She doesn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry you had to marry me,” she whispers.
The words are barely there—thin, exhausted, like they’ve been sitting in her chest for far too long.
Something inside me cracks.
“What?” I frown, leaning in, trying to catch her eyes. “Why would you say that?”
My mind races immediately, flipping through memories like pages I’ve read a hundred times. Did I say something wrong? Did I push too much? Did I make her feel trapped? Unwanted?
I replay everything—every smile, every laugh, every quiet moment we’ve shared. All I remember is warmth. Her warmth. The way she fills space so naturally, how she laughs with her whole face, how she makes even silence feel lighter.
“I am such an embarrassment, Dhruv.” Her voice breaks. “I always wanted good for you. I was so selfish. I should have stopped you from marrying me.”
My chest tightens painfully.
“You definitely didn’t deserve it,” she says. “You didn’t deserve… me.”
Her tears spill over then, no longer contained, sliding down her cheeks unchecked. Every word feels like someone is twisting a knife slowly into my ribs.
“I’m so… huge,” she whispers, the word loaded with shame. “And so… unworthy to be beside you.”
I don’t even realize I’ve moved until my hands are on her shoulders. Firm. Not enough to hurt—but enough to make her still.
“Sitara,” I exclaim, my voice louder now. She flinches. The sight of it makes my heart drop straight into my stomach.
I immediately soften my grip. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, breathless. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She looks down again, her shoulders curling inward, like she’s trying to make herself smaller.
“No, Dhruv,” she says quietly. “I don’t think you understand yet. You married me out of pity. There’s nothing else that would’ve made you do it.”
Her words hit harder than any blow.
“There’s no reason why someone likeyouwould be with someone like… me.”
“Sitara.”
My voice rises despite myself.
“Sitara,” I repeat, sharper now, because hearing her say that—about herself—feels unbearable.
“There’s an entire universe of reasons why you shouldn’t be with me, but all those reasons you stated are not it,” I say, the truth spilling out before I can stop it. “And if you think you were selfish, you’re wrong.” I take a breath, my chest heaving. “I was.”
Her head snaps up. “I married you because…” I inhale sharply, “I love you,” I finally whisper.
The words hang between us. Heavy. Unavoidable.
Her eyes widen, shock freezing her features.
“I have always loved you,” I continue, my voice rough now, raw in a way it rarely is. “I didn’t even realize when it happened. It just… did.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
“Watching you get married to that bastard that day was torture,” I admit, the memory still burning. “And when he didn’t show up—despite your pain—I was happy.Because if that hadn’t happened,” I say, my voice dropping as realization crashes into me, “I would never have had a chance with you.”
Silence. Thick. Deafening. Her mouth parts slightly, disbelief written all over her face. I should stop. I know I should. But I can’t let her believe the lies she’s been telling herself.
