Page 116 of The Defiant Wife

"The way you laugh."

"The way you care about every child there."

"And yes . . . " His gaze softens. "I noticed your skin too." He pauses. "But not the way you think."

His fingers slowly trace the edge of one of the vitiligo patches with incredible gentleness. "Every mark is different. No one else has yours."

He studies my face as though he's trying to memorize every detail. "It's like looking at a painting that exists only once." He kisses my forehead softly, "I could spend hours looking at you and still find something beautiful I missed before."

A sob catches in my throat. "You don't have to say all this just to make me feel better." My voice shakes. "You don't owe me comforting lies."

"I don't lie." The answer comes immediately. "I never have."

He leans a little closer until our foreheads almost touch. "I'm saying it because I mean every word.".He brushes another tear from my cheek. "No one should have made you believe this was something you had to apologize for." He huffs, "No one should have made you think you were less because your skin looks different." His voice grows even softer. "I don't see something that needs to be hidden."

"I see the woman I married." The room goes completely still. "And I am very grateful, no matter what circumstances brought us together, I am grateful I am your husband."

Neither of us speaks for several seconds. His thumb continues gently tracing my cheek. "So whenever you look in the mirror," he whispers, "I hope one day you'll see yourself the way I see you."

I can't stop the tears anymore. Before I can answer, he leans forward and kisses me.

Slowly. Softly. There's no urgency. Just warmth. Comfort. A promise.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. "I hope you never forget this," he murmurs. "Your husband thinks you're the most beautiful woman in every room you walk into."

A tear slips down my cheek onto the pillow. But this time it isn't because someone made me feel small . . . It's because someone finally makes me feel seen.

For twenty-four years, I've been the girl people stared at. The girl my father tried to hide. The girl who believed she would always have to explain herself.

Tonight—wrapped safely in Veeraj's arms—those old voices finally begin to fade.

I hold him a little tighter.

He kisses me again, slow and gentle, while the rest of the palace sleeps around us.

For the first time in my life . . . I don't feel like the girl who has to survive.

45. SOFTNESS

DIYA

The old royal botanical gardens are peaceful in the late afternoon. Ancient banyan trees stretch across the lawns, and the soft breeze makes the leaves rustle gently. It feels nothing like the grand palace with its towering walls and endless responsibilities.

I sit on a thick picnic blanket spread across the grass, the breeze brushing against my linen kurti as I watch the three Shekhawat women who, without even realizing it, slowly change my life.

For years, I live with my guard up. I always expect judgment. I always prepare myself to be hurt.

But sitting here in the warm sunlight, surrounded by people who never make me feel like I have to earn my place, my mind is finally quiet.

Meher bhabhi sa is arranging cucumber sandwiches and fresh fruit on a silver platter, moving with the calm grace that somehow makes everyone around her feel relaxed.

Poorvi is lying comfortably on one elbow, listening with an amused smile as bhabhi sa talks about the chaos of getting everyone ready for the upcoming royal family portrait.

"I'm telling you, Poorvi," Meher laughs, shaking her head, "if Devraj has to fix that safa one more time, he'll refuse to attend the photoshoot altogether."

Poorvi laughs."And don't even get me started on Veeraj."She looks at me with a teasing smile."He spent twenty minutes standing in the hallway looking like a thunderstorm. Then the moment Diya walked downstairs, he became the most cooperative person in the palace."

Heat rushes straight to my face.I laugh quietly, looking down at my hands resting in my lap. The pale patches of vitiligo glow softly under the afternoon sun, and for once, I don't feel the need to hide them.