The vivid reds in wedding symbols of celebration , Happiness and Joy . But what will happen if the same red colour change into the colour of blood betrayal and the symphony of despair.
Meera sweet little innocent girl end up being the pawn in the d...
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Stop it. She is my wife.)
The voice is unmistakable. It's none other than my husband. His tone is firm and unyielding, resonating with authority. The room falls silent, and all eyes turn to him.
"Main apni patni ke khilaaf ek aur bhi apmaan bardasht nahi karunga." (I won't tolerate any more insults against her.)
Priyanka's face pales as she realizes the gravity of his words. Her confident demeanor crumbles, and she takes a step back, visibly shaken.
"Arre Arjun, tum uski taraf kaise le sakte ho? Humari saalon ki dosti barbaad kar rahe ho tum! Tum bhi jaante ho ki yeh ladki sirf ek pareshani hai—" (Oh, come on Arjun, how could you take her side and ruin our years of friendship. Even you know she is nothing but a nui—)
"Bas. Bahut ho gaya Priyanka." (Enough. You've said enough, Priyanka.)
"Agar meri patni ki izzat nahi kar sakti ho, toh meri gusse ka samna karne ke liye tayyar ho jao. Aur himmat hai toh karke dikhao." (If you can't respect my wife, then you will face my wrath and I dare you.)
I watch as Priyanka's face flushes with anger. She turns on her heel and storms out of the room, leaving a stunned silence in her wake. Priyanka's expression shifts from shock to something more complex—anger mixed with humiliation. She opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off with a glare that could freeze water.
I look at my husband, my heart pounding. This was the man I thought of as cold and distant, standing up for me with such conviction. Tears well up in my eyes, a mix of relief, gratitude, and something else I can't quite identify.
"Main..." (I am...) I whisper, my voice trembling.
He steps closer to me, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Tumhe kisi ko kuch bhi sabit karne ki zarurat nahi hai, Meera." (You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Meera.)
His words hit me like a tidal wave. For the first time in my life, someone is standing by me, defending me. After everything that has happened, he is here, protecting me. Not just once but twice. I thought I was just a mere transaction for his revenge.
Why? The question lingered in my mind, continuously torturing me.
I look up at him, my emotions in turmoil. "Kyoon?" (Why?) I ask softly, my voice barely audible. "Why did you stand up for me?"
His expression is unreadable as he meets my gaze. "Kyunki tum Arjun Singh Rajvansh ki patni ho, Meera." (Because you are Arjun Singh Rajvansh's wife, Meera.) "Aur kisi ko bhi yeh haq nahi ki woh meri cheez ki beizzati kare." (And no one has the right to disrespect something that is mine.)
Tears spill over my cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. For the first time, I see a glimmer of something in his eyes—compassion, maybe even a hint of warmth.
