“Wedding Night At 61: Just Taking Off My Wife’s Shirt, I Was Stunned When I Saw What Was On Her Back…”
THE STORY IS REWRITTEN MORE COMPLETELY AND TOUCHINGLY:
I am Rajiv, 61 years old, a man who has lived half of his life in solitude. Eight years ago, my wife passed away after a long battle with illness. My children, all married, would drop by once a month to drop off some money and medicine, then leave in a hurry.
I don’t blame them. Everyone has to live for themselves. But on rainy nights, lying in an empty house, listening to each drop falling on the tin roof, I suddenly feel… pitifully small.
One year ago, on a sad night, I was surfing Facebook and came across Meena – my first love from school. At that time, she was a high school girl with a bright smile and deep black eyes that made me absent-minded every day I went to class. But when I was preparing for the university entrance exam, her family married her off to a man ten years older than her, living in the South.
From then on, we lost contact.
Forty years passed in the blink of an eye. Now, she was a widow, living with her youngest son – but he worked far away and rarely came home.
At first, we just texted to ask how we were. Then we started calling. Then came the short coffee dates. And so, I found myself driving to her house more often – bringing some fruit, some health pills, and… a heart that never stopped missing her.
One day, half-jokingly, I asked:
– “Or… let’s get married? Two old souls, together to lessen the loneliness?”
I thought she would laugh. But her eyes were red, and after a moment of silence, she nodded.
And so, at 61, I got married – to the first woman I ever loved.
On the wedding day, I wore a plum-colored sherwani. Meena wore a simple cream-colored silk sari. Her hair was tied back in a bun, with a tiny pearl clip. Friends and neighbors came to congratulate me, and everyone said, “You two look like newlyweds.”
I feel young again.
That night, after the party, I made her a glass of warm milk, locked the gate, and turned off the porch lights. The house was quiet, except for the gentle sound of the ceiling fan.
The wedding night — something I thought would never happen again — arrived.
As I slowly took off her blouse… I was stunned.
Her back was crisscrossed with old scars —stained purple, veins bulging in the light. I stood still, breathless.
She panicked and pulled the blanket over herself, her eyes full of fear. I asked in a trembling voice:
– “Meena… what is this?”
She turned away, her voice broken:
– “He… used to be… very hot-tempered. Every time he got angry, he would hit me… I never told anyone…”
I sat down beside her, my hand shaking as I held hers. My throat tightened, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.
I placed her hand on my chest, where my heart was beating strongly with pity:
– “You are safe now. From now on, no one will have the right to hurt you anymore – except me, but only because… I love you so much.”
She burst into tears. Her small sobs echoed throughout the room. I held her, gently, as if holding all the painful memories she had kept hidden for decades.
There were no scented candles or soft music on our wedding night. There was only the sound of insects in the garden, the wind blowing through the window, and two old people lying quietly next to each other.
I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. She touched my cheek and whispered:
– “Thank you… for letting me know that, in this world, there are still people who truly love me.”
The next morning , I woke up early to cook chicken porridge. She stood beside me, smiling as I clumsily cut vegetables. In her eyes, I saw the light of the schoolgirl from back then – gentle, pure, but now mature through the storm.
I know, from now on, I will no longer have lonely nights.
I can’t erase your painful past. But I can give you a warm enough present, and a peaceful enough future.
CONCLUSION:
That wedding night, I realized — happiness is not the excitement of youth, not the burning passion. But having someone to stay up with you through the long night, to gently hold your hand, and know that you are no longer alone.
Thank you fate – for bringing her back to me.
Thank you life – for letting me meet the person I used to love, right when we needed each other the most.
And this time, I won’t let go.
