It unsettled me.
“I can’t wait to have grandchildren, Saurav,” he said, his voice oddly soft. “I always dreamed of your marriage. Not like this… but still. I am glad you got married.”
“Dad…” My jaw tightened. There were a thousand things I wanted to say, and none of them were respectful.
He seemed about to say something else, but then he paused, studying me. “I know you’re angry,” he continued. “But I don’t know why I feel this strange happiness. I can’t explain it. When I saw you standing beside Kavya… I felt something. You look good together.”
I frowned at him, disbelief flashing through me. Happiness? He was happy? I had never seen this man genuinely smile. Not after my mother left him for another man. After that, he had become cold, distant, and emotionless. He never laughed.
And now, of all times, when I was trapped in a marriage built on accusation and humiliation, he was smiling.
Was he really enjoying this? The idea clawed at my chest. The man who had barely spoken to me for years now looked almost content. As if my forced marriage had filled some empty space inside him.
“Is this amusing to you?” I asked quietly, my voice dangerously calm.
His smile faded slightly. “Don’t misunderstand me.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I replied. “You think this is responsibility? You think I deserve this?”
“I think,” he said firmly, “that sometimes life pushes us into places we don’t choose but maybe we need it.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “You think I needed to marry a woman who filed a rape case against me?”
He held my gaze, unflinching. “I think you needed something that would shake you.”
There it was. He didn’t believe me either. The realization settled heavily inside me. “Whatever makes you sleep at night,” I muttered. I didn’t wait for his reply. “I gotta go,” I said tightly. “She must be waiting.” The words felt like sand in my mouth.
I walked toward the door, feeling his eyes on my back. For a brief second, I wondered if he would stop me again but he didn’t.
I pushed the door open slowly. The room was vibrant and colourful unlike my dark mood. The air smelled of flowers and incense, remnants of rituals that were supposed to symbolize purity and union. Instead, it felt suffocating.
I looked at Kavya as she was sitting on the bed, dressed in red, her jewelry still on, her posture stiff. Her eyes were distant, and unreadable, not victorious.
I closed the door behind me, the soft click echoing louder than it should have. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then the anger surged back as I strode toward her.
“You won, didn’t you, Mrs. Chauhan?” I said, my voice was dripping with taunt and accusation.
She flinched at the name. Mrs. Chauhan. She slowly stood up, her movements hesitant. There was a flicker of fear in her eyes or maybe I imagined it. She watched me carefully, as if calculating how close I might come.
She said nothing.
Yes, that was wise because if she opened that filthy mouth of hers to spin another lie, I wasn’t sure what I would become.
I stopped in front of her, close enough to see the slight tremor in her hands. I towered over her, anger radiating from every nerve in my body.
“Say something,” I demanded.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, as though she were trying to steady her breathing. Containing her fear or containing her guilt?
“You don’t look very happy for someone who just achieved her life’s biggest goal,” I continued coldly. “Money. Status. My name, right?”
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
“Was this the plan from the beginning?” My teeth clenched. “Trap me. Cry victim. Force a marriage. Secure the Chauhan fortune?”
Still silent.
The quiet only fueled my rage.