𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 #2
𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒
═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════
Nitya Heer Tiwari had always been the strong one-the loyal friend, fierce and protective to her core.
But when tragedy strikes, h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A week before
'And did you forget why we got married in the first place? It's not like we love eachother or something.'
As Heer utters those words my heart twists painfully. She isn't in love with me. I don't deserve her at all.
But she was wrong on one thing. I do love her. Pathetic I know. But I can't stop myself.
"I..." I contemplate on whether it's the right time to confess but decide not to considering our circumstances.
She looks regretful as she assaults her lips harshly. I glare at the floor and sigh.
"Aman-" She starts apologetically but I walk away before I could do something I'd regret.
Like telling her how much I am in love with her since the moment she opened her mouth and pegged me down a notch with those cutting remarks.
Stepping down the stairs, I rush towards one of my car in the garage. My Benz is still under repair after the accident so I take one of my other cars and drive off the city aimlessly.
I stop in a road where there's noone around, planning my next move. I take out my phone and stare at the wallpaper.
It's a photo of Heer and I in Kyushu, when we visited to witness the lilac blooms of Lake Wisteria.
The light of the setting sun splays across her cheeks and turns her dark chocolate eyes into a lightest shade of brown. There's happiness playing a huge role in her allure. I know she's beautiful but the genuine smile of hers makes her ethereal to look.
I watch myself in the picture. I am such a sap. Because my focus is fully turned towards her. I look like the happiest guy on earth.
I zoom in on Heer's face and touch her face gently. A lone tear trickles down my eyes.
My throat hurts in how much force I am using into holding myself from crying.
Her being raped and having nobody else to confide snaps something inside me. A sound like a roar leaves my mouth and I hit my steering wheel repeatedly. The sound of blaring horn booms all over the silent place.
I was strong from yesterday just because my Heer didn't want a weak person to lean onto. I controlled myself from breaking down infront of her after hearing what happened to the love of my life.
The last time I cried was when my father was holding my Ma's life in his palms and was about to kill her. From then onwards I never cried. I endured his beatings without giving him the satisfaction of my tears. I changed myself into an easy going guy.
Because Karan Singh didn't want easy. He wanted a son who was all 'tough, like a man' he said. So I wanted to be exactly the version he loathed. I started Mehra Coutures because he thought that was a lame idea for a great family like ours.
