Chapter 19
IRA
I was trying to be happy. My family was excitedly preparing for my wedding, just three days away. Today, some rituals were happening at Kabir's house, so we were all heading there.
After a long time, I wore a blue saree, matching bangles, and let my naturally straight hair fall over my shoulders.
This time, I didn't curl it. Aryan always liked me in curls, but Prashant preferred my natural straight hair.
No one ever believed me when I told them I didn't use a straightener; my hair was naturally straight, thick, and jet black.
I wore a ready-made saree because I didn't know how to drape one myself, and I hated asking my mom for help. Anyway, she was already busy with the ritual preparations. I was casually scrolling through my phone when a notification popped up, and my heart skipped a beat.
Prashant.
He had just sent me a message.
Excitedly, I opened it. He'd sent me a PDF. I tapped to view it, and my world came to a sudden halt. I froze, double-checked the PDF, hoping I was wrong.
His wedding was tomorrow.
He was getting married before me.
I remembered sending him my marriage invitation two days ago. He'd seen it but didn't reply. Not even a dry "congrats." And now? He just sent me his own invitation card. I read the card:
Together with their families,
Prashant & Mohini Joyfully invite you to celebrate their wedding as they begin a new chapter of love and togetherness.
Well, fine. We had moved on. It was for the best. Kabir was a good person, and I was sure I'd be happy with him. Maybe one day, I'd fall for him, and we'd live happily ever after.
I typed out a reply:
"Congratulations to you both! Wishing you a lifetime filled with love, joy, and endless happiness. Thank you for the invitation, looking forward to celebrating your special day!"
He saw it instantly, like he'd been waiting for my reply.
I took two months off work for my wedding, while Prashant took just fifteen days after me and managed to get engaged and married within that short span. How quickly he made decisions, like he couldn't wait to own his beautiful little wife.
Ira, stay strong. Focus on your fiancé, not your past.
I checked Aryan's WhatsApp status. He had posted a selfie with his daughter, Swara, adorable, cuddled against his chest. A smile tugged at my lips. Swara looked like her mother but had hints of Aryan in her eyes.
I wondered, briefly, if I had married Aryan, would I have ever made him this happy? The answer was simple: no. Avni was meant for him. I was genuinely happy for both of them.
Sure, in the beginning, I hated them for breaking me. But I forgave them, eventually. And moved on.
"We've arrived," Mom announced, nodding toward a two-story house draped in marigold flowers.
The driver halted the car. Mr. and Mrs. Rajput approached us quickly, smiles stretching across their faces.
"We're so happy you came," Mrs. Rajput said, her eyes landing on me. "Oh my goodness, you look just stunning, Ira."
"Thank you," I smiled.
We stepped into the house, buzzing with chatter and laughter. Guests were already mingling. Thankfully, I'd chosen to wear a saree instead of a dress as everyone was dressed in traditional attire.
Kabir walked up to me with that same boyish smile. I was even beginning to like that smile and those warm eyes.
"You look great today," he said with appreciation in his eyes. He looked handsome in a navy blue formal suit.
"Didn't I look great every day?" I teased him, raising an eyebrow.
He chuckled softly. "You're great, inside and out, Ira. I'm happy to have you in my life."
"Feelings are mutual, Mr. Doctor," I replied, smiling before glancing at my parents. They were deep in conversation with Kabir's parents, and looked truly happy. That alone was enough for me.
"Ira, my beautiful girl..."
A shiver ran down my spine. Amish Patel. I shot my eyes at him as he stepped toward me. He reached me and instantly pulled me into a suffocating hug.
"Uncle Amish," I forced a smile and hugged him back.
"Look how happy my girl is with my Kabir," he said, his hand lingering far too long on my waist before he finally let go. Then he glanced at Kabir. "Just keep her happy or I swear, I'll break your nose. She means more to me than my own family."
"Of course, Uncle Amish, you don't have to tell me to keep my woman happy," Kabir replied, possessively placing a hand on my shoulder and gently pulling me toward him.
"Mr. Patel..." My father walked up just in time, and I exhaled in relief as Amish turned to greet him, leaving us alone.
Kabir looked at me. "Are you not comfortable with Uncle Amish?"
"No...no... I'm perfectly fine," I corrected him and plastered a smile before he suspected anything else. Kabir was smarter than I thought.
"Come on. Let me give you a tour of your house."
"My house?" I frowned, chuckling softly.
"In three days, you'll be living here. So yes, it's yours now."
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I looked around the hall as everyone sat praying, but Kabir was nowhere in sight. He'd told me he'd be back in five minutes, just going to the washroom. But it had been more than thirty minutes since he left.
Finally, the rituals ended, and the priest approached me to give blessings.
"Where is your fiancé?" he asked, applying a red tikka to my forehead and tying a red thread around my wrist. Then he placed the same red thread in my palm. "This is for your fiancé. Tie it on him yourself...it's part of the ritual."
I smiled and gave him a nod.
"Where's Kabir?" Mom asked, glancing around the hall.
"I don't know," I replied.
"You should check on him, sweetheart," she said, placing a hand on my shoulder and nudging me toward the stairs. "Try his room first."
"Mom, are you crazy? How can I go into his room unannounced?" I glared at her, but she just pushed me gently again.
"Just go...he'll be your husband in three days," she winked.
