25 ~ Freedom and Heir #2
I hadn't even picked up my spoon when Seema Chachi's voice reached me.
"Bahu ho tum is ghar ki... tumhe subah uthkar nashta banana chahiye."
(You are the daughter-in-law of this house... you should wake up in the morning and make breakfast.)
Of course.
"Mere paas bahut kaam hai, Chachi." I calmly picked up my glass. "Mujhe college bhi jaana hai. Aur ghar mein staff hai na nashta banane ke liye."
(I have a lot of work, Chachi. I also have to go to college. And there is staff in the house to make breakfast, right?)
I slowly looked up.
Her expression immediately tightened.
I didn't care.
I had spent enough time being told what a good bahu was supposed to do.
I wasn't interested in playing that role.
Across the table, Dhanraj uncle looked at me.
His gaze briefly travelled over my jeans and shirt before settling on my face.
The disapproval was obvious.
I simply took a sip of water.
"Good morning Father-in-law."
"Morning." He replied and concentrated on his breakfast.
Dadi, sensing the tension, intervened before Seema Chachi could say anything else.
"Chahat, tum nashta kar lo. Phir Kartik tumhe college drop kar dega."
(Chahat, have your breakfast. Then Kartik will drop you at college.)
I immediately shook my head.
"Main driver ke saath chali jaungi."
(I'll go with the driver.)
My eyes instinctively moved toward Kartik.
He was already looking at me. There was something unreadable in his expression.
I looked away first.
I was still angry with him.
And after last night's conversation, the last thing I wanted was to sit beside him in a car and pretend everything was normal.
"Shaadi tumhari mujhse hui hai ya driver se?"
(Did you marry me or the driver?)
I clenched my teeth.
I didn't bother replying. I simply turned around and walked upstairs.
I fastened my watch around my wrist, grabbed my bag.
The moment I turned around, I found Kartik standing near the door.
I walked past him without saying anything and headed downstairs.
A few minutes later, I settled into the car and immediately turned toward the window.
For some reason, my heartbeat had become strangely restless.
I was going to college with Kartik Singhaniya.
The thought alone made my stomach twist.
What if someone recognized him?
What if someone asked questions?
What if everyone found out that I was married?
I bit my lip before finally turning toward him.
"Kartik..."
"Hm?"
"Mujhe college ke gate tak drop mat karna."
(Don't drop me at the college gate.)
He glanced at me briefly. "Kyun? Bunk kar rahi ho?"
(Why? Are you bunking?)
"Nahi. Bas thoda peeche drop karna."
(No. Just drop me a little farther away.)
His eyebrow lifted.
"Kyun?"
(Why?)
I hesitated.
Then the words came out more bitterly than I'd intended.
"Kyunki main nahi chahti kisi ko bhi pata chale ki I'm married to you."
(Because I don't want anyone to know that I'm married to you.)
Silence.
His expression hardened.
He didn't say anything.
I turned back toward the window, assuming he'd understood.
But a few minutes later, the car slowed down.
My eyes widened. "Kartik!"
He stopped the car directly in front of the entrance.
I turned toward him, furious.
"You did that deliberately."
He looked at me, completely unfazed.
"If someone else had been in your place, I would've killed them for insulting me like this since the day of our marriage."
My lips parted.
I didn't know what to say.
I simply grabbed my bag and opened the door.
The moment I stepped out, I could feel eyes turning toward us. Students were already looking. I lowered my head and took a step forward.
I barely managed another before a strong arm wrapped around my waist.
I was pulled backward. My back collided with Kartik's chest.
I gasped.
"Kartik, kya hai ab?!"
(Kartik, what is it now?!)
He didn't seem bothered by the attention.
His eyes swept across the students before settling on me.
"Rivan se door rehna."
(Stay away from Rivan.)
I stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"Aur koi bhi problem ho to..." His voice lowered. "Mujhe batana."
(And if there's any problem...Tell me.)
I glanced around. People were staring at us. Some were even whispering.
My face heated with embarrassment.
"You're creating a scene."
His jaw tightened. "I don't care." He looked directly into my eyes. "You're my wife."
Those three words silenced me for a moment.
