After completing his work, he entered his room which was all dark. He noticed the decoration of flowers, flavoured candles and dim lighting everywhere in his room. He pinched the top of his nose, he clearly said to do nothing in his room but his mother has her ways.

He saw his bride sitting in the middle of the bed, spreading her wedding lehenga all over his king-sized bed. Her face was still covered with a veil, like the whole time.

Her breath hitched when she heard someone enter the room.

It was him.

She was fiddling with her fingers, a sign showing she was nervous. What was she going to do now?

"Get up," Abhimaan spoke up in his chilling tone with his hands in his pocket.

He saw her shifting a little. But she didn't make any move.

"I said get up," He said again in his low husky voice.

She didn't look up. She got up slowly and released her breath which she didn’t know she had been holding.

He will see my face now! her thoughts screamed.

"Go and change into something casual." He said, no, ordered her in a sharp tone. He had no time to waste. He had an early morning meeting.

Without giving her another glance, he laid down on the bed, keeping his cell on the nightstand. Adjusting the temperature of the AC and he closed his eyes.

Many things were going on in his mind. Many things he had to settle but at the moment he was just trying to avoid the fact that he was married.

F-ck, he was married!

Whereas, Samaira was stunned by his behaviour. She was looking around to find the changing room and her suitcase which her Aunt sent with her.

She took small steps and entered the washroom with her luggage. Switching on the lights, the first thing she did was remove her veil.

After removing the netted cloth, she looked around with her mouth open. There was beautiful, natural material on the floor and walls. Expensive marble bathtub surrounded by velvet curtains. It was pure luxury.

This is a washroom? Are you kidding me?

Her subconscious was her biggest enemy, couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Seeing the sindoor filling her parted hair and the mangalsutra on her neck, her eyes filled up with tears.

She was married and she couldn’t do anything to change that fact.

She wanted to talk to someone, wanted someone to listen to her. But she had no one, as always. No one listens to her fears and insecurities. She cried again, keeping her hand on her mouth. She didn’t want him to hear her.

She was waiting for her aunt to clear up everything.

Samaira changed into a cotton night suit. She felt suffocated in that bridal lehenga. It wasn’t hers.

She would have admired the beauty of that wedding attire but now it was just a burden, which she was forced to carry.

She thought about spending the night in the washroom, maybe it could be her safe place. But she couldn’t do that.

Taking small steps out of the en-suite, she peeped out to check. She found all the lights switched off, but the dim light of candles was giving a clear view of his face. She stepped a little closer and saw the most charming face of her life.

Wow

She had never seen him before, not one being for gossip. He was breathing steadily. His stable body was giving him a more handsome and sexy look. She could see his muscled body.

He shifted in his sleep and she immediately turned around in fear.

She couldn’t face him.

She didn't want to sleep on the same bed with a stranger, so she sat on the couch, waiting for the new day. A new day to solve every problem. She didn't realize when she dozed off thinking about everything that took place that day.

.

.

.

Samaira opened her eyes and started to feel cold, the AC was on and the temperature was rapidly declining. She didn't have a blanket or sheet to cover herself so she covered herself with a dupatta on feeling cold.

She was confused by seeing the different surroundings but it didn't take a lot of time to remember everything. Her heart became heavy again. She felt like crying.

She found the room was empty, immediately relaxing. She had no clue what she would have done if he were to see her face. She hurriedly took her phone and called her aunt. After 2-3 rings, she didn't pick up.

Please, Aunty, pick up!!

"Who are you?"

Her eyes widened on hearing someone. She looked up slowly to find a middle-aged woman looking at her strangely.

Samaira got up immediately and took a few steps back. Her heart was beating fast.

"I asked you something, who are you? And what are you doing in my son's room?” It was Arunima, who came to meet her daughter in law and give her some clothes to wear for her first day.

Arunima saw Abhimaan in the gym, early in the morning. She thought of going and meeting Dhriti instead met with another girl sitting in his room.

" I-I " Samaira tried to answer her but failed miserably.

Arunima saw red bangles, sindoor and mangalsutra adorning her like a newlywed bride. What was happening here?

"Where is Dhriti?" She asked in a strict tone. She had a bad feeling about this.

"I don't-don’t know. She ran away yesterday" Samaira said, finally able to put her thoughts into words.

"What?" Arunima yelled, keeping her hand on her heart. Samaira looked down, clutching her dupatta as if grasping the last of her life.

"If she ran away, then who married my son?" She asked in a horrified tone.

Samaira didn't say anything. She had nothing to say. But Arunima got her answer without her saying anything.

"Oh, God!!" Her legs almost gave out on getting the shocking news. Her daughter in law ran away and someone else got married to her son.

Walking fast, she ran out of the room to tell everyone. Her son's life got destroyed, just like that.

Samaira put her palm on her mouth while crying. She has been just crying for the last 24 hours. And she had no idea how much still she needed to cry.

"Mumma, please save me" She whispered.

She heard some yelling and shouting.

"I have nothing to do with this mess. Send her to her house now or I'm calling the cops."

It was her husband who was yelling at the top of his voice. She could sense the tension. He was going to call the cops.

But have I done anything?

She heard the furious and loud thumping sounds coming closer to the room. If Samaira wasn’t scared earlier, she was now.

Is he going to kill me?

Of course, he is dumb-ass. Her subconscious, the villain of her life.

She looked around to save herself. She hid behind the curtains holding them tightly.

This was the first day of her so-called marriage and the last day of her life.

......

Dupatta is a length of material worn, arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez or kurta, by women from South Asia. It is basically a scarf used by South Asian women.