already loud enough.
I loosened my sherwani collar as I climbed the stairs.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders.
But sleep felt impossible.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw kirti.
Every time I opened them, I saw the mandap.
The betrayal.
The humiliation.
The pity in people's eyes.
And then there was Inaya.
Quiet.
Silent.
Standing beside me throughout the chaos.
Not because she wanted to.
But because she had been trapped just like me.
I reached my room and stopped outside the door.
For a brief second, my hand hovered over the handle.
I didn't know what waited inside.
Maybe she would still be awake.
Maybe she would be crying.
Maybe she would hate me.
Maybe she should.
After all, I hadn't exactly been kind.
The memory of my words returned immediately.
"This marriage ends in one year."
"Don't expect anything from me."
I closed my eyes.
At the time, it had felt necessary.
A boundary.
A shield.
A way to protect myself.
Now, standing outside that room, the words sounded cruel.
Still, I pushed the thought away and opened the door quietly.
The room was dimly lit.
Only the fairy lights remained on.
Their soft golden glow painted shadows across the walls.
For a moment, I simply stood there.
Then my gaze landed on her.
And everything inside me stilled.
Inaya was asleep on the couch.
Curled into herself.
Small.
Fragile.
Almost childlike.
The oversized shawl wrapped around her shoulders looked inadequate against the night's chill.
A pillow rested beneath her head.
One arm tucked underneath her cheek.
The other loosely wrapped around herself.
As if she was trying to make herself smaller.
Trying to occupy as little space as possible.
My eyes slowly shifted toward the bed.
The sight made something uncomfortable twist inside my chest.
Rose petals.
Fresh flowers.
Decorative ribbons.
Fairy lights.
Everything remained untouched.
The bridal bed looked absurd now.
A celebration designed for love.
Occupied by none.
The contrast was painful.
The decorated bed stood there untouched.
And my wife slept on a couch.
Not because there wasn't enough space.
But because neither of us belonged in the fantasy those flowers represented.
A strange heaviness settled over me.
I looked back at her.
Really looked at her.
For the first time all day.
Without anger.
Without frustration.
Without the noise of my own pain drowning everything else.
And what I saw made my chest ache.
She looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The kind of exhaustion that came from carrying too much grief.
Slowly, I walked closer.
The floor creaked softly beneath my feet.
She didn't wake.
Her breathing remained steady.
Light.
Uneven.
As if even sleep couldn't fully calm her.
Then I noticed something.
At first, I thought I was imagining it.
But when I stepped closer, it became impossible to ignore.
The dark patches beneath her face.
Tears.
For a second, I just stared.
She had cried herself to sleep.
A strange feeling settled in my chest.
Not guilt.
Not exactly.
Just an uncomfortable awareness.
Until now, I had been so consumed by my own anger that I hadn't stopped to think about what this day must have been like for her.
She had been abandoned too.
Humiliated too.
Dragged into this marriage too.
The difference was that while I had shouted, argued, and made my feelings clear...
She had suffered quietly.
I looked away.
The realization irritated me more than it should have.
Because it was easier to be angry when she was just a stranger.
It was easier to build walls when I didn't see the pain behind her silence.
But now I had.
And I hated it.
Slowly, I picked up the blanket from the bed and draped it over her.
She shifted slightly in her sleep, pulling the blanket closer.
I immediately stepped back.
Distance.
That was important.
Very important.
Because sympathy was dangerous.
It started small.
A kind gesture.
A conversation.
An understanding.
And before you knew it, you were attached.
Trusting.
Believing.
Expecting.
I had already made that mistake once.
I wasn't going to make it again.
My eyes drifted to the untouched bridal bed.
The roses.
The fairy lights.
The decorations.
Everything felt ridiculous.
This wasn't a marriage.
It was an arrangement.
A solution.
Damage control.
Nothing more.
I glanced at Inaya one last time.
She looked smaller somehow, curled up beneath the blanket.
Fragile.
Alone.
And for the first time all day, I felt genuinely sorry for her.
But sympathy changed nothing.
Tomorrow morning, reality would still be waiting for us.
A one-year marriage.
Two broken people.
One room.
One complicated future.
I exhaled slowly.
No.
The smartest thing I could do was keep my distance.
For her sake.
And for mine.
The moment emotions got involved, things would become messy.
Expectations would form.
Someone would get hurt.
Maybe both of us.
And I was already tired of pain.
Without another thought, I turned off the remaining lights and sat on the edge of the bed.
Across the room, she slept quietly beneath the blanket.
A stranger.
My wife.
A contradiction I still couldn't understand.
I looked away immediately.
Tomorrow, I would be polite.
Respectful.
Fair.
But that was where it ended.
No friendship.
No attachment.
No expectations.
A wall.
That's what I needed.
A wall strong enough to keep both of us safe.
And this time, I promised myself, I wouldn't let anyone break it.
(lets see where life takes Aarav and Inaya)💫
- Writer
