They were an unbreakable couple since school. Still, he cheated on her.
She loved him with all of her. Still, he broke her into millions of pieces.
She has no one except him. He has someone other than her.
She was tolerating bad behavior of his fami...
Khas The Kabhi Ham Bhi Kisi Ki Nazron Mein Ghalib, Magar Nazron Ke Taqaze Badalne Mein Der Kahan Lagti Hai...
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The room felt like it couldn't breathe. Curtains barely swayed, trapped in the stillness. The ticking clock on the wall grew louder by the second, like a countdown to detonation.
Raj sat rigid on the edge of the ornate sofa, knuckles white as they sank into the cushion. His eyes locked on the floor, but his mind roared.
Across from him, Shalini didn't blink. Her hands clutched the bedspread, the embroidered flowers crushed under her grip. Her back was straight, her spine held together by pride and decades of tradition.
"We agreed to the engagement because of you, Raj..."
Her voice came low, like the quiet edge of a blade. Raj's jaw tightened.
"...But can that girl understand our customs?)"
His breath caught. He didn't lift his gaze.
Silence crackled, louder than her voice.
Shalini pressed on, the edge in her tone now cold, decisive. "Na maa-baap hai, na paisa—" (No parents, no money—)
Raj's head jerked up.
Something shifted behind his eyes. His breath drew in sharply—too sharply—and then he stood.
So fast the chair groaned and tipped backward before thudding back into place.
"Mom—" His voice was tight. "I'm done with this."
Shalini's eyes widened, but her expression remained composed, even as her fingers curled tighter on the sheet.
Raj's chest rose and fell with each angry breath. "You've said enough." His voice cracked, then deepened, angrier. "I've had enough!"
The air snapped like a whip as he turned and strode out. His footsteps thundered down the hallway, each one loud enough to echo. And then— SLAM. The door shook in its frame.
Shalini didn't move.
Not right away.
Her gaze stayed on the door as if expecting it to open again, to rewind what had just happened.
But it didn't.
Her knuckles trembled now, still clinging to the sheet like it was the only thing anchoring her. She swallowed, the sound too loud in the silence.
"What has happened to my Raj?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, choked, almost unrecognizable. Her son had shouted at her—walked out on her—for that girl.
That girl.
Mishti.
A girl with no name, no background, no family name to trace. No worth—by Shalini's standards. And yet...
