That day, the luxurious hotel in New Delhi shone in all its glory. I—Rajesh Malhotra, a forty-year-old man—walked in with my beautiful young bride, under the admiring glances of the crowd.
My wedding party was dazzling: fresh flowers everywhere, top-notch wine, a live orchestra playing sweet Indian love songs. I felt I was at the peak of happiness and success.
But then, as I raised my glass for a toast, my eyes suddenly froze at the corner of the room. Dressed in a simple uniform, her hair neatly tied back, and holding a tray of drinks in her hands, stood a familiar figure.
For a moment, my heart skipped—and then I laughed.
It was her—Anita, my ex-wife. The woman who once cooked me simple meals every day. And now, while I wore a designer suit with my beautiful new bride beside me, she was serving at my own wedding.
Friends around me whispered,
“Isn’t that Rajesh’s ex-wife?”
What irony! A successful man gains a new wife, and the other woman ends up serving.
I listened and merely smiled, taking it as a sweet victory after the divorce.
But thirty minutes later—the truth came out.
When the party was at its height, an elderly guest with a serious demeanor approached my table. It was Mr. Sharma, an important business partner I had long dreamed of working with. Smiling, he lifted his glass for a toast:
“Congratulations on finding your new happiness.”
I answered cheerfully,
“Thank you, it’s an honor to have you here today.”
But then his eyes shifted to the corner of the room, where Anita was still busy cleaning up. Suddenly, he put his glass down firmly and stood tall. His voice rang out,
“With everyone’s permission… I would like to say a few words.”
The room instantly fell silent.
He turned to Anita:
“Few people know this, but that woman… she is the benefactor who saved my life three years ago in a road accident in Jaipur. If she hadn’t jumped into the freezing water to pull me out, I would not be standing here today.”
The guests gasped in shock. I was speechless.
Mr. Sharma continued, his voice thick with emotion:
“Not only that, she is also a co-founder of the charitable fund I support. After her divorce, she quietly left, gave up all luxury to her ex-husband, and then started working physically to support her elderly mother and young son.”
A devastating blow.
His words struck like lightning. I turned to look at Anita. There she was, tears in her eyes, yet still bowing her head, humbly continuing her work as if nothing had happened.
The guests began whispering,
“My God, I never imagined she was such an honorable woman.”
And Rajesh dared to laugh at her?
My face burned, sweat streaming. Pride instantly turned to humiliation. What I thought was a “victory” after divorce was nothing but pettiness and selfishness.
The woman I abandoned, belittled, turned out to be the savior of my most important business partner—and a respected figure in society.
In those moments, it felt as if all the music and laughter in the room vanished. My soul went cold as I realized: the happiness I held now did not honor me. My cruelty and arrogance had made me the smallest man in that glittering hall.
I nearly stepped forward to approach Anita, to apologize. But my feet felt heavy. She only looked at me, her eyes calm, before turning away.
At that moment, I realized I had lost something priceless forever—not just a wife, but a kind-hearted woman I would never encounter again in my life.
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