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Hanging up the call, she hurriedly draped her saree, her heart racing with anticipation and concern.
With every heartbeat echoing in her ears, she quickly made her way to Amaira's room, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her mind. Why would Amaira feel the need to run away from here?
Out of breath, Ishika burst into the room, her eyes widening at the sight before her. Amaira sat on the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, while Siya tried to console her.
The room was a chaotic mess; broken mirrors lay scattered, and everything was in disarray, mirroring the turmoil inside Amaira. What could have happened here? Panic surged through Ishika as she took in the scene.
With cautious, slow steps, she approached them, the sound of Amaira's sobs piercing her heart. She gently placed her hand on Amaira's shoulder, and their eyes met, filled with unspoken pain.
A fragile smile broke through Amaira's tears as she leaped into Ishika's arms, hugging her tightly. "I knew Bhabhi, you'd understand me. You will, right?" she pleaded, her voice trembling with hope.
"Of course, Amaira," Ishika replied softly, her heart aching for her sister-in-law. "I will always support you. Just tell me what's wrong. I promise we'll figure this out together." She guided Amaira back to the bed, sitting beside her, ready to listen and help mend the broken pieces of her heart.
"Bhabhi, please help me to run from here! I want to go!" Amaira cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice filled with desperation and longing.
Ishika gently wiped the tears from Amaira's cheeks with her thumbs, her heart heavy with concern. She had so many questions swirling in her mind, but she could sense the gravity of the situation and knew this wasn't the right moment to ask.
"Yeah, baby, tell me where you want to go. You can't just run away without telling us what's making you feel this way," she said softly, cupping Amaira's face in her hands, her voice laced with warmth and love.
"I want to go with him! I want to leave this house forever, Bhabhi!" Amaira's voice trembled, each word dripping with a mixture of fear and determination, as if she was ready to break free from the chains that bound her.
"I want to leave this house forever, bhabhi, please help me," she repeated, her voice trembling as I remained silent, caught off guard by her desperation.
What should I even say? How should I react? This was about love, a matter of the heart.
"Bhabhi," she sobbed, tears glistening in her eyes.
"Bhabhi, don't listen to her; she's gone mad in love," Siya interjected, striding over to us with a dismissive tone.
"You shut up, Siya! I wi-" Amaira began, but I cut her off.
"Who is he?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
A smile broke through her tears, illuminating her face. "Bhabhi, he studies at the same university as me in Mumbai. He's originally from Punjab," she blurted out, her grip tightening around my hand as if seeking strength.
I nodded, trying to absorb the whirlwind of emotions. "I will talk to Avyaan," I said, attempting to rise from my seat.
"No, bhabhi, please! Don't tell anyone! No one will let me marry him!" she pleaded, panic rising in her voice.
Marry?
"Amaira, how long have you known him? You're already talking about marriage?" I asked, my tone serious, trying to understand this sudden shift in her life.
"Yes, bhabhi, he's a really good man. I know that if anyone finds out about this, they'll never let me marry him because of... because of our religion," she replied, her voice laced with frustration and fear. What had happened to my Amaira? She was never one to use such harsh words, her spirit so vibrant and full of hope.
In that moment, I could see the turmoil within her, the struggle between her heart and the expectations of the world around her. The weight of her love felt heavy, and I couldn't help but feel the depth of her pain.
I kneeled down and held her hand in my palm. "Amaira, you're just 20. You have so much to achieve; this marriage and all can happen later," I said gently, but her expression was clear-she wasn't going to listen to anyone.
"Bhabhi, I don't have any choice! It's his last year, and after that, his family will fix his marriage with someone else! Why are you not understanding?" she exclaimed, standing up abruptly, her voice breaking as she shouted the last line with all her might.
"Amaira, there's no need to shout at bhabhi," Siya interjected, trying to diffuse the tension.
"So tell your bhabhi to not give me this excuse! If she doesn't want to help, she can leave! I will face everything alone!" she cried, wiping her tears away harshly, as if trying to erase the pain.
Where did my baby learn to speak like this? She was never this harsh. My heart ached for her; the innocence I once knew was slipping away, replaced by a fierce determination mixed with desperation.
I could feel the weight of her love pressing down on her, and it terrified me to see her so lost.
"Okay, okay, calm down. First of all, remove this thought of running away from here and stop crying like a maniac," I said softly, wiping her tears away with my thumb, trying to soothe her.
"And you trust your bhabhi, right?" I smiled, hoping to reassure her with my words.
"I do, bhabhi, but not my famil-" Before she could finish, I interrupted gently, "You trust me, right?" She nodded, her eyes still filled with uncertainty.
"So let's stay calm. We will solve this together. If we try to confront our family, they will surely listen-" But before I could finish, she jerked up, pulling my hand away with sudden force.
"No need to help me, bhabhi! Just go and enjoy your life! I will do whatever I want; it's my life! And don't you dare tell anyone about this, or I swear I will kill mysel-"
Her words were cut off by the sound of a chat echoing in the room, and in a moment of desperation, I slapped her, causing her to stumble back.
"Stop yelling this nonsense, Amaira! Are you even thinking before you say all this?" Tears brimmed in her eyes, reflecting a mix of pain and anger.
"You know what, bhabhi? NO NEED TO HELP ME! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" she shouted, her voice breaking as if each word was a plea for freedom from the turmoil inside her.
"Amaira, y-" Before Siya could finish, Amaira cut in, "You shut up, Siya! For God's sake, it's my life! Don't interfere, did you get it?"
This is not my Amaira. She is really not.
My Amaira was bubbly, chaotic, and humble. What has gotten into her?
