Sweetest Sin

✨ Desire Denied ✨

Eesha's POV.

The sound of the door closing feels like a final blow—like being sealed in my own tomb. My fingers clutch desperately at my dupatta, seeking comfort in the familiar fabric, but even that feels foreign now. Everything does.

The tears come without warning. Hot, heavy drops that blur my vision and streak down my cheeks. I try to hold them back, just like I've always done at home, but I can't. Not anymore. My shoulders shake with the force of my sobs, and I press my hand against my mouth to muffle the sound.

Why am I always the one left behind?

The thought burns through me like acid. I've spent my whole life being the afterthought—the quiet one, the good one, the invisible one. At home, I was always just... there. In the background. While Di commanded attention with her beauty and confidence, I faded into the shadows. Maa and Papa barely noticed me unless they needed something. Even then, their eyes would slide past me like I was made of glass.

And now... now I'm married. But not because anyone wanted me. No. I'm here because Di ran away, leaving chaos in her wake. Like always. And I'm the convenient solution. The spare. The replacement.

I'm nothing but a last option.

The truth of it makes me cry harder, my entire body trembling with the force of holding back my screams. I want to rage, to break something, to demand why—why am I never enough? Why am I always the one who has to pick up the pieces? But I can't. I don't know how. I've never learned to fight back, to stand up for myself. I've only ever learned to be quiet, to accept, to endure.

My wedding lehenga feels like it's suffocating me now. Each crystal, each thread of embroidery—they weren't meant for me. They were meant for Di. Everything was always meant for Di.

"You're so lucky," everyone kept saying today. "Married into the Rajwansh family. Such a good match."

But they don't know. They don't understand what it's like to be married to a man who looked through you during the entire ceremony. A man who probably hates the very sight of you because you're not the sister he was supposed to marry.

When my sobs finally quiet into hiccups, my face feels raw and my eyes burn. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room. My eyes are swollen and red. I look exactly how I feel: broken.

I can't cry anymore, I tell myself firmly, even as fresh tears threaten to fall. I have to be stronger than this.

My legs shake as I stand, moving toward my hastily packed suitcase. My fingers tremble as I unzip it, searching for something—anything—that feels like me. I find a cotton saree. Not glamorous like Di would wear but comforting. Safe.

Just as I rise, holding the saree close to my chest like armor, I hear it—the sound that makes my heart stop.

Click.

The door.

I turn slowly, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. My fingers clutch the saree tighter, my knuckles turning white. As I lift my eyes, I already know who it is. Who else would it be?

Dev.

He fills the doorway with his presence, and suddenly I feel smaller than ever. More insignificant than ever. My throat closes up, and I fight the urge to step back, to hide, to disappear.

But there's nowhere to go. This is my life now—standing in a room that isn't mine, wearing clothes that weren't meant for me, facing a man who never wanted me.