VOTEEEEE FELLASSS 🔫

Meera stirred, feeling the warmth of the mattress beneath her, and snuggled closer, seeking comfort. But as her mind slowly woke up, a faint unease crept in. She felt the steady rise and fall beneath her cheek, the solid warmth of skin against hers. Her eyes flew open in alarm.

She was nestled against a man's bare chest.

Panic surged through her. Her breath caught, her heart pounding wildly. But then, clarity came. It was Shaurya—her husband.

The realization didn't bring comfort. Instead, it only heightened her discomfort. Just days ago, this man had been a stranger. Now, she was waking up in his arms, her body pressed against his. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she quickly averted her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart.

She tried to piece together the events of the previous night. She had fallen asleep in the car, too exhausted to make it to bed. Shaurya must have carried her. The thought sent another shiver through her. And now, here she was, waking up in his embrace.

Her thoughts spiraled, filled with unease and disquiet. She wasn't supposed to be here, in this man's arms, feeling the heat of his body so intimately against her own. The very idea was unsettling. The intensity of his hold on her was undeniable.

I wouldn't have minded if he had made me sleep on the couch.

How could he bear to have me in his bed? Did he not feel uncomfortable with me sharing his space like that?

His arms were wrapped tightly around her, as if he had no intention of letting her go. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her ear, the warmth of his breath as it stirred the hair near her forehead. Every sensation was a stark reminder of how close they were, of how little space there was between them.

Her discomfort grew as she became more aware of her own state of undress. Her thighs brushed against each other, and she realized with growing horror that she was only in a T-shirt and panties.

This is embarrassing

The soft fabric of the shirt was no shield against the knowledge that she was almost naked beneath it, with no bra to offer even the semblance of modesty. Her eyes widened, and a sickening realization struck her.

Oh my god! Shaurya had changed my clothes last night.

He saw me naked

The embarrassment was overwhelming, an acute sense of vulnerability washing over her.

Shameless man.

No Meera, don't call him bad names now. He is your husband now.

Forgive me god for calling him bad names.

But she couldn't stop feeling uncomfortable. This man, her husband, had seen her in a state she had never intended for him to see. Her mind flashed to Vikrant—Vikrant, the man she had thought would be the only one to see her like this.

Vikrant is not your husband, Meera. Shaurya is.

she mentally chastised herself.

Vikrant is married to Ishani Dii now.

The words felt like bitter ash in her mouth, a cruel reminder of how drastically her life had changed. She needed to accept this new reality, to face the fact that Shaurya was the man she was bound to now, not Vikrant.

She wriggled, trying to extract herself from Shaurya's tight hold. But the movement stirred him awake. He groaned, tightening his arms around her more.

"What?" Shaurya's voice was rough with sleep and annoyance.

"I-I need to get up," Meera stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shaurya's eyes narrowed, his tone laced with irritation. "So?, am I your servant now? You expect me to roll out the red carpet and carry you out of bed?"

Meera flinched at his tone. "No, it's just... your arm, it's around my waist..."

He blinked, realization dawning. His grip loosened further, and he cleared his throat awkwardly before throwing the quilt off and climbing out of bed, heading toward the bathroom.

Meera watched him go, her heart still hammering. She wanted to use the bathroom first, but now she'd have to wait. She pouted slightly, feeling a bit lost.

She got out of bed, her legs shaky. Glancing at the closet, she saw delicate nightdresses hanging inside. The thought of wearing something so revealing around Shaurya made her skin crawl.

She opted for one of Shaurya's sweatshirts. He had made her wear one of his T-shirts last night, so she figured he wouldn't mind. At least, she hoped so.

.
.

As she descended the stairs, her stomach growled. She set about making a simple meal, trying to distract herself from the morning's discomfort.

Shaurya appeared soon after, dressed sharply in a three-piece suit. His expression was stern and businesslike. Meera felt a pang of unease.

"Shaurya, breakfast is ready," she called out, trying to sound steady.

Shaurya glanced at her. She was dressed in one of his sweatshirts, which covered her knees. He stood still and unblinking, then cleared his throat before looking away.

"Hmm," he acknowledged, then walked over and took his seat at the dining table with an authoritative air. Meera began to serve him, her movements efficient but tense.