I hated how possessively he said them.
I hated how everyone was watching.
And most of all, I hated the tiny, inexplicable flutter that those words created somewhere inside my chest.
I pushed Kartik away and walked straight toward my class without looking back.
Ina, Ishika and Rivan were already there.
"Finally." Ishika whispered.
I smiled at them and dropped into my seat.
A few minutes later, the lecture began but my mind wasn't in the classroom.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to look at the board.
I wasn't going to think about him.
I wasn't going to think about Samaira.
I wasn't going to think about the way my heart had reacted when he'd pulled me against him.
I was here to study.
That was all.
But concentrating proved easier said than done.
One lecture became two. Two became three and by the time college ended, my head was aching.
When I finally returned home, Dadi asked about my day.
"Achha tha, Dadi."
(It was nice, grandmother.)
I gave her a small smile before escaping upstairs.
And then the days began to pass.
I deliberately avoided Kartik.
If he came into the room, I found a reason to leave.
If he tried talking to me, I answered in the shortest sentences possible.
If he asked me something, I pretended to be busy.
And surprisingly...he noticed.
Several times, I caught him watching me.
Sometimes he tried to stop me. "Chahat, baat karni hai."
(Chahat, I need to talk to you.)
"Abhi nahi."
(Not now.)
"Kahan ja rahi ho?"
(Where are you going?)
"College."
I kept pushing him away.
But the more I tried to create distance, the more difficult it became.
Because somewhere beneath all my anger was a question I couldn't silence.
What exactly was I to him?
A week passed like that.
One night, the room was unusually quiet.
I lay on my side, pretending to be asleep.
Then his voice broke the silence. "Chahat."
I didn't respond.
"Chahat, mujhe pata hai tum bas pretend kar rahi ho."
(Chahat, I know you're just pretending.)
I got up and looked at him.
Before I could go out of the room, his hand caught my arm. He pulled me closer.
I pushed against his chest. "Leave me."
Instead of letting go immediately, he leaned over me, bracing himself above me without hurting me.
His eyes searched mine.
"Ek hafte se tum mujhse bhaag rahi ho."
(You've been running away from me for a week.)
His voice was low.
"Har baar main tumse baat karne ki koshish karta hoon, tum mujhe avoid karti ho. Kya problem hai?"
(Every time I try to talk to you, you avoid me. What's the problem?)
I stared at him.
"Tumhe sachme janna hai?" I asked.
(You really want to know?)
He nodded.
"Samaira."
He slowly released my wrists and sat back slightly. "What about her?"
My heart hammered.
I swallowed.
"Mujhe batao... Samaira kaun hai?"
(Tell me... who is Samaira?)
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he reached out and gently cupped my cheeks.
"Chahat jaisa tum soch rahi ho waise kuch nahi hai..." He was talking when his phone began to ring but he avoided it.
(Chahat, it's not what you think...)
He looked at me and continued, "Wo Singhaniya globals ke liye kaam karti thi... she's a model..."
(She used to work for Singhaniya Globals... she's a model...)
The phone ring again and I saw it was Samaira. He ignored it and looked at me.
"Everything was professional between us until..." His voice lowered and then his phone beeped.
He saw something or read I don't know but his expressions turned serious.
He immediately stood. "Fuck! I need to go."
I stared at him. "Kartik...? Where are you going?"
He didn't answer. He simply walked toward the door.
I watched him leave.
Again.
The room suddenly felt unbearably empty.
I clenched my fists so this was his answer.
He didn't need to say anything. His actions were enough.
I got out of bed, wiping away the tears that had unexpectedly gathered in my eyes.
I needed some fresh air. I stepped outside, I stopped when I saw Dhanraj stood in the hallway.
His expression was unreadable. "Have you decided?"
I lowered my gaze.
"It's your choice. But remember one thing; the longer you take, the longer your freedom will take."
My fingers curled into fists. He didn't need to say anything else.
I understood and for the first time, I stopped fighting the thought that had been haunting me.
If Kartik could live this marriage on his own terms then perhaps I could too.
I would give this family what they wanted.
And then...I would take my freedom back.
To be continued...