Chapter 2: Shattered Engagements and Bitter Truths

All the blame lies with me alone. It was I who, while drunk, took advantage of Priya. She was forced by me, and I... will take responsibility for this.

Arjun’s voice came out raw, the words scraping the air.

He stood tall and rigid in front of the rumpled bed, a fleeting panic in his eyes before he schooled his face into calm determination. His collar gaped open, his hair wild—a sight I’d never seen on the usually dignified Arjun.

On the floor, Priya’s lemon-yellow lehenga lay torn. Even a fool could guess what everyone was thinking.

Behind him, Priya shrank beneath the covers, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Her hands twisted the edge of the bedsheet, lips quivering as she tried to hold herself together. The blush on her cheeks lingered, deep as gulmohar in bloom, while her watery brown gaze flicked up only to dart away again. Fear and shame radiated from her, making her seem impossibly small in that crowded room.

All around us, some stared in shock, others frowned in judgment. But most looked at me—some with pity, others with sly satisfaction.

After all, who in Lucknow hadn’t heard that Arjun Singh, the pride of Rajpur, had chosen to marry me—the daughter from the second wife—against his family’s wishes?

My face went white as chuna, my nails digging crescents into my palms as I tried to steady myself. The gold ring on my finger bit into my skin, drawing blood, but it couldn’t compare to the ache inside my chest. In the mirrored wardrobe, I caught a glimpse of myself: hair slightly undone, kajal smudged, as if I’d cried through an entire shaadi.

Kabir bhaiya stormed in, his eyes bloodshot. "Bastard! What did you do to my sister?!"

Without warning, he grabbed Arjun by the collar, so angry he let out a laugh that sounded like a threat. "Take responsibility? How will you take responsibility? I thought you were a gentleman, but you’re worse than a beast!"

Kabir’s voice shook, and his hand trembled as he tightened his grip. The silence was broken only by the whir of the ceiling fan and a distant burst of firecracker, the world holding its breath before his next words. "You ruined my little sister’s honour, and you think you can brush it off with ‘I was drunk’ and ‘I’ll take responsibility’?"

By all rights, I should have stepped in—should have tried to make peace, as always. But the humiliation was too much. I stood rooted to the spot, the lines of invisible WhatsApp gossip floating before my eyes as soon as the door opened.

[Arrey, did you see? This is straight out of a Zee TV serial!]

[Heroine got drugged, hero ran away—kya flop scene, yaar.]

[Bas, now the heroine will get all the sympathy and the supporting girl—kya bechari!]

[She’s getting between the second hero and the heroine’s baby—so messy, yaar!]

[Second hero is so responsible! If he doesn’t love her, who would? I’m shipping Arjun-Priya CP first.]

No time to process it all—I clung to one truth: Arjun was sacrificing himself for Priya’s reputation. But he wasn’t the one who ruined her honour. How could he do this? Didn’t he know Priya and I never got along? Didn’t he hate her for her cruelty, for always reminding me of my lower status?

He’d sworn to love only me, had asked for my hand against his family’s wishes. Our engagement was set. And now, he’d destroy his own reputation for Priya?

Didn’t he care what this would do to me?

I didn’t want to believe it. But when Arjun’s gaze accidentally met mine, he froze—a flash of guilt in his eyes before he looked away, clenching his fist, his face set with determination. It felt like a slap, and my heart plummeted.

Suddenly, memories spun before my eyes: my engagement snatched away, my name dragged through the mud, Priya’s smile as she claimed what was mine.