"Remember, you were the one who called this marriage a hoax, so you have no business poking your nose in my matters. I am holding up my side of the contract, I expect you to do the same", she says conscious of his hands on her waist as he presses he...
A/N: Hey guys, I hope you like the chapter. Do vote and comment, it keeps me going. Share it with your friends too. The next chapter will be up tomorrow 9:00 PM IST.
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❝🇦🇳🇴🇳🇾🇲🇴🇺🇸❝
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Closing the door to my room, I make a move to my bed. Switching off the lamp, I lie down, my room illuminated only by the glow from my phone. As I scroll down the news, a particular headline catches my eye.
"Rivaah Verma back in town. Yash Raichand's absence at the airport fuels divorce rumours. Trouble in paradise?"
The paparazzi and there obessesion with breaking up marriages, I can't help but roll my eyes. Rivaah and Yash were the kind of high school sweethearts who would remain in love with each other forever. Bold of the media to assume that they were divorced. Rivaah was thirteen when she started dating Yash who was a year older than her. She used to be the bubbly girl in the class with several friends, the kind of person who could attract attention without raising a finger and Yash was the broody football team captain. A random altercation in the classroom corridoor lead to a passionate love story which eventually ended up in marriage and now they have a beautiful daughter. There were moments when I thought how similar our circumstances were but how different the outcomes. She was confident, she was beautiful, she was bold, she was everything I wasn't. Don't get me wrong, I was never jealous of her. She is one of the kindest person I had ever met and one of my only friends in school. But it is unfair how she got the man and the baby and the freedom, things I have desperately seeked all my life. When the depression spiral pulls me in, I switch of the light to sleep. This is how I have been thriving in this world- cutting out any thoughts that could give me more misery than what I am already blessed with. But my screen lights up with a message. Its again from that anonymous number. I have been receiving theses messages from the past week, false promises of freedom from a source I don't even know. How am I trust that a stranger could give me the freedom my family couldn't.
"You have nothing to lose by trusting me", the message reads as though the sender had read my mind. But the point was valid, I had nothing to lose any more, everything I once had were taken away from me. The world offered me bits of happiness once in a while only to leave me in worser sorrow.
"What do you want?", I text back.
"Reopen the case you fought seven years back", my fingers freeze as I read the message. A case that started and ended my law career, a flood of emotions greet me as I cast a fleeting glance at the image by my bedside. Maybe mom was right, my emotions where the cause of all my ruin.
"I don't know anything about what you are talking", I text back, maybe this was all a foolish idea. Texting an anonymous stranger in the middle of the night, that too a stranger who knew my past, a past my grandfather had tried his best to bury. Because if the happenings of six years back is brought to the limelight now, he would face a blow to his reputation. And I can't do that to him, my parents died when I was four followed by my grandmother, the next year. There was an inflow of applications from here to heaven in those two years. Since then, I was left under my grandfather's wing. He is the only person I can rely on considering the fact that I do not have a single penny to my name. I shouldn't do this, I tell myself as another message pops up.
"I know who is behind it", my fist clench as I read the message but another one follows soon after. "Power belongs to those who take it, Meera. The choice is yours. You have till tomorrow to make your decision."
A woman without power is like a doormat, pretty enough to welcome and docile enough to be trampled on. But what use is power to a twenty seven year old woman awaiting death in her golden cage?
"Who are you?", I text back hastily. There's no way a stranger with no connection to the family could know about that case. It was a well kept secret with everyone involved forced to sign a Non Disclosure Agreement, a secret that couldn't have crossed the threshold of Rai Haveli. A secret that killed everything left in me.
"A mere well wisher", I watch as the message pops up, the vision blurred by the tears in my eyes.
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