𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐀

Ch21 Accepted by All, Denied by One #2

Her lips parted, but I didn’t stop.

“In fact, you are the danger,” I continued. “Your hands move faster than your thoughts. Like helicopter blades reckless, blind.

How could you slap me without thinking?”

Her expression crumpled instantly. Eyes glossy. Face soft, almost childlike.

“How was I supposed to know it was you?” she said, voice trembling. “When you grabbed my waist, I thought someone else had entered. I was scared. I reacted.”

Then, defensively, she added,

“This is your fault. Who told you to enter through the window?”

That was it.

I stepped forward in one sharp movement and caught her waist again, pulling her against me. This time, deliberately. Possessively.

Her breath hitched.

“Listen carefully,” I said, voice low and commanding.

“First no one else has the courage or the right to enter my house and touch my wife. Even if that title exists only on paper.”

Her heartbeat thudded violently beneath my palm.

“Remember this,” I continued. “If anyone ever touches you anywhere, in any way it will be me.”

Her breathing turned uneven, shallow, betraying her composure.

“And second,” I added, tightening my hold slightly, “you’re the one who threw me out. I had to come back somehow. This is my house. My room. And you ” my voice dropped further, “my wife.”

“How I enter is my choice.”

She didn’t look up.

Her gaze remained lowered, lashes trembling against flushed cheeks. Her breaths brushed against my skin, warm and unsteady. I wanted to scare her. To teach her a lesson. To make her feel the consequences of challenging me.

So I leaned closer.

Closer.

Until the space between us vanished and our breaths tangled, mingling like unsaid words and restrained emotions.

Rivanya’s eyes those eyes that never bow before anyone failed her now.

She never lowers her gaze. Not in fear. Not in defeat. Yet every time I come this close, her eyes drop on their own, as if her strength dissolves in my presence.

And I don’t understand why but seeing her like this calms something wild inside me.

It feels like the moment before rain, when peacocks slowly spread their feathers, sensing the storm before it arrives.

Just like that whenever I’m near her, Rivanya’s eyes lower.

And the storm inside me pauses… just for a breath.

Before I could say anything further, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Almost instantly, a worried voice followed from the other side of the door one of the housemaids.

“Ma’am… are you alright? Did something happen? You screamed very loudly.”

It was as if Rivanya had been waiting for an excuse to escape the moment. She pushed me back abruptly and rushed to the door, opening it in haste.

“Yes...yes, everything is fine,” she said quickly. “There’s no problem.”

But concern doesn’t disappear that easily.

“Then why did you scream, Ma’am?” the maid asked gently.

Her eyes drifted past Rivanya and landed on me.

And right then, what shouldn’t have happened, happened.

She immediately lowered her gaze, her face flushing with embarrassment. Without another word, she murmured an apology and hurried away, clearly misunderstanding the situation in the most obvious way possible.

Rivanya closed the door and turned back to me, her brows knitted in confusion.

“Why did she leave like that?” she asked innocently. “Why did she look so embarrassed?”

I stared at her for a long moment, disbelief mixing with irritation.

“Rivanya,” I said slowly, “are you genuinely this innocent… or do you pretend to be?”

She frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Frustration crept into my voice.

“What are you and I to each other?”

She answered without hesitation, without doubt.

“Husband and wife.”

I let out a short, humorless breath.

“Then tell me if a husband and wife are alone in a room, in the middle of the night, and the wife screams loudly… what do you think that looks like to someone outside?”

She stood there, blank, trying to process it.

And then it hit her.

Color rushed to her cheeks, spreading deep and red like ripe tomatoes as realization dawned on her. Her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh God… chi!” she exclaimed.

“What just happened? Rudra, should I go and explain to her? That it’s not what she’s thinking?”

I rubbed my temples, already exhausted.

“Rivanya, you’ve already eaten enough of my brain for one night. Please spare me now,” I snapped.

“You can’t possibly be this foolish. What exactly will you say to her? And anyway what difference does it make? We’re not truly husband and wife.”

That did it.

She turned sharply toward me, hurt and anger flashing across her face.

“Why do you keep saying that?” she demanded.

“Why do you keep repeating that we’re not really husband and wife?”

Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop.

“You may not accept it, but we took our vows in front of the sacred fire. I wear sindoor in your name. This mangalsutra is my identity. The whole world knows me as Rivanya Rudraksh Vardhan. Your family accepts me as their daughter-in-law. Your brother calls me bhabhi.

