In the bustling heart of Delhi,four childhood friends navigate the complexities of love, ambition, and family expectations.
In this tale of romance, laughter, and heartfelt moments, will they find their happily ever after, or will the burdens of the...
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Roohi's Pov :
His mother asked him to show me around the house. He simply nodded and motioned for me to follow him. Without a word, he started walking, his long strides making it clear that he wasn't interested in making this tour any more pleasant than necessary.
I followed behind, struggling to keep up in my saree and heels. Is he mad? Can he not see how difficult it is to walk like this? The silence between us was suffocating, so I decided to break it.
"You've been so ignorant," I began.
"I know you've made it abundantly clear that you're not interested in this marriage. But at least stop treating me like I'm invisible."
He didn't even turn around. Not a word, not a glance-nothing. How dare he.
"Do you even realize how many people have been asking me about you? And I have nothing to tell them! How am I supposed to explain this...this whole situation when you refuse to engage?"
Still, nothing. I was beginning to feel like I was talking to a wall. "Mr. Birla, are you even listening to me?"
He didn't glance back. "You don't owe them any answers," he said calmly, his voice like ice. "I'm only doing this because of you."
"Oh, trust me, you've made that point very clear. And it's not like I'm the only one who created this scandal."
He slowed down, his voice dropping to a colder tone. "I told you from the start, Roohi, I never wanted this marriage. But since you want to make everyone happy, go ahead and do whatever you like."
Just as he finished that sentence, I felt my foot catch on the edge of the carpet. Before I knew it, I was tripping forward.
Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed the back of his coat for support. He paused, and without turning around, he said in a calm voice, "If it's too difficult for you to walk in those heels, we can sit in the balcony. It has a seating arrangement, and you can just tell everyone you saw the house. It's not like we're going to get married anyway."
His words stung more than I expected. Is that what he really thinks? I thought, feeling a pang of hurt. He kept reminding me, again and again, that I was the one pushing for this marriage, like I was solely responsible for this mess.
We reached the balcony, and as I sat down, the anger bubbling inside me spilled over.
"It's not only my fault, you know! That scandal wasn't just because of me!" I shot back, my voice tinged with the frustration I'd been holding in.
He finally turned to face me, his expression as calm as ever.
"I know but You're the one because of whom this entire marriage drama is happening-you could have denied it," he said, his voice cold and detached.
His words were like a slap to the face. How dare he put all the blame on me? Furious, I stood up, determined to walk away from this pointless conversation.
