In the past 24 hours, I went to hell and back. As if being kidnapped wasn't traumatic enough, I impulsively confessed my love to Abhi, thinking if I didn’t, I’d regret it forever—and all he did was stare at me, blankly. Not that I could blame him.
“Ah! Koi mujhe chullu bhar paani de do, main doob marti hoon,” I muttered softly.
( Someone give me a handful of water so I can drown myself )“Yeh lo,” Dadi said, pouring some water onto the dough I was kneading for rotis. I blinked, caught off guard. “Didn’t you ask for water?” she asked.
( Here you go )“Oh, yeah, yeah,” I stammered, cringing. Ish, god, this is so embarrassing.
“I’m going to the temple. Tell Abhi to take his medicine on time,” Dadi reminded me, heading out.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, trying to refocus on the dough in front of me.
Just then, Akshit walked up to me. “Bhabhi, can I have five minutes of your time?” he asked.
I held up my hands, now covered in flour. “Seriously? Look at my hands.”
“Just five minutes. It’s really urgent,” he insisted, a little desperate.
I sighed. “Fine. But you’re so stubborn.”
I quickly washed and dried my hands, and Akshit led me to a room—his, I assumed, as I’d never been inside before.
Standing in the middle of his room, I watched as he opened his cupboard and reached for something.
"Akshit, hurry up! I still have to give meds to your brother; otherwise, he’s not going to—" My words died as my gaze locked on the item he was holding.
He turned around with a proud grin. "Well, what do you think?"
My jaw dropped, and I stumbled forward, speechless. "How? I… I…" My fingers reached out, almost trembling as I touched the glass, now perfect and whole.
I remembered the moment I’d lost it—the painting slipping from my hands in the chaos, the sound of the glass shattering against the rough pavement as those men forced me into the van. Seeing it like this, perfectly restored, felt surreal.
I glanced up at Akshit, a mix of disbelief and gratitude in my gaze.
Akshit laughed softly. "After you went missing, I went to look around and found this painting lying there. It was smashed up—glass completely shattered, and even a side of the frame was, you know… cracked and barely holding together." He shook his head, his eyes shining with pride. "But I knew it meant something. So, I took it to this old repair shop, begged them to try and fix it… and they did, somehow. A miracle, really. They swore it was impossible at first."
He handed me the painting, now restored, and my heart twisted, tears brimming in my eyes. "Akshit… I thought I’d never see this again. To think… it’s right here, and it’s… it’s perfect."
YOU ARE READING
The Unchosen Bride
RomanceWhat happens when a young woman finds herself standing at the altar, not as the chosen bride, but as the last-minute replacement for her elder sister who has fled? Forced into a marriage that was never meant to be hers, she faces a future filled wit...