Chapter 23
Viya
I had been meaning to visit Uncle for a while now.
It had been weeks since I had seen him, and despite everything, despite the complicated feelings I had about that household, he was still the man who had raised me.
The man who had made sure I got an education.
The man who had given me a chance at life when I had nowhere else to go.
So today, I finally made the trip.
The house looked exactly the same as it always had. Same gate, same front door, same plants lining the walkway. But it felt different now. Like I was visiting a place from my past rather than somewhere that had once been home.
I rang the doorbell and waited.
Uncle opened the door, and his face lit up when he saw me. He pulled me into a warm hug.
"Viya, beta! Come in, come in. It is so good to see you. You look well."
I smiled and let him lead me inside. But as we entered the living room, I saw Aunty Sangeetha sitting on the sofa. Her expression was tight, her lips pressed into a thin line. She did not stand to greet me. Did not smile.
"Hello, Aunty," I said politely, touching her feet in respect.
She gave a curt nod but said nothing.
The tension in the room was palpable, but Uncle seemed determined to ignore it. He gestured for me to sit and immediately launched into questions about how I was doing, how Dadi was recovering, how work was going.
I answered his questions, keeping my responses light and pleasant. We chatted about inconsequential things. The weather. The traffic. A new restaurant that had opened nearby.
Aunty sat in stony silence the entire time, her eyes fixed on me with an expression I could not quite read. Resentment, maybe. Or anger. Or something else entirely.
I was about to ask Uncle about his health when I heard footsteps.
Avija burst into the living room like a storm. Her face was flushed, her eyes wild, her hair disheveled as though she had been running her hands through it repeatedly.
Before I could even register what was happening, she grabbed my forearm in a painful grip and yanked me to my feet.
"Are you happy now?" she hissed, her face inches from mine. "Are you satisfied after ruining my entire life?"
I stared at her in complete confusion, my heart suddenly racing.
"What? Avija, what are you talking about?"
"Avija, stop this!" Uncle stood up quickly, moving toward us. "Let go of her right now."
But Avija ignored him. Her fingers dug into my arm hard enough to bruise.
"Playing innocent? Really? You think I do not know what you did? You stole him from me! You took everything that was supposed to be mine!"
"I do not understand," I said, my voice shaking. "Avija, I do not know what you are talking about. Please let go of me."
"Let go of her, Avija," Uncle said again, his voice firm. He tried to pull her away from me, but she shook him off.
"No! She needs to hear this. She needs to know what she has done."
Tears were streaming down Avija's face now, her breath coming in harsh gasps.
"Armaan was mine. He was supposed to be mine. We were in love. We were planning to get married. Do you understand that? We were going to spend our lives together."
The words hit me like physical blows. I felt my knees go weak.
"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
"We were together for two years. Two years! He loved me. He told me he loved me. We picked out a venue for our wedding. We talked about our future. About the children we would have. About growing old together."
"Avija, that is enough," Aunty Sangeetha said sharply, finally standing up. But there was no real force behind her words. It was as though she was saying them out of obligation rather than any real desire to stop what was happening.
"No, it is not enough!" Avija's voice was rising to a scream now. "She needs to know the truth! She needs to know that none of this was real!"
I could not move. Could not speak. Could not breathe. My entire world was tilting sideways.
"The prophecy," Avija continued, her words tumbling out in a rush.
"His kundali said his first wife would die within a year of marriage.
So my mother, she came up with a plan. A plan to protect me.
Armaan would marry someone else first. Some disposable girl who did not matter.
They would stay married for a year, satisfy the prophecy, then divorce.
And then Armaan and I could get married safely. "
No. No, this could not be real. This could not be true.
"That disposable girl was you, Viya. You were the sacrifice. The shield. The nobody who was supposed to take the bullet meant for me."
I shook my head, trying to reject what she was saying. Trying to make sense of words that did not make sense.
"Uncle," I turned to him, my voice breaking. "Uncle, tell her she is wrong. Tell her this is not true. You said you were sick. You said you did not have much time left. You said you wanted to see me settled before you died."
Uncle's face crumpled with guilt. He could not meet my eyes.
"Beta, I—"
"He lied," Avija said flatly. "He lied about being sick. He lied about wanting you to be happy. He lied about everything to convince you to agree to this marriage."
The room was spinning. I reached out blindly and found the back of the sofa, gripping it hard to keep from falling.
"The marriage was always supposed to be temporary," Avija continued, relentless.
