Standing in the dimly lit room, facing Ankita, I took a deep breath.
"Uhmm, honestly, I don't know how to confess to you, Ankita," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
The room was sparsely decorated with yellow balloons, her favorite color. It a...
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Ankita's POV:-
As soon as I locked the door behind me, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor.
The weight of everything crashed down on me, and I couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore from my chest. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face, and I covered my mouth to muffle the sound, but it only made the pain inside me worse.
I should be happy, right? That’s what everyone says. That’s what I told myself. Then why don’t I feel it? Why is there no excitement, no relief?
Why do I feel like something’s missing, like a piece of me has been hollowed out?
I clutched my chest, the ache so intense it was as if my heart was physically breaking.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But his face—his hurt, the way his eyes filled with tears, the way he looked at me like I was slipping away—why is it bothering me so much? Why does his pain feel like my own?
I told myself I was doing the right thing, that this decision was for everyone’s good,for his good. But if it’s the right choice, then why does it feel so wrong??
Aryan's POV:
I collapsed onto the bed, my eyes shutting tightly as I tried to block out the whirlwind of emotions crashing over me.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the pain gnawing at my heart.
Ankita’s words, her tears, the way she said 'yes' to the marriage—it all kept replaying in my mind, like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
Why is she doing this? Why is she agreeing to something that’s clearly tearing her apart? I could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice—she’s not happy.
Yet she’s forcing herself to go through with it, and it’s killing me to watch her suffer like this.
I thought I could protect her, that I could be the one to make her happy. But now, seeing her choose this path—choosing to marry someone she barely knows—it feels like I’m losing her. And the worst part?
She doesn’t even realize how much she’s hurting herself or me.
Why, Ankita??? Why??? My brain screamed inside me, over and over, the agony clawing at my chest.
Why don’t you see, Ankita, how much I love you? How much I care for you? How much I want you ?
Every moment with you, every smile, every tear—I’ve been there, haven’t I? I’ve stood by you through everything, and now you’re slipping away, letting someone else take the place I’ve always dreamed of being.
How can you be so blind to what’s right in front of you? I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else, of some stranger stepping into your life. I can't bear the idea of Ansh calling someone else ‘dadda.’ He’s my world, Ankita. You both are.
I love you more than anything, but it’s like you don’t even see me, like all the moments we’ve shared don’t matter anymore.
Why are you doing this? Why are you punishing yourself—and me—with this marriage you don’t even want?I pulled the blanket closer, trying to hide my pain when I felt a soft, familiar presence slip under the covers. A small hand gently caressed my tear-streaked cheek.
"Dadda?"
His little voice broke through my sadness, and I opened my eyes to see my precious boy looking at me, concern filling his tiny face.
"Wai te-te?" he asked, patting my cheek, his innocent eyes searching for answers.
A sad smile tugged at my lips. He’s always the first to know when something’s wrong, even when I try to hide it.
I kissed his palm softly.
'Don’t call me dadda, baby. I'm not your dadda anymore .Soon someone else will take that place," I whispered, my heart aching with every word.
He wiped my tears with his tiny fingers, but the more he wiped, the more they fell.
He didn’t understand, of course. How could he? He’s too young to know the storm raging inside me, too young to know what it means for someone else to take the place.
'Your mumma doesn’t want me to be your dadda, baby. She doesn't love me" I murmured, stroking his hair gently.'
She doesn’t want me..."
His innocent eyes stared at me, filled with nothing but pure love. He didn’t understand my words, but he knew I was hurting.
In his simple, beautiful way, he leaned in and kissed my wet cheek, offering me the only comfort he knew.
Then he laid his little head on my chest, as if that alone could ease the pain. And maybe, just for a moment, it did.
