Six months of journey with Tara as my wife
made me realize her care and affection for me.
Her naïve, grinning face is enough to
turn my dullest day to joy.
She started living in my heart
the moment she entered my life as my wife.
Tara is a fairy to me.
But I am an ogre,
unworthy of having a fairy in my life.

— From Ishaan's diary, written after six months of marriage.

TARA'S POV

Ishaan!

I couldn't believe it.

What was he doing here? And why was he driving Dhruv's car?

The man who was supposed to be out of my life was now the one driving me to meet another.

I wanted to scream at him, demand to know what was going on, but I couldn't even form the words. My throat felt dry, my hands clenched into tight fists as I forced myself to ask.

"Ishaan, what are you doing here?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, but the confusion and the sudden tension between us were unbearable.

He didn't flinch. 

"Put your seatbelt on. I'll drop you off for your date." His voice was cool, almost indifferent, as if he wasn't bothered by the fact that I was meeting Dhruv tonight.

A flash of anger rose in me. He was taking me to Dhruv. My husband—soon-to-be ex-husband—was delivering me to another man. 

My mind couldn't make sense of it, and yet, the weight of our current situation kept me silent. I glanced at my purse and realized with a sinking feeling that it was in Mahira's car, along with my phone. I had no other way to reach Dhruv or change my plans.

I swallowed hard, sinking deeper into the seat. This was humiliating.

As the car rolled down the street, the silence grew thick and unbearable. I watched the world outside pass by in a blur, my mind clouded with frustration, confusion, and... something I didn't want to admit—disappointment. 

Shouldn't he care that I was going on a date?

Shouldn't there be some emotion in his voice, some sign that this hurt him?

Ten minutes passed, and suddenly the car jerked to a halt. My head snapped up, and I realized we weren't at the restaurant.

"What happened?" I asked, looking around. There were no signs of life here, just a quiet street and dim streetlights flickering in the distance.

"I don't know." His response was flat, as he pulled the key from the ignition.

"What do you mean you don't know?" My anxiety spiked.

"Maybe a flat tire?" I offered, trying to stay calm despite the growing sense that something was off.

Ishaan stayed silent, stepping out of the car without a word. I followed, my legs shaky as I joined him to inspect the vehicle. He popped the hood, and I watched as he fiddled with the engine, his hands moving with the confidence of someone who knew what they were doing.

"Don't do that. You might hurt yourself," I said instinctively, grabbing his hand without thinking.

The moment our skin touched, it was like a jolt of electricity shot through me. My breath caught in my throat, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel angry at him. 

I felt... lost. Like everything I had told myself over the past few months—everything about moving on from him, divorcing him—was just a lie I had been forcing myself to believe.

"This much care for me? I'm impressed," Ishaan's voice broke through the moment, teasing, yet something in his eyes flickered—a glimmer of vulnerability that caught me off guard.

"I'm not trying to impress you," I snapped, pulling my hand away, though my heart protested the loss of contact.

He smirked. Yet today, it was different. It wasn't the smirk of a man who had just won a fight—it was softer, almost tired. 

I watched as he moved to check the driver's seat, his movements slow, deliberate. The silence between us stretched out, loaded with unsaid words.

Then, suddenly, he pulled his phone from his pocket and started talking to someone. Mahira. The jealousy twisted in my gut, like it always did when he spoke to her so easily. I folded my arms over my chest, turning away.

"There's no diesel in the car," he said after a brief conversation, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

I stared at him, my mouth open in disbelief. No diesel? The fuel gauge was full!

"What? That's impossible. It's already late!" I looked at my watch, panic rising.

"You can call Dhruv. Let him know you won't make it." Ishaan's suggestion was laced with calm indifference, but the way his eyes flicked to mine betrayed him. He didn't want me to call Dhruv.

That's when I remembered I didn't have my phone. And that's when it hit me.

This wasn't an accident. He had planned this. Ishaan, who barely showed any emotion, who never fought for our marriage, had done this on purpose.

"You planned this," I accused, my voice trembling with fury. "You planned this to ruin my date with Dhruv."

He didn't deny it. Instead, he met my gaze and said quietly, "I didn't want you to go on a date with Dhruv or anyone else."

My breath caught. His words hung in the air between us, heavy and loaded with meaning. He didn't want me to go. He didn't want to let me go.

I shook my head and started walking frantically along the road. After five minutes, I heard barking dogs and a howling wolf, sending a wave of panic through me.

