Chapter 3 – The Decision

The voices in the hall kept rising, pressing in from every side, suffocating the already broken silence around Gayathri. She stood there, unmoving, her eyes empty, as if she had stopped hearing anything at all.

Ravi watched her for a long second.

Then, without another thought, he walked straight toward her.

“Ravi…?” Poornima whispered, confused as she noticed the sudden change in his expression.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached out and held Gayathri’s hand.

Her fingers were cold, lifeless, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even react. She simply let him hold her, like someone who had no strength left to question anything.

“Come with me,” Ravi said quietly.

The hall fell silent as everyone watched.

“Where are you taking her?” one of the elders asked sharply.

Ravi didn’t even turn. “You’ll see.”

He walked past them, holding Gayathri’s hand firmly, leading her through the long corridor of the mansion. Poornima hesitated for a moment, then quickly followed them, her heart racing.

They stopped in front of the puja room.

Ravi pushed the door open.

The soft glow of the diya filled the space, calm and sacred, completely opposite to the chaos outside.

Gayathri stood there, still numb, her gaze unfocused.

Ravi looked at her for a moment, then turned to Poornima.

“Close the door,” he said.

Poornima obeyed silently, her hands trembling.

“Ravi… what are you doing?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he stepped closer to the idol, his hands shaking slightly as he picked up the sindur.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he said slowly, his voice low but steady. “But I know I want to.”

Poornima’s eyes widened.

“Ravi… think once—”

“I already did,” he cut in, his gaze fixed ahead.

Gayathri stood still, like a shadow, unaware of what was about to happen.

Ravi turned toward her.

For a brief second, he hesitated.

Then, without giving himself another chance to stop, he gently lifted his hand and smeared the sindur onto her forehead.

Poornima gasped softly.

“Ravi…”

But he didn’t stop.

He picked up the mangalsutra lying near the idol and tied it around Gayathri’s neck with firm hands.

The moment froze.

Time itself seemed to pause.

Gayathri blinked slowly, as if waking up from a deep, endless darkness. Her hand moved to her forehead, touching the fresh sindur, then to the mangalsutra around her neck.

“What…?” her voice came out as a broken whisper.

Ravi stepped back, his breathing uneven but his eyes clear.

“Poornima,” he said, not taking his eyes off Gayathri, “take her to my room.”

Poornima stood frozen for a second. “Ravi… this—”

“Please,” he said, softer this time.

She nodded slowly.

Walking up to Gayathri, she held her gently. “Come, akka…” she whispered, guiding her out of the room.

Gayathri didn’t resist.

She simply walked with her, still unable to process what had just happened.

When Ravi stepped back into the hall, every single person was staring at him.

Shock.

Anger.

Disbelief.

“What have you done?” one of the elders demanded.

Ravi didn’t look at them.

He walked straight toward his father.

“Dad,” he said calmly, “I know what you want to ask.”

His father studied him carefully, his eyes filled with both pain and understanding.

“I didn’t plan this,” Ravi continued. “I didn’t think about it for days or weeks… but in that moment, it felt right.”

Silence filled the space.

“I took this decision,” he added, his voice firm. “And I will take responsibility for it. Don’t worry.”

His father held his gaze for a long moment.

Then slowly, he nodded.

“I trust you, son,” he said.

Ravi’s shoulders relaxed just slightly. “Thank you, dad.”

He turned toward the others.

“Everyone… please leave,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

No one spoke.

One by one, they began to move away, whispering among themselves, but not daring to question him further.

Ravi didn’t wait.

He walked out of the mansion, grabbed his car keys, and stepped into the night.

The cool air hit his face as he stopped near the gate.

For a moment, he just stood there.

Then he took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag, the smoke curling into the darkness.

His hands were finally steady.

But his mind wasn’t.

He leaned against the car, closing his eyes briefly.

And then—

The memory came back.

The hospital room.

The sharp smell of medicine.

The sound of machines.

Rehan lying on the bed, weak but conscious.

“Ravi…” Rehan had called softly.

Ravi had stepped closer, trying to stay strong. “You’ll be fine. Don’t talk too much.”

Rehan gave a faint smile. “Don’t lie to me… I know.”

Ravi’s jaw tightened. “Nothing will happen to you.”

“Listen to me,” Rehan said, gripping his hand weakly. “Promise me something.”

Ravi didn’t respond immediately.

“Take care of her,” Rehan whispered. “And the baby… don’t let my child grow up without a father.”

“Stop talking like that,” Ravi said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Promise me,” Rehan insisted.

Ravi looked at him, his eyes filled with conflict.

Then slowly, he nodded. “I promise.”

Rehan’s grip loosened, a sense of relief crossing his face.

“Thank you…” he murmured.

Ravi opened his eyes.

The cigarette had almost burned out between his fingers.

He took one last drag and threw it aside, crushing it under his shoe.

“I kept my promise,” he said quietly.

For a moment, he looked back at the mansion.

At the life that had changed forever in a single day.

At the decision he had just made.

The future was uncertain.

Complicated.

Maybe even messy.

But one thing was clear—

He wasn’t afraid of it.

“I’ll handle it,” he said under his breath.

And this time—

There was no hesitation in his voice.