22 ~ Who is Samaira?
My fingers curled tightly against my palms as I tried to control the storm inside me.
I had already been humiliated enough these days. I had been forced into a marriage I never wanted, dressed in another woman's bridal clothes, made to sit beside a man who had been my sister's fiance, and now this man was standing before me as though none of it was enough.
"What else do you want?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my attempt to keep it firm.
He looked at me for a long moment before speaking calmly.
"Mujhe pata hai tum mujhse naraz ho lekin ab koi faida nahi hai. Tumhare kartik se shadi ho chuki hai."
(I know you're angry with me, but there is no point anymore. You are already married to Kartik.)
I let out a bitter breath.
"Shadi ho zaroor chuki hai lekin main use nibhaungi nahi. Jitne jaldi ho sake main use divorce de dungi."
(The marriage may have happened, but I won't continue it. I'll divorce him as soon as possible.)
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Shayad tum bhool rahi ho ki tumhare behen ki pregnancy reports abhi bhi mere paas hai."
(Maybe you've forgotten that I still have your sister's pregnancy reports.)
My throat went dry.
I swallowed hard, my teeth clenching as the reality of his threat settled over me again. He knew exactly where to strike.
He knew that Mukti's secret could destroy everything my family had spent years protecting.
"Ab kya chahte hain aap?" I asked, my voice lower now. "Itna sab karke, mujhe dara kar, meri Kartik se zabardasti shadi kara ke aapka mann nahi bhara..."
(What do you want now? After doing all this, frightening me and forcing me to marry Kartik, are you still not satisfied...)
"Nahi. Kyunki abhi tak mera maqsad pura nahi hua hai. I thought your sister was decent," he said, his voice laced with contempt. "But I was wrong. She turned out to be a characterless girl who got herself pregnant before marriage. I loathe women like that...women who have no modesty, no values."
(No. Because my objective hasn't been fulfilled yet.)
The humiliation I felt for Mukti burned through me so fiercely that I slammed my palm against the desk.
"Stop it!"
The sharp sound echoed through the room.
Dhanraj merely shrugged.
"This is a fact."
"Aapko meri behen ke baare mein is tarah baat karne ka koi haq nahi hai."
(You have no right to speak about my sister like that.)
His expression didn't change.
"Your sister was pregnant before marriage. What do you think society calls women like that? She wasn't the decent, traditional girl I believed her to be. And I never wanted such a girl to marry my son and ruin my reputation, my family's name, my bloodline."
My fingers curled into fists.
He leaned forward slightly.
"Main chahta tha ki mere ghar ki bahu ek decent ladki ho... jo mere vansh ko aage badhaye aur is ghar ko ek waaris de."
(I wanted the daughter-in-law of my house to be a decent girl... one who would carry my lineage forward and give this house an heir.)
His words echoed inside my head, making something inside me twist painfully.
"That's why I chose you."
I stared at him in disbelief.
His words made me feel less like a woman and more like an object he had deliberately selected to protect his legacy.
I stared at him. "Waaris?"
(Heir?)
He nodded, "Tumhe Kartik se alag hona hai...mujhe isse koi problem nahi hai lekin...usse pehle mujhe ek waaris chaiye."
(You want to separate from Kartik... I have no problem with that, but before you do, I want an heir.)
My entire body went cold.
"Aap ye kya keh rahe hain..."
(What are you saying...)
Had he lost his senses?
The realization made something inside me crack.
How could someone be this selfish?
"Main aisa kuch nahi karne wali. Aur kartik ko bhi main pasand nahi hoon."
(I'm not going to do anything like that. And Kartik doesn't even like me.)
He smiled faintly.
"Kartik tumhe pasand karta hai. Agar tumse pyaar nahi karta to ye shadi hi nahi karta."
(Kartik likes you. If he didn't love you, he wouldn't have married you.)
I froze.
For several seconds, I couldn't say anything.
My heart gave an uncomfortable little twist.
Because somewhere deep down, despite everything, I knew there was something in the way Kartik looked at me.
I had noticed it.
The way his eyes followed me before he looked away.
The way his expression changed whenever Rivan came near me.
The way he had held my hand during the wedding and told my mother that he would take care of me.
I remained silent.
A tear slipped from the corner of my eye before I could stop it.
So he threatened me with Mukti's name, her pregnancy reports and her affair to get me married to Kartik because his son loves me.
I quickly wiped my tears away.
"Aur ek baat...kartik ko is baat ka pata nahi chalna chahiye ki hamari aesi koi baat hui hai."
