His Wife Of Forcèd Fate ✓

Chapter - 5

Dhvani POV

Dhvani first night in the new house felt cold and empty. The silence was suffocating, like everyone around her was grieving something unspoken, something she couldn’t quite understand. Her husband never came back to the room after he left. At first, she thought he would—maybe to sleep, or to explain what had just happened—but he didn't. She stayed awake long into the night, and eventually, she found herself lying on the couch in the corner of the room, not wanting to intrude on his space. It felt strange, avoiding her husband on their wedding night.

She wore a simple white cotton suit—something she wasn’t supposed to wear after marriage, but in this marriage, everything felt out of place. Her mind drifted as she thought about the life she had lost, the love she had never had. The man who cheated her.

“This was her wedding night,” she thought. It wasn’t how she had imagined it, not in a million years. It wasn’t a marriage by any standard. But she wondered—what if things had been different? What if she had married the man she was supposed to?

At least, she found some peace in knowing her "husband" had chosen not to share the room. She appreciated that, in a way. It saved them both from the awkwardness, the pain of having to face each other in this forced union. Maybe this way, they wouldn’t say anything they’d regret.

And without realizing it, she drifted off to sleep, the weight of the day finally taking its toll.

Aditya POV

All my attempts to convince my parents to let me stay in a separate room were pointless. They wouldn’t budge. With so many relatives in the house, their priority was always their image, not my comfort or peace.

I couldn’t share a room with her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to, no matter how much I tried to convince myself. The weight of it, the guilt, would follow me.

But I needed my things from the room. I hoped, almost desperately, that she wouldn’t be there. Of course, that prayer was never going to be answered. It felt like everyone was pushing us together, forcing us into a situation neither of us wanted, and I couldn’t make sense of it.

Yup, she was there in my room in my wife's room. A room which my wife has decorated
with so much love and passion. My so called " new wife" was sitting in same room. As I watched her sitting there, attempting to make herself comfortable in a room that held a significant place in my heart, my emotions were a conflicting mess. This room wasn't just any room; it was a space filled with memories of my late wife, a woman I had loved deeply. Every corner, every piece of furniture, carried the essence of our time together. Her eyes closed but as soon as she sensed my presence she quickly stood up from the chair she was sitting on.

Seeing her straighten up and blush in embarrassment only fueled my irritation. Did she not understand that this space was reserved for my late wife cherished memories and not for her to casually settle into?

As I stood in the doorway, my initial shock changed into a growing frustration, a bitter taste lingering on my tongue.

"What are you doing in here?" I demanded, my voice sharp with disbelief.

Her surprised expression told me she hadn't expected me so soon, her voice barely a whisper as she explained her presence. My brows furrowed in disbelief at her words. They left her here? I couldn't understand the audacity of my relatives and mother, thrusting her into a space that held so much significance in my life.

I fought to contain the rising anger within me, the weight of their actions pressing down like a heavy burden. This room, my late wife's room, was sacred to me, filled with memories that I held dear. And here she was, an intruder in a space she had no right to claim.

"Well, that's just great," I muttered bitterly, unable to mask the resentment in my tone.

Her fallen expression tugged at something within me, but I pushed it aside, unwilling to show any sign of weakness. Instead, I met her etes head-on, my words cutting through the air with a deliberate coldness.

"Don't bother trying to settle in," I stated firmly, my voice devoid of any warmth. "This is my wife's room, not yours."

She hesitated, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something. But before any words could escape, I turned my attention to my belongings, scattered around the room. I tried to focus on gathering my things, attempting to ignore the presence that seemed to loom over the space.

As I picked up an item and placed it into a bag, I could feel her
gaze still on me. It was unsettling, this mixture of scrutiny and the unknown.

When our eyes locked, I could tell she was curious about me, but also being careful, like she was trying to figure out what I was thinking, just like I was wondering about her.

As I spoke harshly, I couldn't help but glance at her. Her expression changed from surprise to hurt really fast, like my words had hurt her feelings. Her cheeks got redder, but it wasn't from being embarrassed anymore. Instead, her eyes showed both confusion and sadness.

It was obvious she didn't understand why I was being so cold. My words had stung her more than I intended, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. I wanted to keep my distance, to keep her from getting any closer, but the way she looked at me made me question whether I was even doing the right thing.

In that split second, I saw the vulnerability in her eyes. She was just trying to make sense of everything, trying to understand my coldness, and here I was, pushing her away with my harsh words. The hurt in her gaze made me feel something I wasn't prepared for, something I didn't want to feel. It reminded me of a part of myself I buried deep—one I tried so hard to keep hidden behind walls of indifference.

As I walked away, I felt a knot in my chest. I regretted what I'd said, but it didn't stop me from walking off. The weight of what I'd done hung over me. I wanted to keep her away, to maintain my distance, but now I was starting to realize I might have just made her feel more alone than she already was.

Even though I walked away, her sad expression stayed in my mind. She was just a girl, abandoned by her parents and my brother. she was forced in this situation as I was. And I knew I was being mean to helpless girl.

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