The weeks that followed blurred together, a strange mix of deception and something Jiya couldn’t quite name. Her mornings began with watching Atharv leave for work, his sharp suits and measured steps filling the house with a sense of purpose. As soon as the door closed behind him, her chest would tighten with guilt, knowing that her loyalty was divided.
In public, she played the role of the supportive wife. At social gatherings, she smiled at his business partners, impressed with the effortless way he commanded respect. Behind closed doors, she scoured through files and documents he left on his desk, gathering information to report back to her family.
One evening, as she carefully went through one of his work portfolios, the phone rang. The familiar number of her older brother flashed on the screen. She hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Jiya," His voice was calm but firm, the same tone he always used when reminding her of the task at hand. "Any progress?"
Her throat tightened. "I’m working on it, bhaiya," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But…"
"But what?" He interrupted the sharpness in his tone unmistakable. "Don’t tell me you’re losing focus. You know what’s at stake here. Our family—"
"I know," she cut in, guilt and pressure clashing inside her. "I haven’t forgotten."
"Good," he said, his voice softening only slightly. "We need those financial details soon. Don’t get distracted, Jiya. Remember why you’re there."
The weight of his words hung over her long after she hung up the call. She knew her family counted on her to carry out the plan, to avenge the years of hardship they had endured because of Atharv’s father. And yet, with each passing day, her resolve weakened.
Her eyes wandered to Atharv’s desk again, where financial reports and confidential files lay untouched. She could easily take photos, send them to her brother, and advance her mission, but something inside her hesitated.
She didn’t realize how long she’d been staring until she heard Atharv’s voice from behind her.
"Jiya?"
Startled, she quickly turned, the guilt bubbling up in her chest. Atharv stood in the doorway, his expression soft yet concerned. He stepped into the room, his presence filling the space, and Jiya could feel the tension simmering between them.
"I didn’t hear you come in," she said, her voice shaky.
He walked over, glancing briefly at the documents on his desk before looking at her. "You’ve been spending a lot of time in here."
"I—" she stammered, struggling to come up with an excuse. "I was just curious about your work."
Atharv raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You don’t have to pretend, Jiya. I know business is probably the last thing you’re interested in."
Her heart raced. Did he suspect something? Or was this just his usual aloofness? She couldn’t tell. But the warmth in his voice, the way he seemed to soften in her presence, made it harder to keep up her facade.
He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. "If you want to know more about what I do, you can ask. I’ll tell you."
Jiya’s breath hitched. The proximity, the way his eyes held hers—it was all too much. She tried to look away, but Atharv gently cupped her chin, tilting her face back to meet his gaze.
"You don’t have to be afraid of me, Jiya," he said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. "I know this marriage wasn’t what you expected. It wasn’t what I expected either. But… I’m trying."
The sincerity in his words shook her. This was the moment she’d been dreading, the moment when the line between her duty and her heart became too blurred to distinguish. His touch, his warmth, the way he seemed to care—it wasn’t what she had anticipated when she agreed to this marriage.
"I—" she began, her voice faltering, but before she could finish, Atharv’s lips were on hers.
The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were testing the waters. But when Jiya didn’t pull away, something shifted. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. Heat surged through her, and for a brief, fleeting moment, the world outside—their families, the secrets, the lies—ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, the unspoken tension finally giving way to something real.
When they broke apart, both of them breathless, Atharv rested his forehead against hers. "I’ve wanted to do that for a while," he admitted, his voice low, filled with an emotion that made Jiya’s heartache.
She didn’t know what to say. The guilt gnawed at her insides, but there was something else too—something she didn’t want to admit. She liked this. She liked being close to him, feeling the intensity of his affection, and it scared her more than anything else.
"I…" Jiya started, but the words caught in her throat.
Atharv pulled back slightly, his gaze soft yet searching. "It’s okay," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "We don’t have to rush anything. I just want you to know… you don’t have to be alone in this."
His words struck her like a knife to the chest. Alone? He thought she felt alone in this marriage, that she was struggling to adjust. If only he knew the truth—that she wasn’t just struggling to adjust to him, but also fighting the battle between love and betrayal.
"I’m not used to this," Jiya finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I don’t know how to be a wife."
Atharv chuckled softly, his hands resting on her waist. "Neither do I," he said with a wry smile. "But we’ll figure it out together. We’ll take it one step at a time."
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to lose herself in this new life, in the idea that maybe, just maybe, they could be something real. But her family’s words echoed in her mind, their faces flashing before her eyes—her mother’s worn-out expression, her father’s bitter disappointment, Raghav’s endless demands.
She was here for a reason. And that reason was not to fall in love with Atharv.
"I should go to bed," Jiya said abruptly, stepping out of his embrace. "It’s late."
Atharv’s expression faltered, but he didn’t stop her. He nodded, his eyes searching hers one last time before letting her go. "Goodnight, Jiya."
"Goodnight," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she turned and left the room, her heart pounding in her chest.
That night, Jiya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She could still feel the warmth of Atharv’s hands on her skin, the lingering taste of his kiss on her lips. How had things gotten so complicated? She was supposed to be here for revenge, to bring his family to its knees, but now… now she wasn’t sure she could do it.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at it, seeing a message from her brother.
"Any progress?"
Jiya clenched her jaw, the weight of her family’s expectations crashing down on her once again. She couldn’t afford to get distracted. Not now. Not when she was so close to completing her mission.
With a heavy heart, she typed a response.
"Soon."
But deep down, Jiya wasn’t sure if she could keep her promise.
