Pratham

Standing outside the kitchen, I lean sideways over the doorframe, watching Nitya inside, focused on preparing tea.

She doesn't notice me yet, and I continue taking her in. Her soft features, gentle movements, the way she is lightly humming while working-everything about her causes a rush of emotions for her to wash through me. A raw need arises within to hold her close and never let go.

Without another thought, I walk over, gently turn her around to face me, and wrap her in my arms.

She gasps a little, surprised, and I feel her hands come up against my chest, pressing lightly as if to ask what's going on.

"Did you have rough night with Bhaiyya?" She asks softly, trying to peek up at me.

I don't answer her, don't say anything, and just tighten my hold around her.

As her warmth seeps into me, I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. I remember everything Yash told me. About how her father tried to turn her marriage into a deal of profit for himself. A shudder passing through me as I realize if it had not been for Yash stepping in, she might have gotten married to Uday.

A part of me burns in anger at the thought of a father being so cruel to his own daughter, but what clenches my chest even tighter is the memory of what that Uday did to her.

When Yash told me earlier about Uday murdering his wife, a bout of fear had passed through me. That monster had held Nitya captive.

What if I hadn't found her in time? What if-

I shake my head, not wanting to complete that thought.

Kissing the top of Nitya's head, I hold her even closer to my chest, wanting to erase those dark thoughts altogether from my mind.

"Nitya," I finally whisper, my voice unsteady. "I love you and I'll always be with you. No matter what comes, I'll protect you from everything."

"What's the matter, Prathamji?" She asks, leaning back and looking at me. Her gaze searching my face. "Are you fine?"

I rest my forehead against hers, feeling my heart racing and clenching painfully as I recall everything she has suffered. "I just.... I want you to be happy, Nitya. Always. I want to love you, cherish you, never let any harm befall you. I love you so much."

Her hand comes up to cup my face, her thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. "I love you too, Prathamji," she says, her voice tender. "Do you want to tell me about it?" She asks, and I know the question is because she wants to know what brought this on.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," I reply, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Just needed to be with you after the harrowing night I spent with your brother."

The look on her face says she doesn't buy it, but she smiles nonetheless and hugs me. "I'm glad you survived the night. I was worried for both of you."

"It took a lot of willpower but I resisted the urge to kick him out. Just because I knew you and Dhriti would not have liked it," I tell her and she chuckles, shaking her head.

"Well, thank you for thinking about us then," she says, snuggling closer to me.

*****

Nitya

With the tray of tea in my hand along with an old photograph, I enter the living room, where everyone is seated, relaxed and chatting.

Setting the tray down on the table, I watch as all of them take a cup for themselves.

"Shrutiji," I begin after everyone is settled and drinking tea. "I found this photograph in the living room last night." I hand her the photo. "That young girl in there looked somewhat like you so I thought it might belong to you. Is that you in the photo with your parents and your sister perhaps?"

Shrutiji takes the picture from me and looks at it. She's a bit surprised, before her expression softens, sadness marring her features. She brushes her fingers over the worn edges of the photograph.

"This picture was taken sixteen years back, on my eighth birthday. My parents had taken me and my elder sister to the city fair that day," she says softly, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "They are my parents Anirudh and Kavita Verma and my elder sister An-"

Before Shrutiji can complete, the apartment's front door suddenly opens, and Maaji, Chachiji, Chachaji, and Dakshji enter inside, everyone wearing a stormy look on their faces.

"What are you all doing here?" Namanji asks them, confused due to their sudden arrival.

"We are here because my daughter was in danger and no one even bothered to inform me? How could you not tell me what happened to Dhriti?" Chachiji asks, glaring at Namanji.

She takes a step toward Dhritiji, as if to embrace her, but she steps back, raising her hand to stop her mother. "You don't need to show your fake concern for me."

Chachiji's eyes widen and her face hardens into an indignant frown. "What are you saying? I'm your mother, Dhriti. I care for you and worry about you."

Dhritiji lets out a mirthless laugh. "You care for me? Worry about me? Where was your care, your worry that time when you didn't want me in your life? When you tried to...," she trails off, swallowing hard, as if the words are too painful to say aloud.

"That's enough," Chachaji speaks up, his voice quieter but firm. "We are here to take you back to the village and you will come with us."

"Why should I come with you?" Dhritiji demands. "To get married to the man you chose for me? The man I don't even like?"

"What's this nonsense about liking or not liking someone before marriage?" Maaji interferes, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Everything will be settled and you'll start liking him after you get married. Just come home with us."

"Yeah right. Come with you and sacrifice my life just to show respect to your thoughtless decision of getting me married to a man who is practically a stranger to me? That's not happening, Taiji," Dhritiji says, her voice fierce and unyielding.

"Our daughter has started to rebel and it's all because of these two," Maaji says, glaring at Shrutiji and me. Her sharp gaze settles on me first, and she scoffs, crossing her arms. "It's because you have forgotten all respect for your elders and teaching Dhriti the same. That's why, she is behaving in such manner. Come here and touch my feet. Greet me properly so our daughter can also learn to respect her elders."

The sting from her words makes my heart pound as I recall all those other times when she demeaned me, made me cry. But today, I stand tall, refusing to waver or cower under her.

"No, Maaji. I won't do it," I tell her. "Because I have decided not to respect those who don't respect me."

