FORCED MARRIAGE WITH BROTHER IN LAW

chapter 68

The house was overflowing with people. Wedding preparations stretched into every corner — music, laughter, the clatter of dishes, relatives gossiping over tea.

Kittu sparkled in the center of it all, the bride-to-be. Every word, every blessing, every question was for her.

And Y/N?

"Bring more sweets."
"Fold these clothes."
"Wash the plates."

Not one question asked her how she had been, what her life in Canada was like, or whether she was happy. But Y/N was used to it. She had grown up invisible, her silence mistaken for obedience.

So she worked. Smiling faintly, nodding, blending into walls.

Nights in Silence

But at night, when the noise finally quieted, Y/N returned to her small guest room. There, with the door locked, she opened her phone.

The screen lit up. And there he was.

Khwaab.

Her little boy, only seven months old then, now four years and growing. His hair stuck up in messy tufts, his eyes bright, his laughter filling the room even through the pixelated video.

"Mama!" he squealed, showing her a scribbled drawing with proud hands. "School tomorrow. Don't wanna go!"

Y/N laughed softly, tears welling as he scrunched his nose, making faces to win her over. "You have to go, Khwaabu," she whispered. "You'll learn so many things. You'll make me proud."

He pouted, folding his arms. "No! Only stay with you."

Her heart ached, but it also filled with warmth. In him, she had found what she'd never known — unconditional love.

The Interruption

One night, as she spoke to Khwaab in hushed tones, the door creaked open.

"Kittu?" Y/N froze, spinning around. Her cousin stood in the doorway, bridal bangels ( after bangel ceremony) still clinking faintly, her expression unreadable.

On the screen, Khwaab's voice rang out.
"Mamaaa, look! Rabbit toy sleeping!" He giggled, holding up the drooping-eared rabbit, his face glowing.

Kittu's eyes widened.

She stepped closer, gaze fixed on the child. His smile. His eyes. His laugh.

The son she had once refused to hold.

The son she had left behind.

The Question

Khwaab noticed her, tilting his head curiously. "Mama? Who's that?" he asked, his voice small but innocent.

Y/N's throat tightened. She couldn't speak.

Kittu stared, her chest heaving, as the word Mama — not meant for her, never meant for her — echoed through the air.

Her son. Calling someone else mother.

Her cousin. The one she had dismissed, insulted, blamed.

Now loved in her place.

Kittu's lips parted, but no sound came. For the first time, her own silence betrayed her.

Because she had never wanted him.
And yet he had found someone who did.

The wedding was only a week away. Guests filled the house, rituals carried on, and every eye was fixed on Kittu — the bride draped in silk and gold.

But inside, Kittu's heart burned.