"What are you doing? Why are you just standing there?" Shaurya asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced up at her.

"I... Mom always stands beside Dad while he eats. I thought..." She trailed off, feeling foolish.

Shaurya rolled his eyes. "You don't need to do that here. Sit down and eat."

Meera blinked in surprise but quickly nodded and sat down across from him. The meal passed in silence, the clinking of cutlery the only sound. She forced herself to eat, though her appetite was minimal.

After breakfast, Shaurya wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned to her. "There are a few rules you need to follow as my wife."

Meera's stomach tightened with dread. She nodded slowly, bracing herself.

"First," Shaurya began, "you are responsible for cooking and looking after all my needs. Our room should be cleaned only by you. The maids won't touch our space."

Our room?

Our space?

Meera felt her heart sink.

"Second," he continued, "you will accept me as your husband. I will have all the rights of a husband over you."

His words sent a shiver down her spine.

"Third, you are not allowed to go anywhere without my permission."

Meera's throat tightened.

"Fourth," Shaurya's voice grew firmer, "forget the past. We will consummate this marriage in the near future. I expect you to be ready, both mentally and emotionally. While I'll allow you some time to adjust, don't mistake that for endless patience. I want an heir sooner rather than later, so be prepared."

Meera's breath hitched. The thought of being forced into intimacy with a man she barely knew terrified her. His words had made her feel like she was just there to give him heirs like she was some breeder. But wasn't this how all the women in her family had been treated?

She sighed, realizing that her life would likely follow the same path as her mother's and the other women in her family.

"And fifth," he concluded, his gaze darkening, "You're mine now. You belong to me and only me. Vikrant should hold no place in your mind or heart any longer."

His words hit her like a punch, but that was indeed a bitter truth. Vikrant wasn't hers anymore.

She instead asked another question

"W-when ca- can I join the university again?" she finally asked, her voice trembling.

Shaurya leaned in, his voice laced with contempt. "Why? So you can continue whoring around under the pretense of studying?"

Meera felt as though she'd been slapped. The sting of his insult cut deep.

Shaurya's voice was sharp and unyielding. "Bohot ho gya padhai likhai ka natak. Koi zarurat nahi hai university jaane ki. Ab se, tumhari sirf ek hi priority hogi—meri biwi ke tor pe apni duties ko sambhalna, mera or meri har cheez ka dhyaan rakhna, aur humare ghar ko sambhalna."

(You can forget about your studies. From now on, your only priority is to handle your duties as my wife, take care of me and manage our home .)

Meera stared at him, her heart breaking. This wasn't the life she had envisioned. Her dream of independence was crumbling before her eyes, and she felt powerless.

"But Vikrant allowed me to continue my studies. Why can't you?" she asked, only to immediately regret it as she saw Shaurya's jaw tighten.

Before she could comprehend anything. She felt his hand wrapped around her neck, in a bruising grip. Whimper of pain and fear escaped her mouth.

"Correct. Vikrant did, and we saw what a whore you became behind his back. I am not him. You better stop thinking about him like some home-wrecking slut. He is my Ishani's husband now. A married man. Do not cross your fucking limits by mentioning his name. In fact, I shouldn't hear any other man's name from this filthy mouth of yours. Got it?" Tears rolled down Meera's eyes but she nodded in fear.

"Now, what do we say for being so disrespectful to your husband and acting like a brat, especially when he is about to leave for work hmm? Speak" he hisses, tightening his grip on her neck even more.

"S-Sorry," Meera stammers.

Shaurya releases her throat with a jerk, making her stumble slightly. She greedily gulps in air.

Shaurya grabbed his briefcase, preparing to leave. His mood was already dark. "Whatever happened in the past is over. I've accepted this marriage, and you need to do the same."

Meera blinked back tears. She didn't want to show weakness, but inside, she felt shattered.

"I... I understand," she whispered sniffing.

"Good. Now, I have to leave for work. Make sure the house is in order when I return," Shaurya said before walking away, leaving Meera standing there, feeling more alone, her mind numb, her heart heavy. This was her reality now, and she would have to find a way to survive it, no matter how much it hurt.

Cya'll next Saturday ❤️