In a tale of love, loss, and redemption, Aarav and Rhea's paths intertwine amidst the luxury of their privileged worlds. Their chance meeting at Stanford University ignites a fiery romance, but tragedy and betrayal tear them apart.
Years later, fat...
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April Jaipur, India
Rhea's POV
"Rhea?" I hear a familiar voice, and I turn towards the door to see my mother standing there quietly. I stare at her blankly for a few seconds before turning back to gaze out of the window.
"How are you doing?" my mother asks, moving closer. I refuse to look at her or answer.
"You've been ignoring my calls," she says with a sigh, sitting beside me. I pull my legs closer to my chest and rest my face on my knees, staring out at the scene outside. Workers are decorating the mansion and front lawn, preparing for the arrival of my unknown-to-be-husband's family.
My mother places her hand on my shoulder, and I flinch, moving away from her touch. She withdraws her hand, looking hurt.
"I asked you something," she says again, her voice tinged with desperation.
"Jaldi jaldi karo. Ladke wale 3 ghante mei ayenge. (Hurry up! The groom's family will be here in 3 hours)" I hear Ayush shout to the manager and workers.
My mother grips my arm, trying to make me face her. "What do you want?" I snap, pulling away harshly and standing up.
"I asked you something. Just answer me," she says, standing as well.
I meet her gaze, anger bubbling inside me. "I'm doing terrible. As you can see, everything happening around me is against my will, and no one is stepping up to stop it," I say mockingly, gesturing around the room. My mother just observes me quietly. "And as for your second question, I didn't want to talk to you then, and I don't want to talk to you now," I add, walking to my bed and lying down, pulling the duvet over me.
She tugs at the duvet, but I tighten my grip, refusing to let go. "Stop acting like a stubborn child, Rhea," she says with a sigh.
"Stop treating me like one," I retort from under the duvet.
"Just do what he says for once," she tells me. I scoff, sitting up straight. "I've always done what he asked. I'm an adult, and I have the right to make my own choices, including whether I want to get married or not," I state, glaring at her.
"He is your father," she says.
"So? That gives him the authority to treat me like a controlling toy?" I ask incredulously.
"You don't want to see your brother and sister-in-law getting divorced, do you?" she asks, trying to evoke sympathy. My fingers curl around the duvet in anger.
"I feel pathetic and ashamed to even call you people my family," I grit out. But my mother seems unfazed.
"Do it for Viraj. He loves Sanvi a lot," she says, clasping her hand over mine. I stare at our hands, long and hard, before I hear a knock at the door. I look up to see Nikitha and Sanvi standing there.
