Dhruv Roy, a 30-year-old CEO and professor, lived a perfectly structured life. Aradhya Sharma, his 21-year-old student, was the complete opposite-spirited, carefree, and rebellious. She hated him, and their clashes in class were constant.
But her wo...
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The hall erupted in applause the moment Dhruv filled my hairline with vermilion. Tears streamed down my cheeks as the priest declared us husband and wife. The words felt like a sentence: “They are now legally married and have exchanged the seven vows.” My heart burned with hatred as Mr. Roy congratulated us, “Junior Mr. and Mrs. Roy, congratulations.”
Mrs. Roy kissed my forehead with a smile, “Finally, the Lakshmi of our house is here.” But I was far from feeling blessed. My mother approached for a hug, but I stepped back, my voice trembling. "I-I will never forgive you and dad," I declared, my heart hardened by betrayal. My father stood by, a weak smile crossing his face. “Take care of my princess,” he whispered to Dhruv, “she’s my whole world.”
World? I scoffed silently. If I were his world, he wouldn’t have forced me into this. Dhruv caught my glare. He gave a slight nod, but his words meant nothing to me now. “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of,” he said. I clenched my fists, the venom in my voice barely contained. “You’re not a man of your word,” I muttered as he led me toward the car.
The drive to his home was a quiet, suffocating affair. When we arrived, I tried to unlock my door, but Dhruv stopped me. “Wait,” he said, stepping out of the car and walking around to open my door. For a moment, I was stunned, but his hand stretched toward me. “I know your rules. No touching, but you can hold on if you’re struggling with that dress.” His voice was calm, and for just a second, I softened as I accepted his help.
But reality hit as we approached the grand mansion. Under the twinkling stars, I felt like a prisoner, walking into a decorated cage. The lights were dazzling, the drums loud, and my heart heavy. Mrs. Roy gestured toward a pot of rice. “Kick this,” she instructed. I kicked, maybe a little too hard, sending the pot flying down the steps. Dhruv bit back laughter while everyone else looked shocked. “It’s fine,” Mrs. Roy smiled awkwardly, “we have a strong daughter-in-law now.”
The night wasn’t over yet. Mr. Roy pointed to the sky, and a spectacular display of fireworks lit up the heavens. “Welcome to the family,” the fireworks spelled out. For a moment, I smiled through my tears, but as soon as the lights faded, the weight of my forced marriage returned.
Inside the mansion, the traditional welcome awaited. Mrs. Roy made me dip my feet in red paint before stepping into the house, leaving my footprints behind. My foot slipped, and instinctively, I grabbed Dhruv’s arm. Time seemed to stop as our eyes met. “I—” I stammered, but he didn’t let me finish. Without warning, he scooped me into his arms. “Can’t let the house get dirty,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.
My heart raced as he carried me. We posed awkwardly for photos, my patience wearing thin. Finally, I managed to ask, “Can you take me to the bathroom so I can wash my feet?” He obliged. After freshening up, I returned to find him lounging on the bed, looking far too comfortable for my liking. “You haven’t changed yet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I looked around, realizing I had no idea where my clothes were. “Mom set them in the closet,” he said, gesturing toward a door.
The walk-in closet was massive, one side filled with clothes for me, the other with his—mostly black and white, fitting his cold personality. As I selected a simple nightdress, I muttered, “His clothes match his soul.”
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Aradhya’s bridal look haunted my thoughts. She looked different, not ugly as I’d imagined, but it didn’t matter. My parents’ efforts to welcome her were overwhelming, but her father’s words echoed in my mind: I couldn’t help her.
For the first time, I had broken my word. The guilt gnawed at me, but I couldn’t change the past. When Aradhya emerged from the bathroom, she looked exhausted, her eyes ringed with dark circles. “Why are you still lying here?” she snapped. “Go somewhere else; I want to sleep.”
“This is my room,” I reminded her, “why should I go?”
She pouted mockingly. “But you promised my father to make me happy.”
Her words cut deep. I felt the weight of my broken promises. “Fine,” I said, “I’ll sleep on the couch.” As I moved to leave, she smirked. Her victory was small, but it stung.
Author's Note With a heavy heart I'm writing this, one of my favorites died on 16 of October 2024. Yes I'm talking about Liam Payne. I have no words to put my grief in. For the past few nights I couldn't even sleep every minute I'm thinking about his tragic death. It's quite disturbing for my mental health I tried to talk about it but everyone gave me a space to heal. I have written this chapter before his death but couldn't edit dude to my state. My condolences are for Bear and whole Payne family. I know we are to late none of us could save him from his tragic death but all I want to say is that never take your mental illness a joke seek help from someone you trust. Please take care of yourselves because your life matters and the other thing I would like to address is never spread hate for someone either that person is a celebrity or an ordinary man. Guys thank you for that wait and I'll try to give you a update soon just pray for Liam's forgiveness. I hope his son bear would able to see his father's incredible role in other's lives because he wasn't bad he was just mentally sick and his son needs to know the actual identity of his father. I hope kate Cassidy could move on and heal fastly because these scars are for lifetime. Love you guys and thank you for 200 reads it's one of the achievements of mine. Bye bye till next update.