Loud, strange sounds at night always terrified me. My breathing became shallow, and my body started trembling. I blinked rapidly, feeling dizzy.

"Mom... Mom... Mom..." I whispered, hearing my mother's voice in my head. Suddenly, I felt someone touch my shoulder. It was Ishaan, looking concerned.

My legs felt weak, and before I collapsed, Ishaan caught me by the elbow. He pulled me into an embrace.

I started crying in his arms, desperate to block out the terrifying sounds around me. I buried my face in his chest, covering my ears. One of his arms patted my head while the other rubbed my back.

I couldn't hear the dogs or the wolf anymore. All I could hear was his heartbeat.

Music is said to reduce stress and depression. At that moment, his heartbeat was music to me. Listening to it calmed my anxiety.

"Tara, are you okay?" Ishaan asked as he gently pulled away.

"Yes, I think so," I whimpered.

Ishaan removed his blazer and draped it around my shoulders. He cupped my face, wiping my tears with his thumb.

The blazer's warmth was comforting, and we started walking towards a nearby park, arm in arm. I clutched his arm, needing the reassurance that he was there with me.

In the park, a few kids were playing on the merry-go-round and slides. Some people were walking for relaxation.

He gestured for me to sit on the swings. I sat down as a sudden joy spread in my heart. Ishaan sat on the another swing beside me. I could feel his gaze on me, even though I was looking around at the park.

I looked up at the sky, hoping to see the twinkling stars, but there were none. The dark, fluffy clouds had hidden both the stars and the moon.

"No stars or moon tonight. I can't see the sparkling stars that make me happy," I pouted.

"But I can see a star," Ishaan said, looking up at the sky.

I opened my eyes wide and looked up with curiosity.

"Where?" I asked, spinning my head to find it.

"It's there," he said, pointing to the sky.

"It's tiny, cute, and adorable," I commented, still searching for the star.

"Yes, like you," Ishaan said, his eyes now on me.

I blushed. Ishaan had never spoken to me like that before. I could feel my cheeks burning as I looked down, trying to hide my smile.

Just then, a kid came running towards the swing, pulling my attention away from Ishaan.

"I wanted to play!" The boy glowered at Ishaan to get up from the swing.

Ishaan pouted and stood up. He came behind me and started to pull the swing from behind, gently pushing me forward as I began to swing, laughing.

The boy's longing eyes made me feel sad. I asked Ishaan to help the boy as well. Ishaan agreed and helped the kid onto the swing. Meanwhile, Ishaan's phone vibrated, and he became busy with a call.

The small boy gelled up with me so easily. I shared Ishaan's nickname with him. The boy chuckled upon hearing it. The kid sang rhymes and songs while I noticed Ishaan wasn't around. I turned my head, searching for him. He returned with a water bottle and a brown packet.

I learned from Ishaan that there was a pastry shop nearby. I drank the water as he opened the brown packet. He handed me a 'bun butter jam'. Sitting on the swing, I took a bite, realizing this was the most splendid bun butter jam I'd ever had. Ishaan stood next to me, eating his.

"Ogre! Sit next to your girlfriend on the swing and eat," the boy suggested while playing.

"She's my wife. Don't call me an ogre, and I'm not sitting on the swing with her," Ishaan retorted.

"We can share the swing. Just come," I said, inviting him.

"Tara, the swing can't handle our weight. There's no space for two people, and you'll feel uncomfortable sitting together," he reasoned, which disappointed me.

"So many reasons to say 'no.' Find one reason to sit next to me," I teased.

I shifted to make space for him, and Ishaan reluctantly sat down. We adjusted ourselves on the swing, enjoying the proximity. We continued eating the bun butter jam. Ishaan handed his phone to the kid, who began taking pictures of us.

"What was the one reason you decided to sit next to me?" I asked.

"Dhruv! That bastard never let me sit next to you on the swing when we were kids," Ishaan muttered as he finished his bun.

I gave him a horrible look, but he remained unfazed. I finished my bun, and the kid waved goodbye and ran towards his parents. I took the opportunity to address the sudden intimacy between us.

"Have I been a good wife over the past three years?" I asked Ishaan.

He didn't respond. His silence spoke volumes, and I decided it was better to drop the topic as his mood seemed good today. The breeze brushed my face, and I felt sleepy. I rested my head on his shoulder, letting sleep take over.

I heard Ishaan calling my name several times. When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in his favorite Audi. I realized I had been leaning on his shoulder.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking outside the car window.

