𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝑬𝒍𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒓 𝙾𝚏 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝗧𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃

"T-t-tum ne d-d-dhokha diya h-h-hai m-mujhe... y-you p-p-pathetic... ch-ch-cheater!"
(You... you betrayed me... you pathetic... cheater!)

The words trembled, shattering in the air like fragile glass. Her tongue stumbled with every syllable, her voice breaking under the weight of betrayal and humiliation. She had lived with her stammer all her life - a cruel shadow that followed her everywhere - yet never had it made her feel so small, so incomplete, so utterly unworthy as it did now.

If only... if only her voice hadn't betrayed her. If only her words could flow like anyone else's - she would've screamed her hatred at him, spat out every ounce of disgust she felt. She would've told him she didn't love him anymore - loud, fierce, unshaken.

But the pain was louder.

Rage burned through her trembling frame as she raised her hand and slammed it into the glass mirror beside her. The sharp crack echoed through the room - and in an instant, the mirror shattered, splintering like her heart into a thousand glittering pieces. The glass sliced into her delicate skin, blood blooming in thin red streams across her hand.

He stood frozen before her - a statue carved from shock and disbelief. He had never seen this side of her - this wild, broken storm. He took a step forward instinctively, but froze again when his gaze met hers.

There wasn't pain for her wounded hand in those eyes.
There was something else - something deeper. A strange ache he couldn't name.

Was it heartbreak?
Was it disgust?
Or was it the horrifying realization that she had finally seen the truth of who he really was?

-----
(Full scene in Prolonged)