Page 12 of Protect my Heart
Everything feels so heavy. Like the walls are pressing in. I feel like I can’t breathe, like I’m trapped in someone else’s life. I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to marry him like this. I just wanted things to stop falling apart. I wanted my mom to be okay. I wanted to survive.
But maybe surviving isn’t enough.
I wipe my face and lie down, curling into a ball. He won’t come back tonight. I know he won’t. And maybe that’s for the best. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to see that look in his eyes again. Like I’m a mistake he can’t undo. I’ve never wanted to hurt him. Even when he hurts me, all I’ve ever wanted was for him to be happy. And now… he’s stuck. With me. For six months. Away from the life he actually wanted.
I’ve ruined everything. And there’s no way to fix it. Unless I leave. Run away. But where would I even go? My mother won’t take me back—not after everything. And I can’t put her health at risk. I won’t do that to her. There’s nowhere left. No one.
I stare at the ceiling, the tears drying on my cheeks. Why, Kanha? Why me?
I just wanted a little happiness. Was that really too much to ask?
CHAPTER 7
ANIKA
I sit at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the pleats of my saree. It’s a simple one—nothing flashy. I chose it deliberately, hoping to blend into the background. There’s nothing to celebrate today, no joy to dress up for. I feel like a guest here… no, not even that. A guest would be welcome. I feel like a burden.
A shaky breath escapes my lips, trying to calm the storm inside me. Even in this plain outfit, I feel like I stick out—like an intruder in a place I no longer belong to. The silence in the room suffocates me, thick with leftover tension from last night. My nerves are a mess; my thoughts tangle. Do I wait for someone to call me? Or do I just walk out and face the awkward glances and the judgment in their eyes? What if no one calls me? Am I just supposed to sit here all day till someone remembers I exist?
I get up and start pacing, chewing on my thumbnail without realizing it. My stomach churns with uncertainty. And then—I hear the soft creak of the door opening.
Aarav walks in, his posture rigid, eyes dull with exhaustion. It’s obvious he didn’t sleep much either. He doesn’t even glance at me. Just heads straight to the closet, pulls the door open, and shuts it behind him with a loud thud.
I freeze. My hand stills near my mouth. What the hell?
My chest tightens with a mix of frustration and hurt. Why is he behaving like this? Like I begged him to marry me? Like this was my plan? I could've figured something else out for my mom—anything but this. I never asked him to fix things by tying himself to me. And as soon as those words left his mouth, my mother was not going to take a no.
I glare at the closed door, my anger bubbling quietly under my skin. I want to scream. I want to yell at him and ask him why he’s punishing me for something I didn’t even want in the first place. But I know it’ll be useless. He’s not the kind of person who listens when he’s shut off like this, or at least it used to be like that when we were kids.
A knock on the door pulls me back to the present. I quickly wipe at my face, open the door a little, and peek out. It’s Bhabhi. She’s smiling—small and sweet.
“Good morning,” she chirps, radiantly, as if last night didn't happen.
I force a smile. “Morning.” Good morning doesn’t sound right because there’s nothing good about this morning.
She looks me up and down, eyes lighting up. “Good, you’re ready!” Before I can ask what that means, she grabs my hand.
“Come on!” She seems excited, bouncing on her feet a little as we walk. I can't help but wonder—what exactly is she so excited about?
“By the way,” she grins, “you look really pretty.” I smile faintly.
She’s tiny and full of energy. No wonder Aarav likes her. She’s the kind of person who could charm anyone with thatbubbly presence. And she talks a lot. Not that I mind—honestly, it’s refreshing. No one else here even wants to look at me, let alone speak to me.
“Oh! I didn’t even introduce myself properly,” she adds quickly. “I’m Shivani—Rudraksh’s wife. At first I was so confused seeing how everyone already knew you. I was like, who is she?! But Rudra told me all about you. Apparently, you annoyed him a lot growing up.”
I laugh softly, pouting. “I didn’t do anything! He used to get annoyed with everyone.”
She giggles. “That does sound like him.”
As we walk, I ask her cautiously, “Where are we going?”
“To the kitchen,” she says. “It’s your pehli rasoi today.”
I stop mid-step, my stomach dropping. “But…” I trail off. How do I even explain? She knows how things are right now. Everyone’s upset. No one even wants me here. Rituals feel pointless. We haven't conducted any till now; what's the need of this one?
She squeezes my hand, her warm hand engulfing my cold ones. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”
I look at her, wondering how she manages to stay so upbeat in all this tension. But I nod, following her quietly. The nervous flutter in my chest refuses to settle. When we enter the kitchen, Aunty and Badi Maa are already there. They glance up, their eyes scanning me quickly before settling on Bhabhi. The shift in the room’s energy is instant—more silence, more weight in the air.