(And one more thing... Kartik must never find out that we had this conversation.)
My teeth clenched.
I shook my head slowly, anger and helplessness burning together inside me.
He stood up, his voice remaining disturbingly calm.
"To agar tumhe kartik se alag hona hai to is ghar ko ek waris do uske baad tum azaad ho. Main Mukti ko bhi expose nahi karunga."
(So if you want to separate from Kartik, give this family an heir. After that, you will be free. I won't expose Mukti.)
I stared at him in disbelief.
"Aap...aisa kaise kar sakte hain mere saath..."
(How... how can you do this to me...)
My voice broke.
I lowered my gaze, pressing my lips together to stop them from trembling.
I married Kartik because I thought I'll divorce him as soon as I can and everything will be back to normal.
Mukti would be happy wherever she's, my family's honour will be protected and I'll get my life back the way it was.
But I was wrong.
I had thought getting married was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I had been wrong because now I understood that this marriage had never been about a bride.
It had never been about me.
It had never even been about Kartik.
It had always been about an heir.
And somehow, I was the one being asked to pay the price.
I barely made it back to my room before the tears I had been holding inside finally broke free.
The moment I pushed the door shut behind me and went to bed, my breath hitched painfully, and I pressed my palm over my mouth to keep the sobs from escaping too loudly.
His father's words kept replaying inside my head.
An heir.
A child.
That was what this marriage was really about.
I thought he was strict. Arrogant, perhaps. A man obsessed with the reputation of his family and the Singhaniya name. But I had never imagined that beneath all that authority was something far uglier.
He was so deeply patriarchal that he couldn't even see me as a person.
I was a woman who had been brought into this house, and apparently, in his eyes, my worth could be measured by one thing, whether I could give his family the next Singhaniya heir.
The realization made my stomach turn.
And what hurt even more was the way he had deliberately kept it hidden from Kartik.
Why?
Because he knew his son might object?
Because he knew Kartik might actually see how disgusting this arrangement was?
"No..." I whispered to myself, shaking my head as tears continued to fall.
I wasn't an heir-producing machine. I was Chahat.
I had dreams. I had choices. I had a life before this family decided that my future could be rewritten in a single night.
A soft knock suddenly sounded on the door.
I froze.
I wiped my cheeks, trying to gather myself, but my hands were trembling too badly.
I didn't answer.
The knock came again, gentler this time before I could say anything, the door slowly opened.
Dadi stood there.
The moment her eyes fell upon me, the concern on her face was immediate.
She walked inside, and came straight toward me.
She sat beside me and gently took both my hands into hers.
"Kya hua Chahat...ghar ki yaad aa rahi hai?"
(What happened, Chahat... are you missing home?)
The warmth in her voice shattered the last piece of control I had left.
I couldn't stop myself.
I immediately leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her, burying my face against her shoulder as another wave of tears escaped me.
Dadi patiently stroked my back until my sobs gradually became quieter. Then she gently guided me down, making me rest my head in her lap. Her fingers moved through my hair in slow, soothing strokes, and I closed my eyes.
"Kya hua beta?" Dadi asked softly after a while. Her fingers continued moving through my hair. "Mujhe batao...kisne kuch kaha hai?"
(What happened, child? Tell me... did someone said anything?)
My lips trembled.
I opened my eyes and looked at her.
How could I tell her?
How could I look into those innocent, loving eyes and tell her that her own son asked me to seduce her grandson so she could have a great-grandson.
I simply turned my face slightly and closed my eyes again.
She continued stroking my hair.
And for the first time, I wasn't afraid of Dhanraj Singhaniya. I was disgusted by him.
I heard footsteps and saw that Kartik stepped into the room, Dadi's sharp gaze immediately landed on him, and judging by the expression on her face, I knew he was about to get an earful.
I sat quietly on the edge of the bed, still feeling completely drained after everything that had happened.
Dadi, however, stood beside me like a guard protecting her newest favourite person in the house, her concern for me evident in every line of her face.
"Tu kaisa pati hai, Kartik? Apni itni pyaari si biwi ka dhyaan bhi nahi rakh raha. Dekh uska kya haal ho gaya hai!"
(What kind of husband are you, Kartik? You aren't even taking care of your lovely wife. Look at the state she's in!)
Dadi scolded him, and despite everything, a strange feeling stirred inside me at the words pyaari si biwi.
(Lovely wife.)
I lowered my eyes immediately.