After Advait left Samaira heartbroken on the day that was supposed to be the happiest of her life-their wedding day-her world shatters. Picking up the pieces, she barely manages to rebuild herself when her family insists she marry Aarav, a successfu...
The priest’s chants rise and fall like a cruel melody, blending with the sound of my own heartbeat. I sit there, dressed as a bride, but nothing about this feels sacred or real. My mind is clouded, my thoughts spiraling with disbelief and anger. How did my life come to this in the span of a single evening?
I don’t focus on the flames flickering before me or the sacred mantras being recited. The words are hollow, meaningless. I can’t even look at him—Advait. The man I once trusted, who now sits beside me as if he owns me.
The moment he leans forward with the mangalsutra, my breath hitches. The beads are cold as they brush against my neck, and when he ties the knot, it feels suffocating. Not a promise of unity, not a bond of love, but a chain. A shackle. I close my eyes for a moment, willing myself to stay calm. I won’t cry. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
The priest declares the ceremony complete, but it feels far from over. My mind keeps replaying my father’s horrified expression when Advait barged into the hall. My mother’s tears, her shaking hands. The weight of their pain presses on me, threatening to crush me. I glance at them briefly, standing near the edge of the dais, their faces pale and grief-stricken.
"Samaira!" My mother’s voice trembles, raw with emotion. "Samaira, my child!"
I instinctively turn to her, my chest tightening at the sight of her outstretched arms. For a moment, I want to run to her, to collapse in her embrace and let her tell me that everything will be okay. But that moment vanishes the second Advait stands, towering over everyone with an air of cold finality.
“No,” he says, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. His gaze sweeps over my parents with disdain. “This marriage isn’t about love. It’s about revenge. The pain you caused me when you took my father away—you’ll feel it now. Your daughter belongs to me. And you’ll never see her again.”
“Advait!” my father snaps, his voice trembling but defiant. He steps forward, his fists clenched. “This is madness! If you want revenge, take it out on me—not her!”
Advait takes a step closer to him, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “You think this is just about you?” he says quietly, his voice dripping with venom. “You destroyed my family. Now you’ll know what it feels like to lose yours.”
The room falls silent, the weight of his words suffocating. I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to speak. “I need to take my things,” I say, my voice trembling but steady enough. “At least let me do that.”
Advait turns to me, his expression unreadable. “You don’t need anything,” he replies sharply.
I stare at him, my nails digging into my palms. “You can’t just drag me away like this,” I insist. “I can’t leave without—”
“Without what?” he interrupts, his tone mocking. “Your memories? Your past?” He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “Your life as you knew it is over, Samaira. You’re mine now. Whatever you need, I’ll provide.”
My chest tightens as my desperation grows. “At least let me get my bag,” I try again, forcing my voice to sound calm. “Just my essentials.”
His smirk deepens, and I know he sees through me. “You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” His voice is low, dangerous, meant only for me. “You want to run, don’t you? Or maybe you want a final goodbye to your parents?”
I don’t respond, but the flicker in his eyes tells me he already has his answer. He steps back and raises his voice, addressing the guards. “Take her to the car.”
My heart sinks as two of his men approach, their expressions stoic. I don’t move. My feet feel rooted to the ground, and my pride won’t let me give in so easily.
“If you don’t feel like walking,” Advait says casually, a cruel edge to his tone, “I’ll carry you myself.”
I glare at him, my anger flaring for the first time. “Don’t you dare.”
Before I can react, he steps forward and sweeps me into his arms as if I weigh nothing. My fists slam against his chest, but he doesn’t flinch. “Put me down!” I hiss, my voice low and furious.
His smirk remains intact. “Save your energy, Samaira. You’ll need it.”
The room is a blur as he carries me out, the guards shielding us from my family’s desperate cries. My mother’s voice breaks as she screams my name again, and my father’s protests grow distant. I bite the inside of my cheek, hard enough to taste blood, and keep my gaze fixed on the exit. I won’t cry. Not now. Not ever.
The car door opens, and he sets me down inside with a calculated gentleness that feels more like a warning. He slides in beside me, his presence overwhelming the small space.
As the car begins to move, I stare out of the window, my face blank. The city lights blur past, and my heart aches with the weight of everything I’ve lost.
“I’ll never forgive you for this,” I whisper, not looking at him.
He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, his voice is quiet and unyielding. “You don’t have to. You only have to remember why.”
I clench my fists, my nails biting into my palms. He thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s taken everything from me. But he hasn’t broken me. Not yet.
This isn’t over.
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