I walked into my room and quietly closed the door behind me, locking it as if to keep the storm of emotions at bay. My heart felt heavy, my chest tight as I leaned against the door for support. The dim light of the evening filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room.
My gaze drifted to the mirror on the opposite wall. Slowly, I pushed myself to stand and walked toward it, the weight of the pendant around my neck almost unbearable. As I stood before the mirror, I reached up, my fingers brushing the delicate chain, feeling the small, cold surface of the pendant.
It was his gift-a silent reminder of him. Ashtram. The name echoed in my mind like a whisper, soft and dangerous. His face flashed in my memory, his intense gaze, the way his touch had left a mark on my soul.
I clenched the pendant in my hand, the cool metal biting into my palm. Why was it so hard to let him go? Why did the thought of him still have this power over me? He was a devil-a criminal. He had caused me nothing but pain, and yet, here I was, unable to forget him.
But I couldn't let this weakness define me. I wouldn't. Uncle and Aunty had given me everything when I had nothing. They had taken me in, treated me like their own daughter. How could I disappoint them? How could I repay their kindness with selfishness?
I stared at my reflection, my eyes searching for strength. My heart felt like it was breaking all over again, but I forced myself to breathe. I had to let go. I had to move on.
"I'll agree," I whispered to my reflection, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "For them. For their happiness. I'll do it."
But even as I said it, my chest ached with the weight of the decision. A tear slipped from my eye, tracing a cold line down my cheek. Forgetting him felt impossible, but what choice did I have?
I loosened my grip on the pendant, letting it fall back against my chest. It lay there, a silent reminder of the past I was trying to leave behind.
As I turned away from the mirror, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was making a mistake. But I pushed the thought aside, burying it deep within me. This was the only way forward.
The room was silent except for the faint hum of the monitors in front of me. My gaze lingered on the screen, where she stood in front of the mirror, her delicate fingers tracing the pendant that rested against her skin. My pendant. A piece of me that she carried without even realizing it.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and something inside me twisted painfully. She looked so small, so vulnerable. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to smash the screen and go to her. Hold her. Tell her she didn't have to cry because I would never let anything happen to her.
The door opened behind me, and Vedant walked in, his confident stride breaking the heavy stillness of the room.
"It's done," he said, his tone casual but laced with a hint of satisfaction. "Everything's set. The feeds are live, and no one will know it's there. She's as safe as she can be."
I leaned back in my chair, a slow smirk curling on my lips. "Good. Now, I'll know every move she makes, every place she goes. No one will touch her without me knowing."
Vedant raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "You mean, no one but you?"
I shot him a warning glance, but my tone softened. "You don't get it, Ved. This isn't about control-it's about keeping her safe. She's my need. My only need."
"She's not some possession, Ash," Vedant said, sitting across from me. "You're treating her like she doesn't have a choice. What happens when she finds out you've been watching her every move?"
I exhaled sharply, leaning forward. "She doesn't understand how dangerous this world is. If she knew the threats that lurk in every shadow, she wouldn't fight me-she'd thank me. I don't care if she hates me for this."
Vedant studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're not doing this just to protect her. You're doing it because you can't stand the thought of her slipping away."
My jaw tightened, his words cutting through me. "She is slipping away," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I can't let that happen. I've already lost too much, Ved. I won't lose her too."
Vedant leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh. "You're obsessed, Ashtram. And obsession doesn't end well for anyone."
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to rein in the storm raging inside me. "You don't understand, Ved. She's not just someone I want-she's someone I need. I've been walking through this cursed existence for centuries, waiting for something, someone to make me feel again. And now that I've found her, I won't let her go. Not when I've finally found my reason to live."
Vedant shook his head, standing up. "You think you're protecting her, but you're just trapping her. And one day, she's going to realize that."
"She can hate me all she wants," I said, my voice cold and determined. "But at least she'll be safe. At least she'll be mine."
Vedant paused at the door, glancing back at me. "Just be careful, Ash. Love like this-it doesn't just heal. It destroys."
I didn't respond as he left. My eyes drifted back to the screen, where Niranya sat on the edge of her bed, wiping away a tear. Her pain was a knife to my chest, and yet I couldn't look away.
"Don't cry, Jaan," I murmured, my voice breaking. "You're too precious to shed tears. You don't see it yet, but everything I do-it's for you."