I recognized my house. I was about to thank him for dropping me home and saying goodbye, but Ishaan's behavior was strange. He didn't respond to my question.

"Thanks for dropping me off. Bye," I said, twisting the car door handle, but Ishaan stopped me.

"I should be thanking you for giving me this precious night," Ishaan said with a stern face.

I opened the door. I didn't look back at him as I walked inside.

If I look back at him, I was sure I would return to his mansion with him.

To my surprise, Dhruv was sitting on the sofa, frustration written all over his face.

"Dhruv..."

"Tara, you've insulted me most amazingly by going on a date with our enemy," Dhruv spat before I could explain.

"I..."

"You ate bun butter jam with him on the swings!" Dhruv yelled.

How did Dhruv know that?

"Just listen, we didn't go on a date," I tried to explain, but Dhruv stood up, ready to leave.

"Tara, what about the blazer you're wearing? It's Ishaan's, isn't it? And you're still going to tell me you didn't go on a date with your husband, whom you're divorcing in 26 days?" Dhruv roared, pointing to the blazer I was still wearing.

I tried to stop Dhruv, who was heading towards the door.

"Just give me some time to forget this incident," he muttered, walking out with rage.

Rivan approached me, handing over my phone and purse. I glanced at my phone, and my eyes widened. It was 11:30 PM.

"Dhruv is angry with me," I mumbled as Rivan pulled me into a side embrace.

I explained everything that had happened between Ishaan and me. Rivan patiently listened.

"Tara, you accidentally went on a date with Ishaan," Rivan said, crossing his arms.

"No! I didn't," I protested.

"A late-night walk, arm-in-arm, and eating your favorite food together. These are also considered a date," Rivan pointed out, making me lower my head.

"Did you enjoy your time with Ishaan today?" Rivan asked, sitting on the nearby sofa.

"Actually...I... Ishaan," I stammered, making Rivan giggle.

"Stop giggling!" I demanded, sitting beside him.

"Don't lie. Just tell the truth," Rivan teased, brushing Ishaan's blazer over me.

"I've never been this happy with Ishaan. I enjoyed it a lot. If he had behaved like this all along, I would never have agreed to the divorce," I confessed, making Rivan grin.

"Did Ishaan mention any past girlfriends in his diary?" Rivan asked.

"That's private. I can't share it with you," I replied playfully, as Rivan pouted.

"He didn't mention any girlfriends in his diary," I added.

"So, his diary is just about his daily routines and schedules?" Rivan guessed.

"No!" I countered.

"Then what does he write about?" Rivan's patience was wearing thin.

He writes about his feelings for me!

"I can't tell you that," I said, pulling his cheeks.

"We're going to Dhruv's hockey match tomorrow. Don't forget. We'll try to calm him down," Rivan yawned, getting up.

"How did Dhruv know that I ate bun butter jam with Ishaan on the swings?" I asked, still curious.

"Not just Dhruv, over 1,00,000 people know about it," Rivan said, handing me his phone.

"Oh my god! What has he done!" I exclaimed, seeing Ishaan's Instagram profile on Rivan's phone.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Ishaan had posted the pictures we took at the park on his social media, and he had tagged me. I scrolled through the pictures—he had uploaded every single one.

My expressions grew more shocked with each picture. Rivan nudged me to read the caption and see the music he had chosen for the post. I secretly loved each photo, but I pretended to be upset in front of Rivan.

"You look sad," Rivan observed.

"Yes! I don't look good in any of the photos," I fake-sobbed as he giggled.

"Seriously, Tara! Ishaan shouldn't have posted these pictures on social media when you're about to divorce him. I don't know what his plan is," Rivan said calmly.

"I agree," I nodded.

"Read the caption," Rivan suggested.

"My first date with my wife!" I read aloud, taking a deep breath.

Why are you doing this now, Ishaan?

"You missed the red heart emoji next to 'my wife,'" Rivan pointed out, as I handed Rivan's phone back to him.

On one side, I had annoyed Dhruv, my best friend—or soon-to-be boyfriend. On the other, I had a splendid first date with Ishaan, my husband—or soon-to-be ex-husband.

Suddenly, my mind went crazy, imagining Ishaan as the bun, me as the butter, and Dhruv as the jam. 

What is happening to my life?

Let me know your views on the fourth chapter in the comment section.

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The Fifth chapter will be out tomorrow. Bye. Good Night.