Raghav turned away unable to see anymore.

He met the eyes of that horrid old man whom Pallavi had called Baba once. Her former father in law. Or is he still her father in law. He got confused sometimes. He had always been a straight forward kind of person. He knew exactly what he wanted from life.

So all this complexity of relations and emotions had made a flyover over his head.

He had no idea whether Pallavi was Pallavi Rao anymore or had she gone back to being Pallavi Deshmukh.

He heard Mandaar laughing about something with Pallavi. Her own laughter, a river interspersed with peals of chirpiness. A soothing balm to his burning soul. She sounded jubilant, happy, at peace.. at home. He looked at her once trying to focus only on her, and not the surrounding milieu of the equally ecstatic Deshmukhs surrounding the pair. She had her eyes scrunched tight as little tears of mirth rolled down the crinkled corners. Her hair, raven and raw like silk moved with the slight evening air which had entered the courtyard of the house as if curious to see what the entire situation is about.

Mandaar said something to her in Marathi, incomprehensible to him which sent her and the rest in equal burst of laughter again. She seemed to be in a different plane here. In this place, with this man whom she had once called husband. The man who was presumed dead and had suddenly appeared from the mist to plunge back into their lives again.

From the day, that doctor had told them that Mandaar would be needing Pallavi's attention to regain his memory, she had been in and out of the Deskmukh house constantly. Initially he had conceded it to be a fair point considering she was thinking of him with sympathy.

But of late, he didn't know what to think. He would always find her trying to go to any lengths for her former husband to remember, even if it meant to cook something for him, wear the bangles brought by him, talk to him, go out with him. Just anything. He had taken extra precaution so that he doesn't come out to be demanding or insecure or worse, seeing like he didn't trust her but there is only so much a man can take.

This man was taking no pains to recover himself he thought.

Today he had come home to the news that Pallavi had been invited to the Deskmukh house for a festival again. He had gone with her insisting that he could help in preparations or just accompany her. She had agreed as usual. He had seen his wife been whisked on entry by the Deshmukhs and none of them ever left her side. He kept looming in the background, feeling like an utter outsider as he saw Mandaar circling his wife like a puppy as she walked around beaming like she owned the place, or like she hadn't even left it at all.. or like he didn't exist any longer.

A usual occurrence by now.

Raghav had always known God hadn't quite cut him out for getting happiness. He had been always made sure of that fact by his fate. He was somebody who was destined to rule, to succeed in every sphere in his life except in the one everyone eventually strides to be - love.

He had never got any affection for which he hadn't had to fight for. He usually isn't that kind of a person who would deliberately steal something he believes is someone else's in the first place. But he had thought, Pallavi's love was something which she had given herself... for which he hadn't had to fight too much. Which he adored too greatly to let go so easily.

So Raghav Rao had fought. He had kicked and screamed and fought for what he believed was his, to keep his possession.

His Pallavi.. his wife... her love.

But now it seemed to him, Pallavi was never his to keep. Maybe he had been given to her for a short period of time, in the time God believed this kind compassionate strong woman needed to be weak and needed someone else to hold onto. So God had thrusted Raghav into her life, cut open his own defences and ripped apart his armour for her to take. And he had offered his own throat happily for the said slaughter.

But now, she didn't need him any longer.

At least he didn't think she did.

So now, he was cast aside as always. The substitute. The replacement.

Of course... why hadn't he thought of this earlier? It all makes perfect sense now.

He had always marvelled how come the Almighty had been suddenly so benevolent to him. To give him something to pure, to all encompassing like Pallavi. A balm to his soul. He had thought Pallavi was his redemption, his salvation. He had never considered the opposite might be the truth. Pallavi wasn't to be a part of his story, his happy ending like he had previously thought.

Instead, it was he, who had been given to her as an impasse. A point in life where she needed a backbone. He is a part of her story. The painkiller granted mercifully by the Almighty to a deserving woman so that she could bide her time till she is reunited with her true love.

He suddenly felt sick. Sick to his core. A hot mortifying bile rose in his throat contracting his wind pipe horribly giving him a notion of chocking. To suddenly perceive it to be such a cruel game of irony, a check mate by the One who controlled all their fates. A slap on his face.

Or else why would a dead man suddenly rise and walk in back their lives. Their happy, peaceful tragically beautiful life.

Raghav saw her wiping her tears fitfully, hitting her former husband on the bicep fondly as he gazed at her like a love struck fool, grinning like an idiot. He felt a sharp stab in his heart, a massive pain which seemed to have cleaved it into two and threatened to collapse his rib cage in like a shattering structure caving in after an earthquake.

The realisation was painful. Utterly unbearably painful but brutal in the candid truth it reflected. The truth he had missed as he foolishly kept on trying to tug his wife, his love back from the person she was destined to be.

What a priceless idiot has he been?

Trying to play God in His own game?

Serves him right to have fallen face first, jaw breaking into the ground.

He deserves it!

He saw Aai place sweets in front on them laughing with the rest and Mandaar unconsciously took one to make Pallavi eat it. He saw with bated breath as Pallavi ate it from his hands as if it was no big deal. As if it was a common occurrence. He heard someone saying, their neighbours probably invited as well.. that they looked like a happy couple.

He felt something break and simultaneously freeze inside him.

He felt his feet moving involuntarily. He didn't remember to have commanded it to take him outside yet he reached towards the exit. He felt the pall draught of cool air hit his fevered face as he stumbled out of the Deshmukh house half blind with perspiration or maybe those were tears and started walking in an indeterminate distance.

He could feel the laughter and warmth ringing in the background recede further behind till it vanished like a sweet dream in the mist of the oncoming darkness of the night.

She had made her choice long before she herself knew, it seemed to him.

And Raghav, he had no choice in the matter at all other than to support her, like he always vowed to do.

His only wish remaining His cruel God shows him enough mercy to take his worthless life before Pallavi realises in truth that she has chosen over him.