My fingers brushed against the screen, tracing the outline of her face. "You're my Angel, Niranya. My light in this endless darkness. I'll keep you safe, even if it means becoming the Devil you hate. Because no one-no one-will ever take you from me."
A soft smile tugged at my lips, tinged with both love and madness. She is mine. And I would burn the world to keep her that way.
The sunlight poured through the window as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My fingers absentmindedly played with the pendant around my neck-a habit I couldn't seem to break.
This isn't what I wanted.
A soft knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. Megha's familiar voice followed. "Niru? Can I come in?"
I took a deep breath, wiping away the tear that threatened to spill. "Yeah, come in."
Megha walked in, her usual bubbly energy subdued as she sat beside me. "So... Are you sure about this? About meeting the guy my parents picked?"
I forced a smile, knowing she was genuinely concerned. "Yes, Megha. Your parents have done so much for me. They took me in when I had nowhere to go. If this is what they think is best, I should at least give it a chance."
"But do you really want this?" she pressed, her voice softer now.
I hesitated, glancing at the pendant again. "It doesn't matter what I want, Megha. Some things are better left behind."
She frowned but didn't push further. "Alright. But if you change your mind at any point, just say the word. You don't have to go through with this for anyone's sake but your own."
I nodded, appreciating her support, even though my decision felt set in stone.
That evening, I dressed in a soft pink salwar kameez that Megha insisted I wear. The color, she said, made me look radiant. But no matter what I wore, I couldn't shake the heaviness in my chest.
The doorbell rang, and Megha's mother greeted the guests warmly. "Come in, come in! We're so glad you could make it."
I stood at the edge of the living room, trying to calm my racing heart as I caught a glimpse of him. Arhan Mehta. He was tall, with sharp features and an easy smile. He looked like the kind of man any girl would be lucky to marry-respectable, kind, and successful.
But he wasn't my Ash.
I shook the thought away as Megha's mother introduced us. "This is Arhan, and that's Niranya. Why don't you two sit and talk?"
We were led to a quieter corner of the house, away from the watchful eyes of the families.
Arhan smiled warmly as we sat down. "Hi, Niranya. It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," I replied, my voice polite but distant.
"I've heard a lot about you from Megha's parents," he said. "They say you're kind, hardworking, and... well, perfect."
I smiled faintly, unsure how to respond. "That's kind of them to say."
He chuckled, the sound easy and genuine. "I know this process can be a bit overwhelming, so if there's anything you want to ask or say, feel free. I'd rather we be honest with each other."
I looked at him, searching for something-anything-that would make my heart skip the way it did when I was around Ashtram. But there was nothing. Just emptiness.
"You seem nice," I said, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "What do you do?"
"I am a Businessman," he explained. "I'm based in London right now, but I come to India often for family. If this works out, I'd love for you to move there with me. It's a good life."
A good life. It sounded safe, stable. Everything I thought I wanted. But it wasn't what my heart yearned for.
Our conversation continued for a while, and he was everything I should have hoped for-polite, respectful, and understanding. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the ghost of Ashtram's presence.
When we rejoined the family, Megha's mother asked eagerly, "So, how did it go?"
Arhan smiled, glancing at me. "I think it went well."
His mother chimed in, "We like her already. She's perfect for our son."
They began discussing marriage arrangements, their excitement filling the room. Then came the question I dreaded.
"What do you think, Niranya?" Megha's father asked gently. "Are you okay with this?"
I hesitated, my mind screaming to say no. But the weight of their expectations, their love and care, pressed down on me. With a forced smile, I nodded. "If this is what you all think is best, then so do I."
The room erupted in joy, and before I knew it, Arhan's mother said, "We'd like to have the roka done right away. Arhan's schedule is tight, and we think the wedding can happen in ten days."
Ten days.
My heart sank, but I couldn't back out now. As they prepared for the small ceremony, I stood still, my mind a whirlwind of emotions.
Soon, Megha placed a small velvet box in my hand. "Here's the ring," she whispered, giving me a reassuring smile.
I watched as Arhan took the ring meant for me, sliding it onto my finger with a smile. Everyone clapped, their happiness palpable. When it was my turn, my fingers trembled slightly as I placed the ring on his hand.
It was done.
The roka was complete, and I was now engaged to Arhan Mehta.
As everyone celebrated around me, I felt like an outsider in my own life. My mind kept returning to him-his eyes, his voice, his touch.
Arhan was good. But he wasn't my Ash.
And no one ever would be.
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