ESHANA:HIS REPLACED BRIDE|19+

✧𓍼ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ɢʟᴀꜱꜱ,ꜱʜᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ𓍼✧

♚ᴬᵁᵀᴴᴼᴿ'ˢ ᴾᴼᴵᴺᵀ ᴼᶠ ⱽᴵᴱᵂ ♚

The tension of the morning was still heavy on Eshana's mind as she tried to gather the strength to face her day.

 After the humiliation she endured, she knew she had no choice but to carry on, for herself, and for Mehul. As she walked toward their room, her heart pounded in her chest, but she whispered words of self-encouragement, **"I can do this. You have to do this, Eshana."**

The door to the room creaked open, revealing a darkness so thick it almost swallowed her. Without thinking, she rushed toward the bathroom, wanting to escape the oppressive silence. After quickly freshening up and changing into a Designer Organza Red saree, she came back into the room and flicked on the lights.

What she saw froze her in place.

Eshana stood frozen in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat as the scene before her unfolded like a nightmare. The room was a disaster, mirroring the chaos that had become Mehul's life. Broken glass lay scattered across the floor, jagged pieces of the dressing mirror reflecting the mess of alcohol bottles, cigarette butts, and the faint remnants of a night lost in torment.

And there, lying on the cold, hard floor, was Mehul. His body slumped, lifeless as if the weight of his shattered world had finally brought him down. He was unconscious, his face buried against the ground, his once-strong frame now defeated.

**"Mehul ji!"** Eshana screamed, her voice piercing the stillness of the room.

Horror filled her as she rushed toward him, her heart racing in panic. She managed to lift him enough to get his head resting on the bed. His face was pale, his eyes red and swollen, evidence of the tears he must have shed last night. Her hands trembled as she gently touched his face, trying to rouse him from his unconscious state.

 Her trembling hands found his face, lifting his head gently. His skin was cold, his face pale. His eyes, swollen and red, told the silent story of hours spent crying—crying over Ritika.

"Mehul ji, please..." Eshana whispered, her voice breaking as she cradled his head, resting it on the bed. She shook him lightly, her tears falling onto his face, mixing with the dried ones already there. "Please open your eyes, Mehul ji."

The overpowering smell of alcohol assaulted her senses, making her head spin, but she focused on him. On his broken heart. On his pain.

Mehul had loved Ritika like no one ever could. He had worshipped her, devoted himself to her in ways that were unimaginable.

 For him, Ritika was the center of his universe—the one he dreamed of, the one he built his life around. Every breath he took had been for her.

But for Ritika, it had all been a game.

Eshana knew it. She had watched, helpless, as Ritika toyed with Mehul's heart, leading him on like a puppet on a string. To Ritika, love was a fleeting thrill—a way to pass the time. And when the game became too real, too serious, she had run. Abandoning Mehul. Abandoning everything. Leaving Eshana to pick up the pieces.

"Ritika di... how could you?" Eshana's voice was a broken whisper, her heart aching as she looked at the man who had once been so full of life, now reduced to this. "How could you do this to him? He loved you... he gave you everything. And you... you destroyed him."

Tears streamed down her face as she spoke to the empty room, her words echoing the depth of her pain. She had always looked up to Ritika, admired her for her beauty, her charm, her confidence.