Page 49 of Mrs. Pandey
She lied and manipulated everyone. She laced her venom into the ears of those closest to me, and they believed her. Because that's what Ira does. She makes people believe her lies.
And me? I married her.
Not because I loved her. Not even because I hated her. But because once again, I let her win.
I offered her a way out. I gave her the chance to walk away, to stay far the fuck away from me. But she didn't take it. No. She came back. And when she did, I made damn sure she saw what I'd become.
The version of me no one else sees. The monster that crawled out of hell with rage in its eyes and rot in its soul.
Because I was no longer that charming, golden boy anymore. That man died a long time ago. He bled out in silence, alone, buried beneath the wreckage of everything he lost.
What's left now?
Something unrecognizable. A shadow. A twisted version of who I used to be, made up of rage, regret, and a darkness so deep, it claws at my insides just to be felt.
For three months, I lived in torment. I saw things no one even wished to see that in their nightmare. I saw things I was unable to erase from my mind. I couldn't escape that and I couldn't escape me. Those three months changed me. Unmade me.
You don't just walk away from certain things. Some scars are too deep. Some memories were too vile. They infest your brain like parasites and feed on what's left of your sanity.
There were nights I wanted to rip my own skin off. Just to stop feeling and just to breathe.
But the mind? It's a prison. You don't escape it but you rot in it.
When I slammed the door open that night, I wasn't expecting to see her there. But of course she was.
Sitting on my bed like she belonged. Her back was straight, and chin high. She looked regal and defiant. Like a fucking queen taking back her kingdom.
She didn't flinch, and didn't move. Just stared at me like I was the villain in her story.
And maybe I am.
But she wrote this script.
She had the chance to walk away. The choice to leave me buried in peace. But she came back again.
Maybe she wanted the war. Maybe I did too.
Ira.
She was wrapped in a violet saree like temptation personified. She looked wild, beautiful, and untouchable. But I knew her. Underneath that icy calm, she was trembling. Because tonight was our first night as husband and wife. And I wasn't the man she remembered.
"Prashant, listen..." She stood up.
She barely got the words out before I crossed the room, closing the space between us in two strides. My presence cast a shadow over her. My silence was louder than any scream.
"You wanted to marry me?" My voice was quiet. It was too quiet, the kind of quiet that precedes a storm.
"Yes." Her voice was barely audible.
"Then why didn't you say yes three years ago?" I murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered at my touch. A response she couldn't fake.
"Because..."
I cut her off. "Because Aryan was still around, right? Because he didn't reject you. Because he worshipped the ground you walked on. Because he was your perfect boyfriend. Because he loved you."
"Prashant, please..." she whispered, her jaw trembling as she fought to hold herself together.
But it was too late for mercy.
