Kashvi Rao never planned to get married, and it was never her choice. However, when she finally agreed to marry, it was to the man chosen by her parents.
There's nothing inherently wrong with a parent-arranged marriage, but when the man her parents...
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Vansh's silence was a deafening roar, a chilling absence that left me reeling. Weeks of nothingness, a void so vast it swallowed my soul. I was a ghost, wandering the desolate landscape of our relationship, searching for a glimpse of him, a whisper of his name.
And then, without warning, he materialized before me, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that left me breathless. His touch, oh his touch, it was like a whispered promise, a gentle caress that awakened my heart from its slumber. I felt it, even in my sleep, my body responding to his presence like a flower to sunlight.
But I refused to be swayed, my mind a fortress of resolve, my heart a heavy stone. I knew the pain he was capable of, the devastation he could unleash with a single glance. So I armored myself, my expression a mask of indifference, my voice a cold breeze that cut through the silence.
"Divorce papers," I said, the words a rusty gate creaking open, revealing the desolate landscape of our relationship. The sound was a slap, a harsh rebuke that snapped him back to reality. His eyes widened, his face a canvas of shock, as if he had never expected me to fight back.
"Why," he whispered, the word a barely audible sigh, a soft breeze that carried the weight of his shattered dreams. His voice cracked, a delicate vase shattered on the floor, leaving shards of sorrow and regret in its wake. The single syllable hung in the air, a plaintive cry, a desperate plea for answers.
His eyes, those piercing orbs that had once shone with love and adoration, now seemed to hold a thousand questions, a million unspoken words. They searched mine, begging for a reason, a justification, a reprieve from the executioner's axe that had fallen between us.
"Because I can't live with you, and the fact that I'm just a replacement for her," I spat, the words venomous darts aimed straight at his heart. My voice trembled, a leaf quivering in a hurricane, as I struggled to contain the torrent of emotions within me. Each word was a razor-sharp blade, slicing through my own soul, leaving me raw and bleeding.
I paused, my chest heaving, my eyes blazing with a fire that threatened to consume me whole. "Because I hate you, Vansh, and I can't live with you anymore." The words were a death sentence, a guillotine falling on our relationship, severing the last thread of hope.
My heart was shattering into a million pieces, each fragment piercing my skin like a shard of glass.
"You disgust me," I hissed, my lips curling in revulsion as tears streamed down my face. "Your touch, your voice, your very presence makes my skin crawl." The disgust I felt for him was a palpable force, a living entity that writhed and twisted between us like a snake, squeezing the life out of me.
I felt like I was drowning in a sea of pain, each word a heavy weight that pulled me under.
The look in his eyes was a searing pain, a branding iron that left an indelible mark on my soul. Shock, disbelief, and anguish wrestled for dominance, his gaze a window to the shattered remains of his heart.
I saw my own pain reflected back at me, a mirror image of the destruction we had wrought. The words hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the life out of our love, leaving only ashes and regret in its wake.
He took the pen, his movements eerily silent, like a funeral procession marching to the grave of our relationship. I expected him to resist, to fight for me, for us, but instead, he surrendered with a defeated air, as if the life had been drained from his soul.
The scratch of the pen on paper was a death knell, a solemn declaration of our demise.
A tear betrayed me, slipping from my eye like a fugitive, and I rubbed it away with a harsh gesture, as if trying to erase the pain. The saltiness of my sorrow lingered on my lips, a bitter reminder of the love we had lost. I felt like a shipwreck, abandoned and adrift in a stormy sea, with no anchor to hold onto.
The silence between us was a chasm, a vast and unbridgeable gulf that swallowed all hope and happiness. I gazed at him, my eyes pleading for a glimmer of the love we once shared, but his face was a mask of resignation, a cold and unforgiving stone that left me shivering in the darkness.
I dialed the number, my fingers trembling like leaves in a gust of wind, as I struggled to contain the anguish that threatened to consume me. "You can come now," I whispered, my voice cracking like fragile glass, "we've signed the divorce papers.'" I ended the call abruptly, without waiting for a response, as if the words themselves were a poison that needed to be expelled from my system.
I rose from the bed, my movements mechanical and stiff, like a puppet on strings, as I began to pack my belongings with tears streaming down my face like a river of sorrow. Each item I touched felt like a razor-sharp blade, slicing through my heart and soul, leaving me raw and bleeding.
Meanwhile, Vansh sat motionless, his eyes fixed on the space where our love had once flourished, now a barren wasteland of shattered dreams and broken promises. His gaze was a heavy weight, a boulder that crushed my chest, making it hard to breathe. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of despair, with no lifeline to cling to.
The question hung in the air like a guillotine, poised to drop and sever the last thread of our relationship. "Who is it you're going with?" he asked, his voice a barely audible whisper, a gentle breeze that carried the weight of our destruction.
I hesitated, my heart racing like a wild animal, as I struggled to utter the words that would forever change the course of our lives. "With Arman," I whispered, my voice a mere sigh, a soft exhale that carried the weight of my betrayal.
The words hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the life out of our love. I felt the pain like a razor-sharp blade, slicing through my soul, leaving me raw and bleeding. I knew, in that moment, that I had inflicted a wound that could never be healed, a hurt that would forever be a scar on our souls.
Vansh's eyes widened, his gaze a window to the shattered remains of his heart. I saw the pain reflected back at me, a mirror image of the destruction we had wrought.
We both stood there, suspended in time, our hearts heavy with grief, our love lying in tatters at our feet.
●thank you so much for all the responses in th elast chapter, and I would like it if you'd do the same with this chapter.
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●what did you think after you have read the read the chapter?
●what do you think she's going with Arman?
●why do you think vansh signed the papers so easily?
