I’m 32, married, and a mom to a 3-year-old. Life was fine, busy, predictable, and full of little joys, until last week when everything changed. I was at the metro station, rushing to catch my train, when I saw him. Just for a moment. My heart stopped.
It was my ex-lover. The man I secretly married in a temple years ago. He didn’t see me, but I couldn’t move. Memories came flooding back, the vows we exchanged, the plans we made, and the bitter fights that tore us apart. Not even my parents know about the marriage. We didn’t even get it legally registered. When things fell apart, I thought that chapter of my life was over. I moved on, built a new life, and never imagined our paths would cross again.
Now, I’m terrified. What if he finds out I’m here? That I’ve built a family in the same city? He’s the one person who knows the truth I’ve buried for years. I can’t stop thinking about what will happen if he recognizes me. My husband doesn’t know. No one does. This secret I’ve kept for so long feels like it’s about to unravel, and I don’t know how to face it.