In Rediff's series on modern marriages, young couples from across India discuss how they deal with differences of opinion, lifestyle preferences and personal choices.
Here, *Riya tells Rishika Shah/Rediff how a lie she discovered after marriage made her question everything she thought she knew about the man she loved.
I met *Kunal when we were in college. What started as friendship turned into love and, before we knew it, we had spent 11 years together. For nearly five of those years, we lived together in Delhi. I thought there was nothing left to discover about him.
Two years ago, we finally got married. I genuinely believed I was marrying my best friend. I couldn't have been more wrong.
The lie that changed everything
Throughout our relationship, Kunal always told me he had just two pending papers left before completing his graduation.
It had been a sore point between us as education mattered to me. I come from a family of teachers where earning a degree wasn't just about getting a job. It represented discipline, commitment and keeping your word.
Kunal always brushed it aside. "Who cares about degrees if you're earning well?" he'd say. I didn't agree but I trusted him.
Then, just before our first wedding anniversary, everything fell apart.
He was supposed to appear for the two exams he had spoken about for years. Instead, he confessed that he had lied. Not two papers. More than 16 backlogs. He had never intended to complete his degree because he was too embarrassed to go back after all these years.
I sat there speechless. It wasn't the lack of a degree that shattered me; it was realising that the man I'd loved for 11 years had hidden something so significant from me.
'It's just a harmless lie'
When I confronted him, expecting remorse, his response hurt even more. He told me I was overreacting. "It was just a harmless lie," he said.
But it wasn't harmless.
For years, my parents had asked about his exams. I had defended him every single time because I believed what he had told me. Without knowing it, I had become part of his lie.
It even created friction with my parents because I kept reassuring them that he would soon finish his degree. When the truth finally came out, our relationship with them suffered.
For over a month, we barely spoke. Kunal didn't seem particularly affected but I was devastated.
'Our dreams didn't look the same anymore'
The lie forced me to question everything else. Could I trust what he told me about our future?
One of our biggest disagreements is about having children. I've always imagined becoming a mother. Kunal says he wants children too but only after we've accumulated enough wealth to give them what he calls "the best life".
His benchmark? Savings of at least Rs 1 crore, luxury and financial abundance. Sometimes he jokes that unless he can buy his child a Porsche one day, he isn't ready to become a father.
I understand wanting financial security. But life doesn't always wait for perfect timing. By the time he feels "ready", I'll be close to 40. That thought terrifies me.
The childhood he can't let go of
Couples therapy helped me understand something I hadn't seen before. Kunal grew up feeling inferior to his wealthier classmates.
He often spoke about watching other children arrive in expensive cars, wearing branded clothes and going on lavish holidays while his family struggled financially. Those experiences left scars.
Today, he wants to earn enough so that his own children never experience what he did. I empathise with that. But I also wonder whether unresolved childhood trauma is now making every major life decision for us.
I want to raise children with values. He talks about raising them with unlimited opportunities. Somewhere along the way, our definitions of a happy family have stopped matching.
'Therapy has reached a dead end'
After the truth came out, I began individual therapy. We also attended two couples counselling sessions.
For almost a year, we've tried talking through these differences. Sometimes, we make progress. Sometimes, we end up having the same argument all over again.
Now, Kunal refuses to continue therapy. He says we've discussed these issues enough. I don't feel we have.
Trying to rebuild trust
To be fair, after we got married, I encouraged him to start applying for jobs. I helped prepare his resume and even applied to companies on his behalf. He was reluctant to attend interviews.
Eventually, he landed a job and now earns a decent salary.
I'm proud that he's finally moving forward. But rebuilding a career is much easier than rebuilding trust.
Today, I'm not questioning whether I love my husband. I'm questioning whether love alone is enough when honesty, shared values and trust begin to disappear.
Because sometimes the biggest cracks in a marriage aren't caused by one dramatic betrayal; they're caused by a lie that quietly grows for years until, one day, it becomes impossible to ignore.
Today, we're still together but we're no longer pretending everything is okay. Some days, we have difficult conversations. On others, we avoid the topic altogether.
I don't know what our future looks like. I'm still hoping we find our way back to each other but I also know that rebuilding trust takes far longer than breaking it.
*Names changed to protect privacy
