What happens if the guy you truly love takes you for granted?
What happens if you are treated like a slave in your own house?
What happens if he accuses you of not trusting him when he doesn't trust you?
What happens if a guy has to choose between...
"Aru, can you sing me a lullaby, so I can sleep?" My little angel, always so independent, rarely asked for anything like this. I blinked at her in surprise.
"You never ask me for a lullaby. What happened, baby?" I asked softly, brushing her hair back.
Aru smiled her sweet, innocent smile. "Mummy... I made a new friend today, and she said her bade papa or papa always sings a lullaby to her before bed."
Her words brought a pang to my chest. I stared at her, wondering how to respond. Arnav's voice echoed in my mind—those countless times he'd told me that when we had children, he would sing them lullabies just like his mum did for him. It had always
"Mummy!" Aru's voice brought me back to the present, breaking through my daze.
I smiled, brushing aside my thoughts. "Alright, my love. Let's try a lullaby."
Fifteen minutes later, Aru was fast asleep, her tiny arms wrapped around me as she snuggled closer. Despite my best efforts, I had run out of lullabies. It seemed my little angel wasn't too picky—she'd fallen asleep to the sound of my voice alone. Smiling, I kissed her forehead and turned off the lights, ready to sleep.
Just as I was drifting off, my phone buzzed loudly, pulling me back to reality. The screen glowed with the words "Unknown Caller." Suppressing a sigh, I picked up, thinking it might be something urgent.
"Hello?" I answered groggily.
"Hi, Khushi. Can I please meet you tomorrow?" The voice on the other end froze me in place. My heart skipped a beat, the blood rushing to my ears.
"Mr. Arnav," I said through gritted teeth, anger rising with every word, "I have nothing to say to you. Stop calling me."
"Please, Khushi," he said, his voice laced with desperation. "I promise this will be the last time. If you meet me tomorrow, I'll never contact you again."
My mind flashed with warnings from Bhai and Jiji, their advice echoing loud and clear. Still, his pleading tone tugged at me in a way I hated.
"Fine," I snapped, my frustration spilling out. "But let me make myself clear—if you ever try to contact me after this, you'll have to deal with my Bhai."
"Fine," he agreed quickly, almost too quickly. "Meet me at XYZ Café at 7:30 AM. Please, Khushi."
"Fine," I repeated tersely before hanging up, my chest heaving with emotion.
As I placed my phone back on the nightstand, guilt gnawed at me. I shouldn't have agreed to meet him. I was planning to propose to Sam soon, and here I was, meeting my ex-husband. Desperation or not, it felt wrong. But tomorrow, I would make it clear—I was moving forward with my life, and Sam was my future.
The next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window woke me up. Aru lay beside me, her tiny form curled into mine. I kissed her forehead and reached for my phone. The time made my heart race—6:45 AM.
I had barely 45 minutes to prepare to face the Laad Governor.
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