Have I made the correct decision?
No, not at all.
I shouldn't have married Tara.
I'm unfit for Tara's kindness.

Her serenity when I rage,
melts my cold-stoned heart
in her balmy gaze.

Yet when I shout, yell, or scream,
her doe-shaped eyes
teeter on the edge of spilling tears.

I've seen fear in her eyes for me—
a fear that stirs my own.
A fear that her fear
might turn into hatred.

Will she hate this ogre more
as the days unfold?

- From Ishaan's diary written after three months of marriage.

TARA'S POV

I snapped my eyes shut, closed the diary, and placed Ishaan's diary safely in my handbag. My heartfelt fragile after hearing Ishaan's words to Dhruv a few hours earlier at the airport.

When I trailed with Mahira from the washroom, I observed an argument between Dhruv and Ishaan. As I came closer, I heard Ishaan's deep, bass voice.

"Tara won't leave or abandon me," Ishaan snapped, seething at Dhruv.

"I'll end things myself. I'll divorce her."

"What?" I whispered, shattered.

Ishaan remained silent, glowering at Dhruv. I had proposed to Ishaan today, hoping my love would stop the impending divorce between us. But it didn't.

On the same day, I declared my love, Ishaan still insisted on divorcing me.

Was my love proposal a mistake?

Rivan's prediction had come true. At the restaurant, Rivan warned me that Ishaan might behave oddly. He urged me to search for the remaining diaries to uncover Ishaan's past while others were distracted.

In the diary, Ishaan expressed how deeply he loves me. Yet, when Dhruv pressed him about love earlier, he stayed silent. And now, he openly admits he wants a divorce.

Despite it all, my crazy heart still loves this complicated man I've known since childhood.

Now, I'm sitting by the beach, watching the sunset. I glanced at his diary inside my handbag. The Ishaan who writes in his diary feels completely different from the Ishaan I know now.

I came here seeking peace after hearing his words, but instead, questions swirl in my mind.

The sun's rays slowly faded, reminding me that twilight had arrived. The world around me grew darker.

Will Ishaan be like the setting sun? Will he disappear from my life, leaving only darkness after the divorce?

"Tara, what are you doing here? Let's go to the Divan mansion," Ishaan's voice broke through my thoughts.

I didn't respond or turn to face him. If I looked at him or spoke, my anger would surely dissolve into calmness.

"Tara!" Ishaan called again, stepping in front of me.

"I'm not coming," I whispered, keeping my gaze fixed on the sand and the crashing waves.

"Tara, we'll go home and talk," Ishaan said, his voice firm but understanding.

"I'm not..." I began but stopped abruptly as he lifted me into his arms.

I gasped, struggling to break free. My resistance seemed to have no effect. His grip only tightened, holding me securely.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the safety and strength of his hold.

"Ishaan! I'm..." I started again, but his intense, burning gaze silenced me.

"We'll go home and talk," he said, his anger flashing in his eyes.

"No! Put me down," I screamed, continuing to struggle in his arms.

"Stop struggling. If you act like a child, I'll carry you all the way home," Ishaan stated, making me gasp.

Already, people were staring at us curiously. I didn't want the entire city to see us as an odd couple.

But, in truth, we were an odd couple.

Reluctantly, I wrapped my arms around his neck for support. I stared at him, and at that moment, the world fell silent.

I stopped resisting as Rivan's words echoed in my mind. I needed to find Ishaan's diary from when he was 18. To do that, I had to go back to the mansion.

I knew he loved me, his diary revealed as much. But I also needed to understand why he wanted a divorce. Perhaps his diary held the answers I sought.

The car ride was silent. My mind was busy contemplating where to search for Ishaan's remaining diaries. Only five diaries had been found in the storeroom. Where could the rest be hidden?

The car came to a stop in front of the Divan mansion. I followed Ishaan inside.

As we entered, I noticed Shyam urging Ishaan to sign some important files and documents. Ishaan nodded and headed to his study room.

I walked into the kitchen and prepared black coffee for both of us. As I placed the cups on a tray, Shyam entered the kitchen.

"Ma'am, Sir has asked you to come to his study room immediately," Shyam said politely before leaving.

I carried the tray carefully into the study room. Ishaan was busy with a stack of papers in his hands.

He was speaking, not to me, but on his phone with a client. AirPods were attached to his ears. Noticing me with the tray, Ishaan gestured for me to sit across from him. I placed the coffee tray on the table and took a seat.

