𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

3.

The mattress shifted under my weight as I sat down on the edge of the bed, and my hands shivered slightly. Yuvraj's persistence to marry me drove me to a dead end. He wasn't ready to hear me, and so wasn't my family as if God had sworn to make my life full of people who fail to understand me or maybe they don't want to even bother to understand me. I also knew if I gave in I would lose all my dreams to shatter to pieces.

My dreams were so dear to me.

I raised my head, our eyes met, his eyes still cold, no sense of humanity in a far sight. "Wasn't I clear? I'm not marrying you. I've said it ten times now, don't you get it?" I shouted.

"You have no choice, neither me," he replied.

"You should call off this marriage, you selfish bastard." How could he say there was no choice or option when the only solution was to cancel this marriage.

"It's not possible, don't you get it?"

I groaned, tilting my head back, and a fresh streak of tears fell down. I rose from the bed and started pacing around the room, my mind racing with thoughts. My heart and mind were restless.

I stopped turned sharply on my heels and spoke, "Everyone's asking me to marry you, but there are things that need to be done...hamari koi rasam ni hui hai, na haldi, sangeet, or kya kya, mere kuch sapne hai meri shadi ke liye and not to mention I don't want to be someone's replaced bride."

[There are some pre-wedding rituals that need to be done and what not, I have some dreams for my wedding.]

He didn't bat an eye, making my blood boil more. It's the way he had to show his superiority, by showing nonchalance as if we weren't discussing something important. I marched to him and suddenly held him by his shirt's collar. I had no control over my hand. "Tum bhi bakiyo ki tarah pagal ho, ye shadi tumhare liye phle bhi business thi or abhi bhi, good thing my sister cannot marry you."

[You're just as crazy as others, this wedding was a business for you then and it's the same now too]

He held my hand, trying to remove my grip from his shirt. I clutched the fabric more tightly before suddenly removing my hand and pushing him back. I watched him lose balance and stumble backwards, his hand trying to hold onto something for support.

My eyes wandered back to the wall where I had placed a WIP. It was a new work, I had started to learn glass art very recently and it was one of my almost completed works that I was looking forward to. I saw his hands crash into it, smashing it to pieces with a loud noise.

"My work," I gasped. The sound of my heart shattering into pieces was louder than that of that glass.

"You really ruin everything with your presence," I muttered, watching those broken pieces of glass which was dedication and hard work. And I knew he probably wouldn't get it and must think I was overreacting, every reaction I had to my passion was an overreaction to my parents, and he wouldn't be too different.