𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 : Where Opposite Attracts

18 (𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞)

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VANSHIKA'S POV

The first thing I felt wasn't the sunlight or the cold morning air.
It was pain.
Blinding, stabbing, cramping pain.

I sucked in a breath sharply, my hand flying to my abdomen as if by instinct—clutching, pressing, trying to soothe what couldn't be soothed. My body curled in on itself involuntarily, like it knew this drill too well. Another wave of pain shot through me, this one sharper, more violent than before, and I groaned out loud.

Great. Just great.

The realization hit me like a truck: it was that time of the month.

I blinked slowly, trying to get my bearings. The room was dim, the curtains drawn, but the dull light creeping in made it obvious—I had barely slept. A few hours, maybe. Not even deep sleep. Just patches of tossing, turning, and a faint sense of discomfort building through the night, like a storm quietly gathering strength.

And now, the storm had arrived.

"Ughhh..." I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why now?"

It was so unfair. The cramps were worse this time. My entire lower body felt like someone had twisted it like a wet towel and left it knotted.

God, what did I do in my past life to deserve this?

I tried shifting positions—laying on my side, curling tighter, hugging my knees—but nothing helped. I felt sweat bead on my forehead. A pitiful whimper escaped my lips.

Another jab of pain. Another groan.

I flopped back on the bed with a loud thud, limbs giving up entirely.

"Shit... it hurts," I whispered into the pillow, my voice cracked and dry.

And in that fragile, aching moment, my mind, for no reason, thought of something useless, very useless—that if I had married someone I loved, what could have happen yesterday?

Thank you, God. Thank you for saving me from that disaster.
If I had ended up with that, and had cramps like this? Shit, that would suck.

But... Aryan?

My train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door—soft, careful.

"Vanshika?" It was Aryan's voice. Gentle. Low. Full of concern. "What's wrong?"

I froze.

My first instinct? Defensiveness. I wasn't used to anyone checking in on me like this. Especially not a man.

"What do you want?" I asked stiffly, trying to mask the pain in my voice, though I was sure I failed miserably.

There was a pause before he replied. "Can I come in?"

Huh? He ignored my question entirely.

I frowned. Typical Aryan. Doing things his way.

Still curled up, I nodded before realizing that, of course, he couldn't see me through a closed door.