"That is why it was kept secret. That is why no one announced it.
That is why you were not allowed to wear sindoor or mangalsutra at work.
Because you were not supposed to be his real wife.
You were just a placeholder. A warm body to fulfill a superstition. "
"Stop," I whispered. "Please stop."
"Armaan never wanted you. He wanted me. He chose me. You were just convenient. Just there. Just willing to believe whatever lies they told you because you were so desperate for a family."
Each word was a knife, cutting deeper and deeper.
"And now you have ruined everything. He says he loves you. He says he is not going to divorce you. He has ended things with me. Because of you. Because you manipulated him, made him feel sorry for you, trapped him with your helpless orphan act."
"That is not true," I managed to say. "I did not know. I did not know any of this. I thought—"
"You thought what? That a man like Armaan Khanna would fall in love with someone like you? You, with nothing to your name? No family, no status, no wealth? You thought that was real?"
The cruelty in her voice, the venom, it was unbearable.
I looked at Uncle again, desperate for him to deny it. To tell me this was all a misunderstanding. Some terrible joke.
But he just stood there with tears in his eyes, saying nothing.
Which was the same as saying everything.
It was true. All of it was true.
My marriage was a lie. My husband's love was a lie. Everything I had believed about my life for the past two months was a lie.
I pulled my arm free from Avija's grip and stumbled backward.
"Viya, wait," Uncle said, finally finding his voice. "Let me explain. It is not what you think. Things have changed. This is not—"
But I could not listen anymore. Could not stand to be in this room for another second.
I turned and ran. Out of the living room, through the front door, into the street.
I heard Uncle calling my name behind me, but I did not stop. Could not stop.
My mind was a chaotic mess. Fragmented thoughts crashed into each other, making no sense.
Armaan did not love me. He was supposed to marry Avija. I was just temporary. A sacrifice. A shield. Nothing.
The afternoon sun was blinding. The street was busy with traffic. People walked past me on the sidewalk, going about their normal lives, completely unaware that mine had just shattered into a million pieces.
I walked without direction. Without purpose. Just moving because standing still meant thinking, and thinking hurt too much.
Uncle lied. About his health. About wanting me to be happy. He used my love for him, my gratitude, my desperate need to belong somewhere, to manipulate me into this marriage.
And Armaan. My husband. The man I loved with every fiber of my being. The man I had given myself to completely. The man who said he loved me.
Had any of it been real? Or was it all just guilt? Pity for the girl who did not know she was being used?
I could not breathe. The air felt too thick, pressing down on my lungs.
I was on a main road now. Cars rushed past, their horns blaring. The noise was overwhelming, adding to the chaos in my head.
I needed to get home. Needed to confront Armaan. Needed answers. Needed to understand how my entire life had become a lie.
I stepped off the curb, intending to cross the street to where the auto stand was.
I did not see the vehicle coming.
Did not register the sound of brakes squealing.
Did not have time to move.
There was an impact. Hard and sudden and violent. My body flew through the air for what felt like forever but was probably only seconds.
Then I hit the ground.
Pain exploded through me, sharp and all consuming. I could taste blood in my mouth. Could feel it spreading warm and sticky beneath me.
People were shouting. Running toward me. Their voices sounded far away, muffled, as though I was underwater.
I tried to move but could not. Could not feel my legs. Could not feel much of anything except the fading pain and a strange, creeping coldness.
The sky above me was so blue. Perfectly, impossibly blue. White clouds drifted lazily across my field of vision.
My mother used to tell me that every star in the sky was a soul watching over the people they loved.
Was she watching now? Could she see what had become of me?
Faces appeared above me. Strangers, looking down with concern and horror. Someone was pressing something against my head. Someone else was on a phone, calling for an ambulance.
I wanted to tell them not to bother. Wanted to tell them it did not matter anymore.
But I could not make my mouth work. Could not form words.
The blue sky was starting to fade. The edges of my vision were going dark.
Maybe it was better this way. Maybe this was the universe's way of fixing a mistake. Of erasing a girl who should never have been there in the first place.
I thought of Armaan's face. The way he smiled at me. The way he held me at night. The way he said he loved me.
Had any of it been real? Would I ever know?
The darkness was spreading now, creeping in from all sides. The pain was fading too, replaced by a strange numbness.
Someone was shouting my name. The voice sounded familiar. Uncle, maybe. Or was I imagining it?
It did not matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore.
I let my eyes close.
And the world disappeared.