The Promised Queen

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒

HRUDAY

Ridhima's words hit me like waves crashing against a rock—relentless, unyielding, each one cutting deeper than the last.

"You've changed," she whispered again, her voice trembling with emotion. "You don't even look at me the same way. You're cold. Distant. Like I don't matter. Like... like I'm just another responsibility for you to check off your list."

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to remain calm. I will let her speak. Let her get it all out.

"And this wedding? It's not for me. It's for your father. For Dev Uncle. For everyone else except us. You don't even want this—"

Her voice cracked, and she wiped at her eyes furiously, her frustration boiling over. "I've tried, Hruday. I've tried to understand you. To reach you. But you just... shut me out. Every single time."

My jaw tightened. Every word she spoke made my chest ache, made the walls I'd built tremble.

"You act like I'm the one at fault for wanting more from this... this arrangement," she continued, her voice rising with each word. "But do you honestly expect me to keep standing on this... this dead end road of your heart and wait until you open up, until you look at me and finally realize. How long should I do it? How long should I keep on waiting for a man who does not even feel the slightest ounce of affection for me?"

That did it.

Something inside me snapped.

I had taken everything she said in silence, but now—now I couldn't hold back.

"And what about you?" I shot back, my voice low but filled with barely restrained anger. 

The calm I clung to so tightly shattered.

Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift in me.

"What about you, Ridhima? What did you do to me?"

She blinked, confused, as if my words made no sense. "What are you talking about?"

"You're seriously going to stand there," I said, my voice growing louder, more intense, "and blame me for everything? As if I was the only one responsible for what happened between us?"

"Hruday, I—"

"Do you have any idea," I interrupted, stepping closer, "what it feels like to pour your heart out to someone who's about to leave? To stand there, knowing they're going oceans apart, and give them everything—every hope, every dream, every piece of your heart—only to be met with... nothing?"

She stared at me, her lips parted, the confusion in her eyes deepening.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered, her voice soft, unsure.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. She didn't know. She really didn't know.

"You left," I said, my voice quieter now, but no less intense. "Like it was the easiest thing in the world. You left like... like none of it mattered. Like our memories didn't matter. The promises didn't matter."

She opened her mouth to respond, but I wasn't finished. I couldn't stop now.

"Do you know how it feels to be on the receiving end of that? To watch you walk away and wonder if any of it was real?"

Her eyes filled with something—panic? sadness?—but she still looked at me like I was speaking a language she didn't understand.

"Hruday... I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice trembling.