A shudder goes down my spine, buckling my knees with its intensity.
It wasn’t cold feet or a last-minute decision, which makes it much more agonizing.
He was never going to marry me.
But why humiliate me like this?
I blink away fresh tears as a soft hand lands on my shoulder. I look down into Aryan’s mom’s sad eyes. “Please forgive us, Arya. We never wished for this to happen.”
Dropping her hand, she walks past me.
Nitin pauses by my side, quietly murmuring, “I thought I raised him better. Take care of yourself.”
I stay rooted to the same spot long after they leave.
The sound of my parents arguing puts me into motion. Their burning gazes land on me when I step into the room. Neither of them runs toward me to comfort me.
“P-Papa,” I stammer.
“Did you know he was having doubts about marrying you?”
I flinch at my father’s accusation. “Of course not.”
“Were you both having trouble in your relationship?” asks my mother in a clipped tone. She’s looking at me like it’s somehow my fault. While my father rips his gaze from mine. “Why would he do this? Did you both have a fight?”
Her cold words cut something deep inside me.
I’m falling apart right in front of my parents and they couldn’t care less.
It’s all about upholding a perfect public image.
“It doesn’t matter,” rumbles my father angrily, still not sparing me a glance. “The damage is done. Yet another mess I have to clean up.”
As numbness takes root with each passing second, my tears dry up. Ice runs in my veins. My father’s palpable wrath and disappointment wrap around my skin, making fear slither up my spine. So, before it can blow up, I drop my gaze to the floor, and stammer, “I-I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am for being saddled with two disgraceful daughters.”
I clutch the fabric of my skirt as the ground at my feet blurs.
“Keep her out of my sight.” My father issues the order to my silent mother. “And don’t let her out of here. I’m going to handle the guests.”
When he walks past me, I hear him mutter under his breath, “Worthless.”
All I can think is that karma has finally struck.
After all, what kind of woman deserves a fairy tale after nearly destroying her sister’s?
Chapter One
Arya
(Present)
Ditched at the altar.
That’s what would’ve been etched on my tombstone if I weren’t Indian and our religion allowed burying the body. It still hasn’t saved me from being referred to as the girl who got left at the altar by the entire country.
Every headline said the same.
