15

9. Invitation

Natasha's POV

Another day passed, and my college's holidays continued, confining me to the confines of my home. The weight of sadness hung heavy over me, knowing that my marriage had been arranged with someone I didn't even know. What added to my sorrow was the fact that I was being married off at the tender age of 18, a fate I had never envisioned for myself. I longed to be an independent woman, capable of standing on my own two feet.

Yet, despite my desires, I felt powerless to change my circumstances. My body still bore the physical wounds of the abuse I had endured, each ache and pain a reminder of the trauma I had suffered. It felt as though my bones were broken, making even the simplest of tasks a challenge. And yet, I knew I had to continue working, lest my father's wrath befall me.

As I went about my chores, dusting off the living room, my gaze fell upon a stack of envelopes resting on the table. Their glossy surfaces caught my eye, drawing me closer as I reached out to pick them up.

My eyes widened in shock as I read the words inscribed on the envelope:

๐‘บ๐’Š๐’…๐’…๐’‰๐’‚๐’“๐’•๐’‰ ๐‘ด๐’‚๐’๐’‰๐’๐’•๐’“๐’‚ ๐‘พ๐’†๐’…๐’” ๐‘ต๐’‚๐’•๐’‚๐’”๐’‰๐’‚ ๐‘จ๐’ˆ๐’‚๐’“๐’˜๐’‚๐’

The elegant golden letters, beautifully crafted in bold cursive, seemed to mock me with their stark reminder of the impending marriage I had no say in.

My hand trembled as I held the envelope, the weight of its contents sinking in. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, causing me to flinch and drop the envelope to the floor.

Turning around, I found my dad standing there, his cold gaze fixed upon me.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone icy.

"N-nothing... I was just... dusting," I stammered, trying to regain my composure.

He approached and picked up the envelopes before informing me of their purpose.

"These are your wedding invitation cards. Your uncle and I are going to our relatives' house to invite them," he stated, his tone devoid of warmth.

With that, he headed towards the door, issuing one final command before leaving.

"Clean the house, and by the time I come back, I need my meal ready," he ordered, before exiting and driving away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of impending doom hanging over me.

As my dad drove away, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of the house, I sank onto the couch, my legs unable to bear the weight of my despair any longer. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, each droplet a testament to the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that consumed me.

"I-i... don't want... to," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own sobs. The words echoed in the empty room, a desperate plea to the void.

A torrent of questions flooded my mind, each one more agonizing than the last.

"Will he love me? Will the man I'm being forced to marry be as abusive as my father? Must I endure more pain in my in-laws' house as well? Will this suffering be my reality for the rest of my life? Will he even care for me?"

The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket, squeezing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping for breath. In the midst of my despair, one thought shone through with crystalline clarity: I needed someone who understood my pain, someone who cared.

And in that moment, my thoughts turned to Shreya, my best friend. She had always been there for me, a beacon of light in the darkness. But even as I yearned for her comfort, I couldn't help but wonder: What could she possibly do to ease the anguish that gripped my heart? I felt utterly and completely helpless, lost in a sea of uncertainty and despair.

As my phone rang, I quickly wiped away my tears and checked the caller ID. It was Shreya. My heart leaped at the sight of her name, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that enveloped me. With trembling hands, I answered the call.

"H-hello?" I greeted, my voice still shaky with emotion.

"Hello,Natasha?kya hua?sab theek haina?tu ro Rahi thi kya?" Shreya's voice was filled with concern, cutting through the turmoil in my mind.

"Hello, Natasha? What happened? Is everything okay? Were you crying?"

"Kuch nahi,tu bata,tune kyu call kiya?" I deflected, trying to sound composed and not burden her with my troubles.

"Nothing, you tell me, why did you call me?"

"Nahi nahi,bata muje kya hua?,mei aau waha?tuje koi madad chaiye?ย  Her worry was palpable, her concern unwavering.

"No, no, tell me what happened? Should I come over? Do you need any help?"

"Nahi,Shreya, Tention lene ki koi jarurat nahi hai. Ek bar jab hum face to face mil jaye,toh me tuje sab bataungi". I assured her, attempting to ease her concern.

"No, Shreya, no need to be tense. Once we meet face to face, I'll tell you everything,"

But then, I heard a faint noise in the background, a man's voice saying: "Nahi,puch na usse abhi yaar kya hua usse?" My frown deepened at the interruption.

"No,ask her now,what happened to her?"

"Shreya?" I questioned, sensing something amiss.

"Haa?" She replied nervously.

"Yes?"

"Koi hai kya tere saath?" I asked, confusion creeping into my tone.

"Is someone there with you?"

"N-nahi,kon hoga yaha mere saath...mei akele hu,haa,mei akele hu," she stammered, her voice faltering.

"N-no, who can be here with me... I'm alone, yeah, I'm alone,"

"Shreya,juth mat bol.mei jaanti hu tuje. Tu juth bol Rahi hai. Bata muje kon hai waha?"ย  I pressed, my tone growing stern.

"Shreya, don't lie. I know you. You're lying. Tell me who's there,"

"U-uhhh,ye mera...ye..Mera bhai,haa,ye mera bhai hai,"ย  she stumbled over her words.

"U-uhhh, it's my... it's... my brother. Yeah, it's my brother,"

"Bhai?" I echoed, my confusion deepening.

"Brother?"

"Haa,Mera bhai.wo Mera apna Bhai to nahi hai,lekin wo mere apne jaisa hai," she explained hastily.

"Yeah, my brother. He's not my actual brother, but he's like family to me,"

"Acha,fir me tujse baad me baat krti hu"ย  I said, feeling a pang of unease at the mysterious presence in the background.

"Ohh. Then I'll talk to you later,"

"Kyu?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Tuje pata haina muje pasand nahi apna personal information share Krna kisi stranger ke saath,chahe wo tere Bhai hee kyu na ho," I replied firmly.

"You know I don't like sharing my personal information with strangers, even if they're your 'brother',"

"Okay, dear, no problem. Your happiness is my happiness," she said understandingly.

"Mei tere Ghar shaam ko aaugi,theek hai?" she added.

"I'll come over to your house in the evening, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

"Well then, bye," she said.

"Hmm, bye," I replied, ending the call with a heavy sigh.

As I hung up the phone, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered. Pushing the unsettling thoughts aside, I forced myself to focus on the household chores, knowing that my dad would return soon. But despite my efforts, my mind remained heavy with worry, the weight of uncertainty bearing down on me like a suffocating blanket.

---

อ™โบหš*โ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™โœฉโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™*หšโบโ€งอ™โบหš*โ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™โœฉโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™*หšโบโ€งอ™โบหš*โ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™โœฉโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™*หšโบโ€งอ™

๐Ÿ’ A bouquet for y'all since you all made it till the end ๐Ÿ˜‰

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