So how-how can you say this marriage isn’t real?”

I answered calmly, too calmly.

“Everyone accepts it,” I said quietly. “But I don’t. And if I don’t, then how can you be my wife?”

The moment those words left my mouth, I knew I had crossed a line.

Her eyes filled instantly. Tears welled up, shimmering under the light and the sight of them felt like someone had driven a knife straight into my chest.

But I didn’t let it show.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t soften.

She spoke through her tears, her voice breaking.

“May God never give anyone a fate like mine,” she whispered.

“Being a wife, yet unable to call myself my husband’s wife. Being married, yet having no relationship at all.”

She looked at me then really looked at me.

“People are right, Rudra,” she said bitterly.

“Your heart truly is made of stone. A heart that melts for no one.”

And with that, she turned away, her shoulders shaking as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

The sound of that door closing echoed far louder than her scream had earlier.

I stood there, frozen.

Why does it matter?

Why do her tears affect me like this?

Why does anger burn inside me when I see her cry?

Why do the walls I built so carefully walls that never cracked for anyone feel weak now?

I am Rudraksh Vardhan.

I have never softened. Never faltered.

And yet…

No. I cannot get attached to Rivanya.

That would be a mistake.

Everyone I have ever allowed into my life has been taken away by fate. I refuse to let that happen to her. If hurting her today keeps her safe from a far greater pain tomorrow then this cruelty is necessary.

This distance…

This coldness…

It is the only way I know how to protect her.

Time Skip

Before either of us realized it, night quietly surrendered to morning. Sunlight filtered through the vast mansion, yet Rivanya still hadn’t stepped out of her room.

I completed my daily prayers in silence, my mind far from calm despite the rhythmic chants. Once done, I returned to the temporary room I had been staying in ever since the marriage and got ready. Today was not going to be easy neither for me, nor for Rivanya.

All I hoped for was that she would handle Gurumaa’s unpredictable and intrusive questions with grace. Not because she needed to prove herself to anyone, but because I could not tolerate even the slightest chance of someone looking down on her.

She might be my wife only in name, but she would receive every ounce of respect that position deserved. I may not be able to give her love, but I would never deny her dignity. She had already endured far more than she should have. From now on, she deserved nothing but goodness.

With those thoughts weighing heavily on my chest, I stepped out of the room.

The first thing I noticed was that Rivanya’s door was open.

That could only mean one thing she was downstairs.

I descended the staircase, my eyes scanning the entire house, but she was nowhere to be found. Then something struck me. I stepped outside and just as I had expected, she was standing there, looking around intently, as if searching for something she couldn’t quite find.

I walked up to her.

“What are you looking for?” I asked gently. “Do you need something?”

At first, she didn’t respond. Then, after a brief pause, she spoke her gaze still lowered.

“Since the day I came here,” she said softly, “I haven’t seen a Tulsi plant in this house. Doesn’t this home have a Tulsi courtyard?”

I shook my head.

“No, there isn’t one,” I replied. “I’ve honestly never thought about it.”

She looked genuinely surprised.

“A house without Tulsi ji?” she said. “How is that even possible? I’ll plant one today itself.”

“There’s no need for you to do that,” I said. “You can ask a maid or servant. They’ll take care of it.”

She turned toward me then, her eyes steady, her voice firm yet calm.

“Look, I know you don’t consider me your wife,” she said honestly.

“But I am the daughter-in-law of this house. This isn’t a servant’s home it’s mine. And Tulsi ji will enter this house through my hands. End of discussion.”

Before I could respond, a voice came from behind us.

“And what better thing could there be,” Pratap Vardhan said warmly,

“than the Lakshmi of the house bringing Tulsi ji into it herself?”

I noticed him but I didn’t acknowledge him.

Rivanya, however, smiled instantly. She pulled the pallu of her saree over her head, walked up to him, touched his feet respectfully, and asked with genuine concern,

“Papa, did you sleep well?”

He placed his hand lovingly on her head.

“Yes, beta. I slept very peacefully. And now I’ll be leaving.”

She looked startled.

“Leaving? But you just arrived yesterday. Where are you going today?”

He smiled gently.

“There are many responsibilities waiting for me in Vardhanpur. I must attend to them.”

Then, reassuringly, he added,

“And don’t be nervous in front of Guruji and Gurumaa. Answer calmly. I know you’ll win their hearts.”