The Night I Sent My Wife to the Storeroom — and the Morning That Changed My Life Forever – Page 7

News spread fast. Relatives whispered behind my back.

“Raj locked his wife in the storeroom,” someone said. “She just had a baby, and he treated her like that.”

Others scolded me outright. “Your mother poisoned your marriage. And you let her.”

Every word felt like a knife. And every cut was deserved.

I tried calling Anita again. She answered, sitting on her parents’ porch, our baby asleep in her lap.

“Anita,” I whispered, “please let me see him. Just once.”

Her face didn’t change. “Now you remember your son? Where was that love when I begged for respect?”

Then she hung up.

That night, I sat in silence, surrounded by the echo of my own mistakes.

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