"BHABHI, JUST LEAVE! AND YOU, SIYA, YOU ALSO GET OUT!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face. I tried to go to her, but Siya held my hand tightly.
"She'll be okay, bhabhi. Let's leave," she urged, but I stopped, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.
"But Siya, look at her! We can't leave her like this!" My gaze was fixed on the messy state of Amaira, her pain palpable.
"Bhabhi, she has behaved like this with me for the hundredth time since yesterday. After some time, we will make her understand," Siya said, and I reluctantly nodded, feeling a heavy weight in my heart as we left the room.
What should I do now? I need to tell Avyaan about this; he will surely help his sister.
"Don't you dare tell this to anyone, or I will kill myself," her words echoed in my ears, a haunting reminder of her despair. What should I do? Gosh...
I entered the room again, my heart racing like a drum in my chest. "Where were you?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly as I looked up at the owner of the voice. It was him, dressed in black formal pants and a crisp white shirt, two buttons undone, radiating an aura that made my heart sink and my breath hitch.
And this is where he actually kills me.
"Biwi," my bubble of thoughts burst, and I realized I was staring at my own husband, the man I thought I knew.
So?
"Pati hai mera ghurungi," I reminded myself, trying to steady my emotions.
"Yeahh," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of confusion and yearning.
"I'm all yours, biwi. Btw do you want to see me up close, or should I remove these clothes for a better show?" He walked toward me, a smirk playing on his lips, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within me-desire, fear, and an undeniable thrill.
"Why are you looking sad?" he asked softly, wrapping his arm around my bare waist and pulling me gently against his chest.
What should I do? Should I tell him?
Of course, I should. He is her brother; he deserves to know.
But, ugh...
First, I'll talk to Amaira and we'll sort everything out. Then I'll tell him.
Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.
I took a deep breath, covering my emotions with a smile that felt both forced and genuine, and draped my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his body against mine.
"Jiska aisa pati ho, usse kis baat ka dukh, patidev?" I teased, smirking as I watched the color rise in his cheeks.
"Did you just blush?" I asked playfully, my heart racing at the sight of his embarrassment.
"Uhm, no, I don't blush," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. I raised an eyebrow, challenging him with my gaze.
"C'mon, you did! I saw it," I insisted, a playful grin spreading across my face as he instantly denied it once more.
"Okay, I did, so what?" He raised his eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "So I should be awarded for making the khadus king of Rajasthan blush, right?" I couldn't help but enjoy this teasing banter.
"Then that means I should be awarded a Grammy for making the queen of Rajasthan unable to walk yesterday, doesn't it?" He traced his thumb along my waistline seductively, the smirk on his face both charming and infuriating.
"Both things are different, patidev," I replied, feeling a shiver run through my body from the coldness of his hands on my waist.
"So let's make it equal, then. I made you unable to walk, so you should do the same to me," he said with a mischievous grin.
Heinnn.
How am I supposed to make him unable to walk? Does he have a cunt or do I have a cock?
Ughh, Ishu, what are you thinking?
"I will not cut your legs, patidev; you're precious to me," I said, trying to keep my tone light as my mind raced for a better response.
The look on his face was one of exasperation, as if he were saying, "I'm fed up with her."
What? Really? He's fed up with me?
Kalesh.
"What look did you just give me, huh?" I glared at him, feeling a mix of annoyance and curiosity.
"Which look?" he questioned, feigning innocence as if he had no idea what I was talking about.
"The look you just gave-what does it mean?" I raised my eyebrow, gripping his collar, my heart pounding in anticipation.
"What does it mean?" he asked again, confusion evident on his face.
"I'm asking you, and you're questioning me. Just tell me what that look was about, huh?" I pressed, feeling the tension between us grow thicker, as his confusion only deepened.
"What look? I didn't do anything," his face transformed into an innocent mask, making him look undeniably cute.
"It means you're fed up with me," I said, my heart sinking a little as I watched him dramatically hit his forehead with his palm. I gritted my teeth, feeling a mix of annoyance and affection.
"See, once more you did it," he pouted, making a cry face, Was he really fed up with me?
"Priye, I will never get fed up with you," he reassured me calmly, his voice soothing. "You made that look, you know? First, you talk nonsense about making me unable to walk, and then when I respond logically, you make these faces." I mimicked his expression, trying to lighten the mood.
"Maaf karo meri maa," he joined his hands in front of me, his eyes wide and pleading. "Huh, Bigg Boss, mujhe hurt hua," I replied, folding my arms defiantly across my chest, trying to hold my ground.
"Heinn?" he reacted, his surprise evident. "Ek toh pehle se hi kaleshi aurat ho, ye sab dekh kar toh jaan kha jaogi meri!" I gritted my teeth, feeling the familiar mix of irritation and affection.
"What do you mean? Ab main kaleshi aurat lagne lagi? Wah!" I taunted, channeling my inner sassy wife.
"Aree, meri maa, nahi ho tum kaleshi aurat, bas," he said, putting on a cry face that made me want to laugh.
"Why are you taking a U-turn? First, you called me kaleshi aurat, and now when I ask, you say I'm not? Haan?" Before he could respond, my phone rang, displaying Siya's name.
I picked up, "Bhabhi, come downstairs, we have to decide the theme," she said, urgency in her voice. "Yeah, I'm coming," I replied and ended the call, feeling a mix of excitement and reluctance.
As I stepped out of his embrace, glaring at him playfully, I walked towards the door but paused midway, turning back to face him.
"Now you're not even stopping me, like you're actually happy that I'm going," I said, my voice tinged with a mix of sarcasm.
I taunted, "You're really fed up with me, aren't you?" I spoke and immediately came downstairs.
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