Ishaan finished his work. He arranged the papers in order. Then, he took a key from his pocket and walked to the closet area. The closet contained a hidden locker. I was astonished to see a diary-like book inside, along with some other items.

Is this Ishaan's diary from when he was 18?

The thought piqued my curiosity. I needed to get my hands on that diary. The storeroom was easy to access, but I rarely came to the study. How could I manage to read it?

Finally, Ishaan disconnected the call. I handed him the coffee cup, but he declined.

"I need to talk about the alimony," Ishaan began, his tone neutral. "You will get 25% from me as per the law." He paused and picked up another set of files.

Frustration boiled inside me. His announcement about the divorce to Dhruv earlier had already upset me.

Now, he was dismissing my love, my efforts to salvage our relationship, everything. Instead, he was planning to end our marriage.

"Our lawyers suggest presenting our relationship as a 'marriage of convenience' since you are not financially independent. This way, you can claim up to 75% in alimony from me," Ishaan explained, handing me the documents.

"So, this is your brilliant plan—to increase the alimony from 25% to 75%?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Ishaan replied, his gaze steady, his confidence unwavering.

"Am I speaking to my husband or a business tycoon?" I mocked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You are speaking with your husband," he said firmly.

"But you sound like a businessman," I retorted, glancing at the divorce documents.

"I didn't come here to talk to a businessman. I came to talk to my husband. Is my life just another business deal to you, Mr. Ishaan Divan?" My voice cracked under the weight of my emotions.

Ishaan was silent, his expression unreadable.

"I've had enough. I'm not interested in interacting with the businessman anymore," I said, rising to my feet.

"Tara!" Ishaan called out sharply as I walked away.

A loud crash echoed behind me, a glass shattering. I knew it was the coffee cup. I didn't turn around.

Tears blurred my vision as I left the room. Ishaan wouldn't see me cry, hastily wiping the tears from my cheeks as I headed to the garden.

My heart felt unbearably heavy. I sat on the ground, the soothing fragrance of night-blooming jasmine surrounding me. It was a scent I loved, but I couldn't enjoy it. My sadness turned to anger, and my anger gave way to uncontrollable tears.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I rested my head on them and let myself cry, hoping to ease the pain in my heart.

Neither the sunset over the beach nor the intoxicating aroma of the flowers at night could lift my mood.

I sat among the grass and bushes, I wondered how Ishaan could think of ensuring my future while being so detached from his wealth.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Ishaan standing there, silently asking permission to sit beside me. I nodded, and he settled down, placing a tray with a black coffee on the grass between us.

"Tara, we need to be practical. You're mature enough to understand the situation," he said, brushing his palm against mine.

"Fine. I don't want your alimony. I'll repay the scholarship money you gave me for my education, in EMIs," I declared, watching his eyes widen in surprise.

"I'm not running a bank," Ishaan replied.

"You are a lender to me, and I'm not ready to accept money from a businessman. I'll pay you back with interest," I retorted.

"I'm not a lender. I'm your husband. I sponsored your education because it was my responsibility to care for my wife," Ishaan said firmly.

"So, you admit you cared for me. Why did you care when no one else was willing to sponsor my education?" I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to control my tears.

Ishaan gently caressed my hand, his touch was a silent attempt to soothe my pain.

"Because it was my duty as your husband. That's it," he said, avoiding my gaze.

"After divorcing me, you won't have any duties towards me. So, I don't need your alimony or anything from your property. I'll repay every penny you spent on me," I insisted, my words making him frown.

"You can't just say that," Ishaan snapped.

"I will," I replied, my voice unwavering.

Ishaan's hands found the gaps between my fingers, interlocking them with his. I glanced at him as he took a deep breath.

"I will take care of you until my last breath," Ishaan's determined voice left me astounded.

"Why are you saying this? Why now?" I asked, exhaling as a cold breeze swept over us.

"Because I love you," Ishaan finally admitted.

The cold breeze seemed to turn into warmth around me. I wanted someone to pinch me to ensure this wasn't a dream.

Am I dreaming?

I wasn't ready to speak. I could only stare into his eyes, seeing a surge of affection and love there. Ishaan pressed his forehead against mine.

"What? Are... you... sure?" I stammered, trying to process his words.

"Yes, I love this wild cat," Ishaan replied, his breath fanning my face.

A smile crept onto my lips as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. I didn't want to say anything. All I wanted was for him to keep talking.

