Samaira woke up to the soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, her head heavy with the remnants of troubled dreams. The events of the previous night felt surreal, almost like a distant memory. Advait's coldness, the strange tension between them—it was all overwhelming. She couldn't escape the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
A soft knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," Samaira called, her voice hoarse.
The servant entered, bowing respectfully. "Good morning, ma’am. Mr. Advait has requested your presence for breakfast," he said.
Samaira nodded, her curiosity piqued. Advait had invited her? It felt odd, but she was still too disoriented to question him directly. She nodded, signaling that she would be down soon, before quickly getting ready.
---
Downstairs, the dining room was set with an array of breakfast items—fresh fruit, toast, eggs, and coffee. Advait was already seated at the table, flipping through a newspaper. He didn’t look up as she entered, offering only a casual "Morning."
"Morning," Samaira replied, taking a seat across from him. The tension was palpable, but she didn’t know how to break it. The whole situation felt strained, but she chose to stay silent, hoping for some answers.
Before either of them could speak further, there was a knock on the door. The servant entered again, looking a little more hurried this time. "Excuse me, sir," he said, "a guest has arrived."
Advait raised an eyebrow, glancing at Samaira, his expression unreadable. He stood up abruptly. "Let's go," he muttered, as though he had been expecting this.
Samaira followed him, more questions bubbling to the surface. Who could this guest be? And why was Advait so tense?
They reached the foyer, and there, standing at the door, was Advait’s mother. Elegant, poised, and radiating an air of authority, she stepped forward with a bright smile.
"Samaira, my dear!" she exclaimed, before pulling Samaira into an unexpected, warm hug. "It’s so wonderful to meet you in person!"
Samaira was taken aback, her body stiff at first. She hadn’t expected this level of familiarity. After a moment, she awkwardly returned the hug, still uncertain about what was going on.
Advait, who had been standing just behind them, stepped between them sharply. "You’ve always cared more about her than me," he said, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. "For her, you even stopped talking to me."
Samaira blinked, her mind racing. What was he talking about? She glanced between Advait and his mother, confusion written all over her face.
Advait, noticing her bewilderment, softened his tone. "You don’t understand, do you?" he asked, his words almost too casual. "After I left you at the altar, I went back home expecting a different kind of reception. But instead, my mother... she didn't talk to me for weeks. She was furious. All because of you."
Samaira was silent, processing the unexpected revelation. This was a side of the story she had never heard.
His mother, sensing the growing tension, quickly intervened. She laughed softly, brushing it off. "Well, that’s all in the past now, isn’t it?" Her voice was warm, almost soothing. "What matters is that we’ve moved on from all that, and we’re here now."
She turned to Samaira, beaming. "I’m so happy you’ve forgiven him, dear. Now, let’s focus on the future. I’m going to make sure you two get married in front of my eyes this time. No running away, Advait."
Samaira froze at her words. Married? She barely knew how to react. The shock was overwhelming.
But Advait, without skipping a beat, leaned in slightly closer to Samaira, his eyes hardening. He spoke with such calm precision that it sent a chill down her spine.
"She’s already Mrs. Advait Singh Shikhawat," he said plainly, his words directed at his mother but clearly meant for Samaira to hear.
Advait's mother clapped her hands together with delight, oblivious to the weight of his words. "How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "You’ve both put the past behind you. I’m so happy to see this new beginning, after everything you’ve both been through."
Samaira’s heart pounded in her chest. *New beginning?* She didn’t feel like she was starting anything. This wasn’t her decision—she was trapped in a situation she couldn’t escape.
Before she could voice her concern, Advait leaned closer to her, his face inches from hers. His voice dropped to a whisper, low enough that only she could hear.
"You know she’s a heart patient, right?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "When she found out about my betrayal... it nearly killed her. Her health has been fragile since then."
Samaira’s throat tightened, her heart sinking.
Advait pulled back slightly, his gaze flicking briefly to his mother, who was still smiling, clearly imagining her dream of a perfect wedding coming true.
He turned his focus back to Samaira, his voice now firm, but his expression soft. "If she hears that I forced you into this marriage, God knows what will happen. You saw how she reacted before. For her health’s sake, please... play along. Not for me, but for her."
The plea in his eyes was almost imperceptible, but Samaira felt the weight of his words. She didn’t want to be manipulated, but the thought of causing his mother any harm made her stomach churn with guilt.
Advait’s mother, oblivious to the underlying tension, continued talking about the wedding plans, excited about the idea of seeing her son and Samaira together, finally moving past the years of separation.
But Samaira was numb, trapped in a web of manipulation that she couldn’t see a way out of.
YOU ARE READING
UNWILLINGLY HIS
RomanceAfter 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...