Solace

|34|dilemma

Follow your Author Meehira__writes

Do tell me if you find any mistakes, I'll rectify it, asap.

Happy Reading!!

***

"See you soon, Meesha," I muttered and left, not waiting for her reply. I followed Nidhi, trying to grab her arm, but she yanked it away.

"Nidhi, stop," I called out.

"You have no right to ask me to stop," she retorted, her voice heavy with emotion. I grabbed her arm, not saying a word, nor loosening my grip. I pushed her into the car.

NIDHI

A mocking smile played on her lips, as if she were taunting me for being with my husband-the same husband I danced with last night, the same one who held me in his arms, who kissed my cheek, who murmured sweet nothings. Why was he with her? Had the chasm between us grown so vast that he was now roaming around with another woman?

She was just an acquaintance, he had told me, and now they were business partners. Was he regretting marrying me? Was there more to come?

My heart sank as the thoughts swirling in my mind began to crystallize. I could endure fights, arguments, and even his silence, but not this. I couldn't bear the idea of him looking at another woman or spending time with her. He might call me conservative or old-fashioned, but that's just how I felt. I could not tolerate my husband having female friends and sharing quality time with them. I simply couldn't.

And I wasn't being hypocritical. I wouldn't entertain any other man except him.

Was he regretting marrying me?

I didn't like Meesha, but I had to admit she possessed everything I didn't and never would. She was stunning, with a perfect, model-like figure-gym-sculpted with flawless curves, which I lacked.

She had wealth too, managing her father's business with aplomb.

His grip tightened around my wrist, unyielding. He swiftly ushered me into the car, while I kept looking at him, trying to decipher his thoughts. Was he regretting marrying me?

Just yesterday, he asked if I loved someone else, and today, he seemed like an entirely different person.

As soon as we arrived home, I bolted from the car.

I hurried to our room, feeling on the brink of an anxiety attack for the first time in a month. I rushed into the closet and frantically searched through the drawers. The closet door slid open, and Vaibhav entered. He looked the same, not like a man planning to leave me. Yet again, I feared being left with only the dust of memories.

I focused on my search and, a moment later, found the medicine. My breathing was labored, and sweat drenched my body. But before I could take the pills, he snatched them from my hand.

"No, please," I gasped.

"I'll do whatever you ask, but please," I pleaded, mustering every ounce of courage.

He pulled me toward him, our bodies colliding. I struggled to break free, but his grip remained firm. His hand stayed on my nape, forceful yet not hurting.

"Calm down, it's not what you think," he murmured, his breath as ragged as mine. His voice was nasal, as if he had a cold.

I tried to pull away again, but my strength waned, and I slumped. Before I could fall, his hold tightened, keeping me upright. But even then, my knees began to buckle, and I started to slip from his hold to the floor.