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...
SHIDDAT SE NIBHAU WOH AADAT HAIN TU ISHQ HI NAHI ROOH KI IBAADAT HAIN TU
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Next day - patel house
The sound of knife against the cutting board was rhythmic, almost meditative. He diced the onions with precision, his gaze occasionally flickering towards her—sitting on the counter, legs swinging lazily, as she popped peas into her mouth. Every so often, he caught the playful glint in her eyes, but he pretended not to notice.
"Why did you insist on coming here, Mishti?" His tone, though soft, carried a tinge of concern. His attention remained fixed on the onions, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Mishti smirked, unbothered. "Haww... tumko in janwaro ke beech mein akela halal hone bhej deti kya?" she quipped, her voice playful, almost teasing. (Haww... would I send you alone to be sacrificed among these animals?)
His hands paused briefly, a faint crease forming between his brows. He glanced up at her, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and frustration. "Jyada hi halke mein le rahi ho apne pati ko, madam," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her, though the words didn't go unnoticed. (You're taking your husband too lightly, madam.)
She raised an eyebrow, pausing her snack, as if to challenge his remark. "What did you say?" she asked, her innocence feigned, her grin betraying the mischief brewing beneath the surface.
He glanced at her briefly, his lips curving into a slight smile. "Kuch nahi. Khao mat, khane mein dalna hai," he replied, his tone light but firm. (Nothing. Just don't eat them, we need them for dinner.)
"Ha na, itne saare toh hai," she shrugged nonchalantly, as if the peas were endless. (There's plenty,) In one smooth motion, she hopped off the counter, closing the distance between them with a handful of peas still in her grasp.
His breath hitched for a moment, his eyes following her movements. "Mishti, careful," his voice softened, betraying a hint of apprehension as he saw her move closer with that careless bounce in her step. "Don't hop around like that."
But her determination was clear as she gently but firmly pulled him aside. "Hato tum, mai add karungi masala," she insisted, nudging him away from the stove. (Move aside, I'll add the spices.)
Surprised, he stepped back, his eyes widening as he watched her grab the packet of chili powder with too much enthusiasm. He blinked, realization dawning too late as she poured the entire contents into the dish.
"Aree... itni mirchi!" His voice shot up in disbelief, eyes wide as he watched the bright red powder blend into the food. (That's too much chili!)
But Mishti, ever unbothered, simply shrugged, her lips curving into a cheeky smile. "Oops, maine jaan bujh kar nahi kiya," she said with mock innocence, casually stirring the dish. (Oops, I didn't do it on purpose.) Then, with a dramatic sigh, she added, "But oh well, ab kya kar sakte hain? Let them eat it spicy." Her sarcastic tone was hard to miss as she shot him a look.
