𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 12

Manvi's voice echoed through the room, sharper than ever. "Aisha! I'm telling you, close your laptop right now or it's going straight into the gutter!"

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time today. Why on earth do they have such a massive problem with my laptop? Oh wait, I know why.

Anaya entered the room next, twirling in her bright pink saree, looking like she was ready to pose for a Bollywood shoot. "Aisha, come on yaar. We're dressed and waiting for you. Pooja ke liye hum late ho jaayenge."

I gave her an exaggerated smile. "Oh no, we can't be late for the pooja! What a tragedy." My sarcasm was dripping at this point.

Anaya rolled her eyes but grinned. "Don't act like a brat. Even you look good in a saree."

So, here we are, all of us getting ready for Ganesh pooja. Well, they're getting ready, fully invested in the festivities. To be honest, I couldn't care less about all these rituals. I mean, no offense to anyone, but I don't really believe in gods.

But of course, these girls are forcing me to wear a saree. Pata nahi kya hoga mera. The very thought of draping myself in six yards of fabric was enough to make me groan inwardly.

I glanced at my laptop screen one last time. It's not like I was browsing aimlessly—I had been busy searching for countries to escape to.

---

As I slipped into the blue saree, my mind wandered back to the laptop. The map of the world stared back at me, those little red dots marking countries I could potentially run to.

It wasn't my first time contemplating escape, but for some reason, it hurt more this time. Was it the weight of what I was leaving behind? Or the realization that I might never truly be free? I couldn't decide.

I tightened the pallu around my shoulder, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Who was I fooling, really? This life? This mask of normalcy? It wouldn't last long.

A knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. "Aisha! Are you coming or what?"

"Haan, coming!" I called back, trying to shake off the heaviness in my chest.

As I stepped out, Radhika took me to her room, where my personal stylist awaited. Anaya was already there, her impatience palpable. "Fast, bitch! I have to do your makeup."

I scowled but didn't argue. "Just keep it natural," I said, resigned. She nodded, and Manvi began curling my hair. I didn't stop her—there was no point. She was determined to style me her way.

While Anaya was applying blush, Radhika broke the silence. "Can I—can we ask you something, Aisha?"

I looked up, curious. "Yeah, what's up?"

Manvi, in the middle of curling my hair, shot a glance at Radhika. "What's going on between you and Mr. Malhotra?"

I had to fight back a bitter laugh. Oh, nothing. Just him claiming me as his and me melting every time he's near, even though I keep rejecting him. Instead, I replied with a simple, "Nothing."