𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐧𝐞
"So, you will marry me because you have no other option?"
I exhaled, my shoulders sagging. "Yes. But after marriage, if you don't want me in your room, I can move out or sleep on the couch. I won't touch-"
He cut me off, his voice quiet but firm. "Roop, I know you don't like me, and you don't want this marriage. It's okay. I'll talk to your family. I won't force you into this."
I felt panic rise in my chest.
"No! Please... Don't talk to them. You are my only option."
Anirudh stared at me, his sharp gaze studying my face as if searching for something-hesitation, doubt, regret.
I didn't look away.
I had nothing to hide. Nothing to lose.
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Roop, shaadi kisi majboori mein nahi ki jati."
(Marriage isn't something that should happen out of compulsion.)
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "Yahi toh farq hai tumhari aur meri zindagi mein, Anirudh. Tumhare paas choice hai, mere paas nahi."
(That's the difference between your life and mine, Anirudh. You have a choice. I don't.)
His expression darkened.
"Main tumhari family se baat karunga-"
"Nahi!" I cut him off, my voice sharp with desperation. "You won't understand. You've never seen helplessness, Anirudh. You don't know that when a girl has no options, she only looks for survival."
A strange silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken pain.
Anirudh sighed and leaned back against the bench, his fingers tapping against his knee. "You're telling me you'd marry any stranger just because you have no other way out?"
I stiffened. "You're not a stranger."
His lips quirked up, almost amused. "Until a day ago, I was."
I clenched my fists. "I don't care who you are. I just need to accept this match, or the other option will destroy me."
Anirudh fell silent, his gaze steady on me. The playfulness in his eyes faded, replaced by something more intense, more thoughtful.
Finally, he asked, "And what if I tell you that I don't want to marry you either?"
