Nestled in the intricate folds of my lehenga, I found solace in the canvas of the morning sky—a symphony of red and orange, silently witnessing the threads of my life unravelling.
A sigh escaped, carrying with it a chorus of "if onlys." If only I hadn't run, if only he hadn't called off the wedding, if only Darpan had spoken. Today should have been about love and promises.
Restless, my fingers sought refuge in a loose thread, bangles softly jingling. I craved distraction, but my thoughts stubbornly circled back to cutting words and unspoken truths. Was I really that mystifying, that unlovable? Anger simmered, seeking an outlet. My gaze fixated on a liquor bottle, an unwitting vessel for my turmoil.With raw emotion, I hurled the bottle into the lake. A distant shatter resonated, leaving me to wonder if it mirrored my own fractured self.
"If only I could..." A familiar jeep horn sighed through the air. Darshita emerged, eyes red—whether from tears or a touch too much courage, I couldn't tell. She approached with wavering steps."There you are—I knew I'd find you here."She settled beside me, arms offering silent solace. Tears flowed,finally finding comfort.Releasing me, she wiped away her tears and handed me her phone.
A knot tightened in my stomach as I read Dad's message: "Marry Darpan." Mom's plea followed, "For our dignity, for our sake, please agree to marry Darpan."
A pang gripped my chest, and the world blurred. Through the haze, I glimpsed Darshita's concerned eyes and Darpan's shadow, both intricately woven into the tapestry of my unraveling reality, leaving me to wonder which threads I could still grasp.
YOU ARE READING
𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐟 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮
Short StoryChhavi's life was on track when she was marrying and flying off to London forever,but life has never been easy on her. A tragic incident leaves her with nothing but the choice to be with her best friend's brother Darpan. A compromise,an arrangement...
