Just filed for divorce, I discovered that my biological mother and husband had had a “black deal” behind my back without my knowledge
I filed for divorce after 4 years of marriage, no fuss, no climax, simply because I felt like I had lived too long in a suffocating marriage.

My husband – I thought he loved me, but his care turned into suffocating control.

From using social media, texting male friends, to being a few minutes late to work – everything was scrutinized. Messages poured in as if I was doing something wrong.

I was exhausted. But my mother – who had experienced a stressful marriage – advised me to “try for the sake of my children”.

When I mentioned moving out, she just said: don’t make a big deal out of it. I felt disappointed but still kept quiet because I loved my mother.

When I couldn’t bear it anymore, I wrote a divorce petition and arranged everything myself.

On the day of the court hearing in Mumbai, my husband was late. He was confused, wanted to reconcile, but kept silent when he saw my determination.

At that moment, the mediator showed me the joint property records. I was shocked to see the money from my husband’s account transferred to my biological mother – not once, but many times, almost a year ago.

My spine shivered.

When I got home, I just gave my mother the statement without saying anything. My mother looked at me for a long time before sighing, then admitted everything.

She said that more than a year ago… she had seen my husband with another woman, but secretly resolved it without telling me.

She did not like her husband’s family – the people she considered “torturing” her daughter. Every time I called to complain about the pressure of being a daughter-in-law and a wife, she felt like her blood was rushing in her heart.

Then she decided to “help her escape” by… talking to my husband: threatening, intimidating, even asking for money to keep the secret. She thought that if the relationship became tense, I would take the initiative to divorce and demanded a suitable compensation. She never thought I would be able to break away from a seemingly “stable” marriage without being pushed to the brink.

I was speechless. I didn’t know whether to be sad, angry, or sympathetic.

My husband – the person I always thought loved me so much that he controlled me – betrayed me, used money to “shut up” his mother-in-law and kept me like a doll in a glass cage.

My mother – the person I loved and trusted the most – hid me to “free” her in her own way.

I got divorced, just as my mother wanted, but I didn’t feel as relieved as she thought.

To this day, I still don’t dare look my ex-husband in the eye. Trust has been eroded by both sides and by the person I trusted the most.

The question still haunts me: If my mother hadn’t intervened, would my husband and I have been able to adjust and heal ourselves? Or will it also fall apart, just in a different way, amidst the bustling streets of Mumbai?

After my divorce, I decided to move to a smaller apartment in Bandra, a seaside neighbourhood in Mumbai that I had loved since my youth. From the living room window, I looked out at the sparkling Mumbai Bay at night and listened to the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore. The new space, away from the old memories, helped me breathe freely for the first time in many years.

At first, the days passed slowly, sometimes painfully lonely. But I learned to walk along the beach, drink coffee in small cafes on Chapel Lane, and more importantly – I began to care for myself. I joined a morning yoga class in Versova, learned to regulate my emotions, and felt peace in my soul.

One drizzly afternoon, I happened to meet Arjun – a young, cheerful and optimistic photographer, who was taking pictures of Bandra jetty covered in rain and fog. He invited me to take a few photos with him, saying that “sometimes a small moment can change the way you see the world”. I smiled, surprised by the gentle, warm feeling spreading in my heart.

Gradually, our beach walks with Arjun became a habit. We talked about Mumbai, about food, about our favorite books, and about the loneliness we both experienced. He never asked about my past, never urged me to move on – just listened and shared.

One evening, when Mumbai was quietly immersed in the yellow light of street lamps, we stood on the Bandra-Worli Sea Link bridge, watching the city reflected in the dark water. Arjun held my hand and said gently:

– “Life is sometimes so unfair. But there are also moments that make us feel lucky. I believe you will find true happiness, and not just peace, but also love.”

I looked into his eyes, for the first time in many years, no more resentment, no more anger, only warmth and trust. My heart, which had been hardened by the past, suddenly began to beat a new rhythm – gentle and clear.

I was in no hurry to end my life story. I knew that sometimes happiness does not come in loud or bright ways. It comes from quiet mornings, from gentle gestures, and from allowing yourself to love again.

Mumbai was still bustling, still full of old houses and colorful small streets, but to me, this city suddenly became gentler. I smiled, picked up a seashell from the beach – as a reminder that everything can be found again, even in loneliness.

And perhaps, one day, when the sun shines through the tall buildings, I will continue on a new path, hand in hand with Arjun, to build a life that is both peaceful and romantic – where love and freedom coexist.