"You are the bearer of my love," Ishaan murmured, his forehead still resting against mine.

My heart pounded in my chest. I could feel his love as he nuzzled his forehead against mine.

"Everything I've earned—my wealth, my power—it's all for you. Taking care of your needs is my top priority," Ishaan whispered.

"My body and soul belong to you. No one else has any rights over me except you," he declared openly.

I glanced at his wristwatch, which made him pause. He seemed puzzled when he noticed I wasn't fully listening, as I was distracted by the watch.

"What happened? Do you want my watch?" Ishaan asked curiously.

"No! You took exactly 11 hours and 11 minutes to propose after I did," I stated, making him grin.

"When you proposed, I was the happiest person in the universe," Ishaan declared, filling my heart with joy.

"Then why talk about divorce?" I asked, desperate to know the reason.

Ishaan took a deep breath and reached for the black coffee on the tray.

"Tara, I'm... an ogre," he admitted, his voice trembling as he handed the cup to me.

"You hated me once," Ishaan confessed.

"I hated some of your actions, not you! I love you," I said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Ishaan's face lit up with happiness, but there was still a determined glint in his eyes, as if he was trying to convince me of something I didn't want to hear. I rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

"You shouldn't have loved me. An ogre like me doesn't deserve to have you in my life," Ishaan confessed, his breathing uneven.

"No! I'm happy with you," I reassured him, taking a sip of the coffee.

"Tara, I've controlled my rage and frustration with you, but you know how dangerous my temper can be," he said, pausing to glance at me.

"We never took our relationship to a serious level because of your education. But now that we've both fallen in love, our love could become dangerous for you," Ishaan said, his voice heavy.

"How?" I asked, confused about what could be dangerous in our love.

I handed the coffee cup back to him, and he accepted it.

"You know about my intermittent explosive disorder. It's a danger to our love. What if, in my anger, I hurt you physically? I'm already hurting you emotionally," Ishaan admitted, sipping the coffee.

"So you want a divorce?" I asked, and he nodded.

"I want to care for you. I want to cherish you. I want to live for you, Tara. But I don't want to hurt you. I can't risk it," Ishaan said, passing the coffee back to me.

"You won't hurt me. You can't hurt me. So let's stop this divorce," I murmured, taking another sip.

"A few minutes ago, in the study room, I threw the coffee cup to the floor in anger. What if, in a similar moment of rage, I hit you instead? I can't risk your safety. I don't want you to get more attached to this marriage only for it to bring disaster to your life," Ishaan explained, his voice breaking.

"Fine! What is your final decision?" I inquired, my voice trembling slightly.

"We will divorce each other," Ishaan mumbled, standing firm in his decision.

He loves me. He admitted it openly. I can't let this relationship end so abruptly.

I need a plan to halt the divorce process. But first, I need to understand him completely.

"If letting go is an art, you are Picasso of it," I murmured, handing him the black coffee.

"So..." He waited for my response, accepting the coffee.

"I agree to whatever decision you make," I said reluctantly, my face clouded with sadness.

"But on one condition," I added, making his eyebrows shoot up.

"We still have fifteen days until the divorce. During these days, we'll try our best to be a perfect couple in love. We'll share our lives and emotions with each other," I confessed, watching him as he sipped his coffee.

"Do you think we can do that—share our lives and emotions?" Ishaan asked, his expression skeptical.

"Yes! If we can share a cup of coffee, we can share anything," I replied, trying to motivate him. He grinned faintly.

Ishaan placed the empty cup on the tray, which was adorned with jasmine flowers that had fallen from the vines.

"The night-blooming jasmine smells incredible! Its fragrance is extraordinary," I commented as he stood up.

I extended my palms toward him, expecting him to help me stand. Instead, he bent down and scooped me into his arms, leaving me stunned.

He came closer, inhaling the scent from my face to my neck. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him, trying to balance us both.

"Not better than the fragrance from your neck," Ishaan murmured, his praise making me blush deeply.

As he carried me from the garden to the bedroom, I rested my head on his shoulder, the exhaustion of the day catching up to me. I closed my eyes, feeling a sense of peace and determination—I would get my man back.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of Ishaan's soft snoring. A smile played on my lips as I got up quietly and walked to the nightstand beside him. Turning on the torchlight on my phone, I looked around.

Feeling my throat dry, I reached for the water bottle on the nightstand. My gaze fell on a black leather-covered diary.

Is this Ishaan's diary? The one he wrote when he was 18?

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