Maaji stares at me, her mouth slightly opened, clearly stunned by what I said to her. After all, she's not used to me speaking to her like this.

After a moment, though, her shock morphs into anger.

"Shruti!" she barks, turning her steely glare to Shrutiji. "You are the elder daughter in law of the house. Although I never accepted you, the fact remains that you are Naman's wife. So, it's your duty to uphold our family's respect. It's your responsibility to teach Nitya how she should behave with her in-laws. Don't you think you should teach her some manners?"

Shrutiji nods. "You are right, Maaji," she says, her face composed and expression unreadable as she looks at me. "I think I need to say something to Nitya."

My pulse quickens as she walks toward me, and I wonder if she is going to side with Maaji.

But when she reaches me, she places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Well done, Nitya." She smiles at me. "I'm proud of you."

I smile back at Shrutiji, about to thank her, but Maaji shouts before I can say anything.

"How dare you, Shruti!" Maaji exclaims. "How can you-" She abruptly stops when Shrutiji gives her an icy stare.

"You seem to have forgotten a few things, Maaji," Shrutiji says with such a chilling calm that even makes my skin prickle. "Would you like a reminder?"

After a second of tense pause, Maaji gulps and turns away from Shrutiji, glaring at Namanji and Prathamji instead. "Have you two also completely lost your minds? Your wives are insulting your mother, and yet, you two remain silent?"

Prathamji gives her a weary look. "I had told you before too, Maa, that if you want respect, you'll need to earn it. If you want Nitya and Shruti bhabhi to respect you as their mother in law, you should also give them the respect of being your daughter in laws."

Namanji nods, agreeing with his brother. "You treated Shruti and Nitya like they were nothing, as if they'd never be good enough for you. After being so unfair to them, you can't expect them to be fair and respectful to you."

Maaji's face flushes as her gaze darts between her sons, a mix of anger and humiliation flickering over her features. After a few moments of silence, she opens her mouth to say something, but Chachiji speaks before she does.

"I've heard enough," Chachiji says, looking disappointedly at us. "It seems Nitya and Shruti are the ones corrupting my daughter's mind. I can't let her stay with these two." She then turns to her daughter. "You are returning village with us, Dhriti, and that's final."

"No," Dhritiji says, her voice strong and steady. "I'm not going back with you, and that's final."

"What about the marriage we arranged for you?" Chachaji demands, his voice rising in frustration. "What about the man who we have already chosen for you?"

Dhritiji looks at her father with a resolute expression on her face. "I won't marry that man because I love someone else."

"Who?" Chachiji demands, barely controlling her anger. "Who is it?"

Dhritiji turns to Yash bhaiyya. "I love him," she says with a small smile on her face, her eyes never leaving his. "Will you marry me, Yash?"

At her question, a collective gasp from all of us echoes in the room. We all watch as Bhaiyya crosses the room toward Dhritiji, the shock on his face quickly turning to a warm smile. He reaches for her hand and brings it closer to his heart. "I was about to propose to you myself," he tells her.

"Is that a yes?" Dhritiji asks, her voice teary.

"Yes, yes, and yes," Bhaiyya replies, his voice hoarse, too.

My eyes well up as I watch them, feeling so happy for them. They are about to hug each other, but before they can, Chachiji moves toward them and yanks Dhritiji away from Bhaiyya.

"Absolutely not," she snaps, fury blazing in her eyes. "You are not marrying Yash, Dhriti. I won't allow it."

"But it's already decided, Chachiji," Namanji speaks. His voice is low, unwavering, and laced with such an edge that it silences his aunt. "Dhriti loves Yash, and Pratham and I also trust him to keep her happy. That's all that matters."

"No, that can't-" Chachiji begins, but is cut off by Namanji.

"Do you have any objection, Chachaji?" He asks, turning to his uncle, his gaze so cold that it causes a shiver to run down my spine.

Chachaji also looks visibly nervous, his eyes flickering between his Namanji, Dhritiji, and Chachiji. "N-no. I've no objection," he says, his voice almost a whisper.

Chachiji still looks outraged, her lips pressed tightly together, preparing to argue. But Chachaji reaches over and places a hand on her arm, a clear warning in his eyes. She gives him a reluctant nod and stops herself from saying anything.

But then, Dakshji, who had been silent for all this time, steps forward and practically yells at Namanji. "You can't do this! My parents have full right to take decision for their daughter. You can't snatch it from them."

Namanji crosses his arms over his chest and speaks with a cold finality in his voice. "It's Dhriti's life and her marriage. She's the only one who can decide what's best for her, and I support her decision. I don't care if you have any problem with it."

"Yes," Prathamji adds. "Dhriti's happiness is all that matters for us, and we'll go against anyone, even her parents, to ensure it."

"I think it's better if you take him away," Namanji says to Chachaji, who quickly nods and grabs Dakshji's arm, pulling him out the door before he can say anything else.

Maaji and Chachiji exchange furious glances, as if unable to believe what's happening.

"You are making a grave mistake," Maaji hisses, her voice dripping with disdain.

Chachiji also casts a seething look at us. "You'll regret it. You all will."

With one last glare, the two of them storm out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind them.

*****

Yes, Shruti is Anirudh and Kavita's daughter. Kavita and Anirudh's story, 'Kavita's Submission', is available to read for free for my followers on Scrollstck (Username: Rinuesha).❤️