Forcibly Yours

||Dheers pov||

Yesterday, she had sprained her foot. I don't even know if she's feeling alright today. It's her first day at the office, and as much as I'd love for her to join me at mine, I can't force her. This is her choice, her journey.

When I walked into the room, there she was, standing by the mirror. There was something in her eyes—maybe a touch of nerves, or a flicker of uncertainty. But then, in her reflection, I saw her standing there, looking so incredibly beautiful. I don't know why, but there's something about women in office attire that adds a different kind of grace. She looks like a goddess in traditional dress, but today, she looks... powerful. Boss-like. There's an energy around her that I can feel from here, and it pulls me in. Before I know it, I'm making my way over to her, catching her glance in the mirror.

I can feel her gaze shift toward me. Am I looking alright? Does she see me the way I see her right now? She's so lost in thought, and it's endearing—seeing her with those little expressions, a hint of confusion, a bit of anticipation. She's about to turn, but I reach out, gently holding her arm to stop her, guiding her gaze back to her reflection.

And there we are. A couple, standing side by side. Both in our formal dress, both ready for a new day. It's a moment I'd imagined—a partner who stands with me, an equal, someone I can look at and feel proud of. I'm grateful for that.

"Can I say something?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended. She nods, and that little smile of hers—that bunny smile—lights up her face. It's the kind of smile that makes everything feel right. I could stand here forever, just watching her smile like that.

I tell her, gently, that she doesn't have to wear her nuptial chain or vermilion to work. I know those things mean a lot; they're part of her, part of this life we're building. But it's not about me. It's about her. She's just a girl with dreams, and I want those dreams to breathe, to grow. I don't want this marriage to feel like something that keeps her weighed down.

I raise my hand, showing her my wedding ring—the only sign on me that says I'm married. If I were to take it off, would that change what's in my heart? I want her to know that. I want her to feel free, to move forward without feeling held back by anything, including me.

There's so much I want to tell her, but now doesn't feel like the time. We're still strangers in many ways. She doesn't know me fully, and I don't know her. But I'll be here, every step of the way, ready to listen when she's ready to share. For now, all I want is for her to feel like she's flying—not bound, not held down. Just free.

It was evening when I got home, earlier than usual. Mom had called, saying she and Dad were going to a family gathering, and that Ruhi would be alone. I know Kian is out with Krish tonight. I checked my phone on the way; she'd called once while I was in a meeting. I thought about calling her back, but now I'm already here.

As I entered, I saw Kian leaving. He stopped, a strange look in his eyes, and told me that something was off with Ruhi today—that she seemed different. Sad, maybe. I was heading to our room when Ishaan's call stopped me, his tone urgent, telling me she's having a panic attack.