His Replaced bride ✔

3. Truth Revealed.

Next part up.

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After completing his work, he entered his room which was all dark. He noticed the decoration of flowers, flavoured candles and dim lighting everywhere in his room. He pinched the top of his nose, he clearly said to do nothing in his room but his mother has her ways.

He saw his bride sitting in the middle of the bed, spreading her wedding lehenga all over his king-sized bed. Her face was still covered with a veil, like the whole time. 

Her breath hitched when she heard someone enter the room. 

It was him.

She was fiddling with her fingers, a sign showing she was nervous. What was she going to do now?

"Get up," Abhimaan spoke up in his chilling tone with his hands in his pocket.

He saw her shifting a little. But she didn't make any move.

"I said get up," He said again in his low husky voice. 

She didn't look up. She got up slowly and released her breath which she didn’t know she had been holding. 

He will see my face now! her thoughts screamed.

"Go and change into something casual." He said, no, ordered her in a sharp tone. He had no time to waste. He had an early morning meeting. 

Without giving her another glance, he laid down on the bed, keeping his cell on the nightstand. Adjusting the temperature of the AC and he closed his eyes.

Many things were going on in his mind. Many things he had to settle but at the moment he was just trying to avoid the fact that he was married.

F-ck, he was married!

Whereas, Samaira was stunned by his behaviour. She was looking around to find the changing room and her suitcase which her Aunt sent with her. 

She took small steps and entered the washroom with her luggage. Switching on the lights, the first thing she did was remove her veil. 

After removing the netted cloth, she looked around with her mouth open. There was beautiful, natural material on the floor and walls. Expensive marble bathtub surrounded by velvet curtains. It was pure luxury.  

This is a washroom? Are you kidding me? 

Her subconscious was her biggest enemy, couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Seeing the sindoor filling her parted hair and the mangalsutra on her neck, her eyes filled up with tears. 

She was married and she couldn’t do anything to change that fact. 

She wanted to talk to someone, wanted someone to listen to her. But she had no one, as always. No one listens to her fears and insecurities. She cried again, keeping her hand on her mouth. She didn’t want him to hear her. 

She was waiting for her aunt to clear up everything.

Samaira changed into a cotton night suit. She felt suffocated in that bridal lehenga. It wasn’t hers.

She would have admired the beauty of that wedding attire but now it was just a burden, which she was forced to carry. 

She thought about spending the night in the washroom, maybe it could be her safe place. But she couldn’t do that. 

Taking small steps out of the en-suite, she peeped out to check. She found all the lights switched off, but the dim light of candles was giving a clear view of his face. She stepped a little closer and saw the most charming face of her life.