Sixty Eight

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Happy Holi Everyone!!!

A/N: You won't need popcorn for this chapter, but you might want some tissues! If you're feeling the feels already, crank up some sad music, trust me, it'll hit you right in the feels. (This chapter was basically written with a sad playlist on repeat, so I get it!) 

-𝓐 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝔀𝓸-

A film of tears welled in Aanya's eyes, blurring the edges of the scene before her. Each blink threatened to spill them over, a dam on the verge of bursting. Her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms, the pain a dull ache compared to the storm raging within. Every fiber of her being screamed a primal protest, to scream, to shout, to tear this twisted ceremony from its foundations. But she stood rooted, a statue sculpted from helplessness. Her husband, the man she'd dreamt of sharing a life with, recited vows that were once hers alone, now echoing hollowly as they were pledged to another. The weight in her heart was a physical thing, a crushing stone threatening to steal her breath.

Kunti watched Aanya retreat, the vibrant colors of the ceremony suddenly seeming to mock the despair etched on her daughter-in-law's face. A pang of guilt, sharp as a shard of glass, pierced Kunti's heart. This was not the future she'd envisioned for Aanya and Arjun, and the weight of responsibility for the unforeseen turn of events settled heavily on her shoulders.

Aanya walked on, each step a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil churning within. The once joyous sounds of the wedding receded into an indistinct murmur, leaving behind a hollow silence as deafening as a war cry. With each footfall, the invisible thread connecting her to the life she'd dreamt of frayed further, threatening to snap entirely. Finally, her legs gave way, and she crumpled to her knees amidst the cool grass. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, blurring into a kaleidoscope of pain. Her heart, a fragile bird trapped in a cage, fluttered wildly, threatening to break free from its confines with each ragged gasp for air. A choked sob escaped her lips, the first tear a solitary sentinel, soon joined by a relentless torrent that mirrored the storm raging within. Here, in the quiet solitude, Aanya finally allowed herself to surrender to the crushing weight of despair, the shattered fragments of her dreams falling like rain around her.

In the crucible of her anguish, memories of happier times surfaced like flickering flames. Aanya saw not the stoic figure reciting vows to another, but the man who'd once stolen her laughter with a whispered joke. The shared glances, the secret dreams whispered under a starlit sky, all resurfaced with agonizing clarity. Each cherished memory was a shard of a shattered mirror, reflecting a love that felt both real and heartbreakingly out of reach. A bittersweet longing for a past that could never be reclaimed gnawed at her, a relentless ache that overshadowed the vibrant colors of their history.

Tears, once held back with the fierce pride of a wounded tigress, now streamed down her cheeks like a relentless monsoon. The weight of despair, a suffocating cloak, threatened to pull her under.  She yearned for a comforting hand, a voice of solace to pierce the deafening silence that surrounded her. But as she scanned the vast expanse, the emptiness echoed the hollowness within. She was utterly alone, adrift on a sea of grief with no life raft in sight.

A guttural cry escaped her lips, a primal sound that tore through the stillness. It was a raw, visceral outpouring of her pain, a desperate attempt to release the unbearable weight that threatened to crush her. The desolate landscape became an audience to her lament, the wind carrying the echo of her sorrow in a haunting melody that seemed to linger long after the sound itself had faded. Aanya sank deeper into her despair, the world a blurry canvas of shattered dreams and a future painted in shades of uncertainty.

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