The Night I Locked My Wife in the Storage Room — and the Morning That Changed Everything

One morning, my aunt came to see me. She placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “Raj, you have two choices. Accept the divorce, or swallow your pride and beg her to return. Either way, stop hiding behind your mother’s voice. This is your life, not hers.”

Her words struck deep. That night, I stood under the stars, alone, replaying everything I’d done.

For years, I thought love meant obedience — that respecting my mother meant sacrificing my wife. But now, I understood the truth: no woman should have to beg for dignity in her own home.

I don’t know if Anita will ever forgive me, or if I even deserve it. But one thing is certain — if I ever see her again, I will tell her the words I should have said long ago:

I’m sorry.

Because sometimes, the harshest punishment isn’t losing a marriage — it’s realizing too late the kind of man you could have been.