I wanted to refuse her but gave up the idea and headed upstairs. I remembered where Kabir's room was from the earlier house tour. But just as I was about to turn toward it, a scream rang out.
A terrified, agonizing scream like a wounded animal.
I froze. My eyes widened, I clutched my chest as my heart jumped into my throat.
"What the hell was that?" I muttered, glancing downstairs. But no one seemed to have heard it due to the music system in the hall was playing.
Without thinking, I followed the sound, but everything went silent again.
"Was I hearing things?" I whispered to myself, glancing around the empty hallway. There was no sign of anyone. No voices. No footsteps. Just silence.
"Maybe someone's pulling a prank," I mumbled, shaking my head and turned toward Kabir's room again but halted.
There were muffled voices coming from a room just a few steps away.
"Please... please don't kill me..." A woman's voice.
My breath caught as I froze a moment, processing what I just heard. A woman crying, begging for help. What was happening here?
Before I could stop myself, I was already making my way towards the door, peeking through the small crack.
What I saw shook me to the core.
Kabir was kneeling beside a woman, a knife in his hand. Mr. Patel and Kabir's brother, Karthik, stood nearby, watching everything with pleasure.
"I told you not to file a complaint against me, but you...you're just too stubborn, aren't you, dear wifey?" Kabir sneered, gripping that woman's hair cruelly.
My heart stopped. Wife? She was his wife? Why was he pressing a knife to her throat? What was happening? Why would Kabir want to kill that woman?
My hands trembled, my heart pounded like a drum in my ears.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Kabir, the gentle doctor with kind eyes, the man I was going to marry in three days, was kneeling before a woman, maybe his wife, threatening her with a knife.
She was crying as blood oozed from a wound on her arm.
"Please..." she sobbed harder and begged for her life. "I'll take back the complaint, I swear. I'll let you marry that girl. Just please...leave me..."
"It's too late, dear wifey," he said coldly, tightening his grip on the knife and lifting it toward her.
My mind screamed, Do something. Before I could stop myself, I slammed the door open.
"KABIR!" I shouted.
All three of them turned in unison.
Kabir's eyes widened as his face paled. The knife froze in his hand. Mr. Patel stepped forward, his lips curling into a sinister smile like my presence entertained him even more. Karthik just looked as cruel as his brother.
"Ira," Kabir said flatly, rising to his feet, knife still in his hand. "You shouldn't be here. What are you doing here?"
I stared at him, horrified. "She's your wife. What the hell is going on? Why do you have a knife?"
"She's a liar," Karthik snapped, pointing his finger at that woman. "She wants to destroy our family. She tried to ruin everything by filing that cheap complaint..."
"She filed it because your brother harassed her!" I spat, rushing toward the woman, who was now curled in the corner, shaking like a leaf. I stood protectively in front of her, glaring at Kabir who slowly changed his color. "And you were all involved in this?"
"Ira, move," Kabir said, his voice low, almost dangerous. "She's dangerous." His eyes narrowed as he gripped the knife even tighter.
"No. You're dangerous," I growled, pointing at him. "I trusted you. My family trusted you. How long were you going to keep this a secret? What were you planning to do with her?"
He stepped closer as the knife gleamed under the ceiling light. Suddenly his look changed into that of a beast.
"I didn't want you to find out like this," he said softly, sneering. "I never wanted you to find out about my wife. I want you in my life, Ira. I swear I'll try to become a good husband to you. I promise I'll never hurt you." He moved to catch me, but I stepped away from him.
"Stay the fuck away from me!" I hissed without breaking eye contact with him.
Mr. Patel laughed darkly. "What a pity. So beautiful. So brave. But now you've seen too much." They slowly moved towards me.
As they advanced, something in me snapped. Instinct kicked in. I reached behind me, grabbed a decorative brass vase from the table, and hurled it at Karthik. It hit him square on the shoulder. He stumbled, cursing.
I didn't wait as I lunged forward, spun around, and kicked Kabir in the ribs. He gasped, dropping the knife. I shoved him aside and turned to the woman.
"Run! GO!" I yelled at her.
She hesitated just a moment and then bolted through the door.
Now it was just me.
Karthik grabbed my wrist, but I twisted and elbowed him in the stomach. Mr. Patel lunged toward me, but I dropped and rolled under a table, landing beside a heavy iron candle stand. I grabbed it and swung hard.
Crack. Kabir's lip split open. They stared at me with blood, anger, and disbelief.
"You're a liar," I gasped. "You tricked my family..."
Suddenly, Kabir lunged and grabbed me. We fell to the floor. I screamed, kicked, clawed, but pain sliced through my back like a hot blade.
I gasped, pulling away.
The knife had cut deep, burning fire through my skin. Kabir stood over me, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Next time," he whispered, his voice cold and sharp as ice, "if you try to run...if you expose me... I'll kill you." His eyes burned with something sinister and dangerous.
Mr. Patel bent down, gently stroked my cheek like I was a child. His touch made me recoil.
"Be a good girl, Ira. No one needs to know this. We'll fix you up. Say you slipped and cut yourself. And in three days... you'll be a perfect bride."
He stood and walked out just like that, leaving me bleeding on the cold marble floor. My heart was pounding. The truth burning in my chest.
I bit my lip, tears streaming down my cheeks. But beneath the pain, something else awakened.
Fire.
I was not going to stay silent.
And I was going to take them all down.
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