Meera – Anika’s mother-in-law – in an elegant silk sari, hair neatly tied, holding a wine glass. Her eyes swept over them with open disdain. – “Why bring chickens and vegetables?
We have no shortage of such things,” she shouted. Anika grabbed her hand:
– “Maa… please don’t speak like this before my parents…”
But Mrs. Meera’s tone grew harsher:
– “Marrying my son doesn’t mean you can bring rural folk into this home.
Know your place and don’t shame us!”
Mr. Raghav’s cheeks burned. Mrs.
Savitri stood frozen. Anika bowed her head, trembling. Choking back emotion, Mr.
Raghav said:
– “Since when has my daughter lived under such contempt? She told me she was fine, happy. Is this happiness?”
He grabbed Anika’s hand firmly, tears in his eyes:
– “Come home with me.
I won’t let you suffer here.”
– “But Dad…”
– “We may not have wealth or mansions, but no one in our family will treat you like a servant. I can’t bear this.”
Anika broke into sobs and embraced him. Mrs.
Meera tried to intervene, but he stood firm:
– “From today, she is no longer your daughter-in-law. She is my daughter, and I’m taking her home.”
With only a small bag of clothes, Anika left silently with her parents. In the taxi, Mr.
Raghav held her hand:
– “Don’t be sorry. I just want you to live with dignity, not pretense.”
That day, Anika abandoned a mansion and a loveless marriage, returning to a place of true affection – her parents’ home, where hearts were sincere and love was real.
