Page 11 of Protect my Heart
I look around, eyes darting across the furniture that looks the same, but the air in this room is heavy. As if the walls themselves are carrying the weight of what’s happened. Or maybe it’s just me.
There are muffled voices coming from the living room. Hushed conversations, like they’re trying not to wake a sleepingchild—or maybe trying to avoid waking the chaos. I can’t make out what they’re saying. Maybe that’s for the best.
I push myself up, suddenly restless. I don’t want to sit here like a ghost in a room full of memories. But as I walk toward the door, it swings open—and there he is.
Aarav.
He freezes when he sees me, like he wasn’t expecting me here. His eyes widen just for a second before they harden, his surprise quickly replaced by irritation.
“What are you doing here?” He snaps, voice low but sharp, like a paper cut.
I flinch at the coldness in his tone. It stings more than I want it to.
"I am your so-called wife; where else would I be?" I huff.
“Why did you even marry me?” I whisper, stepping back. My throat tightens.
“You upset your entire family… for what? Just to rescue some damsel in distress?” My voice cracks near the end. I try to sound angry and strong, but all I hear is pain. I don’t want anyone outside to hear, but I also want him to know—what he did wasn’t right. “You didn’t have to marry me out of pity, Aarav.”
A sob slips out before I can stop it. I hate how weak I sound. His expression falters. For a moment, something softer flickers in his eyes—guilt? Regret? I don’t know. But it disappears as quickly as it comes, replaced by something darker.
“For the last time, you don’t question my actions,” he snaps, stepping forward. His voice rises with sudden anger, loudand booming in the small room. It makes my chest tighten. He grabs my arms. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to make me flinch.
“I don’t owe you any explanation,” he growls. “This is only for six months. Stay out of my way, and we won’t have any problems.”
His jaw is clenched tight, and his breathing is shallow and ragged. The veins in his neck stand out. His eyes are almost black with rage—and something else. Something deeper. It scares me, not because I think he’ll hurt me, but because I’ve never seen him like this. Not with me. I stare at him, wide-eyed. I can’t tell if my heart is racing from fear or sadness.
Then, just as suddenly, he lets go of me. Takes a step back. He looks away, like he regrets touching me at all. His eyes meet mine one last time, and something unreadable crosses his face. Something I don’t know how to name. Before I can even say anything, he turns and leaves. Without another word.
I stand there for a moment, frozen. My arms still ache from where he held me, and my heart feels like it’s slowly splintering apart. I breathe in, then out, and try to keep myself from falling apart. A hollow silence surrounds me. It pricks my nerves. I stare at the door a little too long.
Heaviness settles in my heart as I move toward the closet, needing something to do—anything to distract me. My suitcase is already here, placed neatly beside the cupboard like someone went out of their way to be polite about this disaster. Great. Even my luggage has better manners than my life right now.
I pull out a simple cotton salwar kameez, the kind I’ve worn a million times before. The weight of the lehenga feels unbearable now. It clings to my skin like shame, like all thewrong decisions I’ve made today. I undo my hair, letting the clips and pins fall into my lap. My makeup’s barely there—I couldn’t bring myself to dress up for a wedding I didn’t even want. One that was forced on me. Or orchestrated by Vikram. Same thing.
Now I’m in a contractual marriage with a man who can’t stand to look at me.
I let out a hollow laugh as tears sting my vision. “Wow,” I mumble to myself.
“I’ve lived two entire book genres in one day. Romance and tragedy.” I’m not sure which one I’m stuck in now. Mostly tragedy because if this is romance, I don't want it. I don't know how much time passes by as I change into the soft cotton clothes that feel like shedding a second skin. Familiar. Safe. It smells like home. Like old cupboards and worn-out drawers and the comfort I miss of my own home.
I wonder what Maa is doing and how she is. I want to lie down in her lap and let her stroke my hair till I fall asleep because that's the only thing I think can calm me down. I step out of the closet, hoping maybe Aarav came back. Not because I want to talk, but because… I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t want to feel so alone. But the room is empty and cold.
Of course, it is.
I sit back on the bed, pulling my knees up to my chest. The house is eerily quiet now. Everyone must’ve gone to sleep. Or maybe they’re just pretending I don’t exist. Aunty’s face flashes in my mind. She was so upset. And I hate that I’m the reason for that. I used to adore her.
Back when I’d come here after school with Aarav, she would make me sit with her in the kitchen and spill all theneighborhood gossip. Aarav hated it—he’d sit across from us, rolling his eyes, pretending not to listen—but I knew he secretly enjoyed it. A small smile tucks up on my lips as I remember our old time. We used to be happy and together.
And now… she won’t even look at me.
Dadu used to spoil me endlessly. He never let me miss my own grandparents. Rudra Bhaiya always scared me, though—I mean, he never did anything; it was just his aura. Intimidating even when we were kids. I didn't see him in the living room today. But I did catch a glimpse of his wife—she’s beautiful. Kind eyes. And the way Aarav looked at her... it’s clear she holds a special place in his heart. That’s rare. Aarav’s heart is not easy to reach.
I didn’t see Aditi either. God, I miss her. We used to gang up on Aarav all the time. He’d get so annoyed. I can still hear him muttering under his breath, calling us little devils.
This place used to be my happy place. And now it just feels wrong. It feels like I have destroyed the peace they had built up.
Aarav loves this family more than anything. And now they’re disappointed in him—because of me. I never wanted that. Never wanted to be the reason he had to choose between them and… whatever this is. I hug my knees tighter and let the tears fall freely. I don’t care anymore; I let them fall.
