The engagement was nothing short of a grand spectacle. It was an event drenched in pride, extravagance, and boundless wealth. The hall shimmered under the glow of golden chandeliers, and every guest in attendance was left stunned by the sheer opulence displayed. Money flowed like water, from the custom-designed floral arrangements to the imported champagne, but nothing was as breathtaking as the engagement rings.
When the time came for the ring exchange, all eyes turned to the couple at the center of the mandap. Shanaya Aggarwal held her head high, a smirk of satisfaction on her lips as she slid the diamond ring onto Agastya Raichand’s hand. Her eyes gleamed with triumph—this was everything she had ever wanted. A man who was rich, powerful, and belonged to her. She felt a surge of pride, knowing she had secured the most eligible bachelor.
But Agastya?
His face remained unreadable as he took her delicate hand in his, picking up the ring meant for her. His gaze, however, was not on Shanaya. It never truly had been.
It was on Siya.
As he slowly slid the ring onto Shanaya’s finger, his dark, piercing eyes never left the girl who stood a few feet away, trying desperately to hide her emotions behind a forced smile. She looked away, her hands clenched at her sides, trying to swallow the pain rising in her chest. But the moment Agastya’s fingers brushed against Shanaya’s, Siya could take it no more.
She turned abruptly, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and walked out of the hall, her dupatta trailing behind her as she disappeared through the grand doors.
And Agastya saw everything.
He saw the way her shoulders trembled, the way she clenched her fists, the way she ran—as if escaping something far more painful than she could bear.
And it satisfied him.
His jaw clenched, his fingers curled into a fist, his mind registering an unfamiliar sensation deep within him. A victory. But also, something else. Something he refused to acknowledge.
As family members and guests came forward, congratulating the newly engaged couple, Agastya accepted the wishes with a polite nod, his expressions giving away nothing. But one absence gnawed at him—Siya’s.
And he hated the way it bothered him.
---
Amidst the joyous celebrations, two of the most influential men in the room stood face to face.
Athiraj Khatri, the head of the Khatri empire and father of Agastya, walked over to Shekhar Aggarwal and his wife, Seema Aggarwal. With his usual air of power and authority, he extended his hand toward Shekhar, offering a formal yet firm handshake.
"Mubarak ho, Shekhar ji. Aaj aapki beti ne sach mein ek naye mukaam ko chhua hai." (Congratulations, Shekhar ji. Today, your daughter has truly reached a new milestone.)
Shekhar Aggarwal smiled with pride, gripping Athiraj’s hand firmly.
"Aapke bete ki wajah se, Athiraj ji. Humein khushi hai ki Agastya jaise beta hamari beti ki zindagi mein aaya hai." (Thanks to your son, Athiraj ji. We are happy that a man like Agastya has come into our daughter’s life.)
Seema Aggarwal, standing beside her husband, added with a warm smile, "Agastya ek perfect life partner hai. Hum toh bas dua karte hain ki dono hamesha khush rahein." (Agastya is the perfect life partner. We only pray that they always remain happy together.)
Athiraj nodded, his sharp gaze scanning the hall. He was a man of few words, but his presence alone commanded respect.
"Khush toh rahenge hi. Jab rishta sirf mohabbat ka na ho, balki taqat ka bhi ho, toh safalta toh tay hoti hai." (They will be happy. When a relationship isn’t just built on love but also power, success is inevitable.)
Their conversation was filled with pride, assurance, and power. None of them realized that somewhere in that very hall, a fragile heart was breaking.
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On the terrace, under the vast night sky, Siya sat curled up, her body trembling from the weight of her emotions. The cold wind brushed against her skin, but nothing could compare to the icy numbness settling in her heart. Her eyes, swollen and red from endless tears, gazed up at the cloudy sky, searching for solace in the distant stars. Her nose burned from crying, and her chest ached with an unbearable heaviness.
She whispered to herself, her voice broken, barely above a whisper,
"I don’t deserve this… Main uss insaan ke liye nahi ro sakti jo meri fikar tak nahi karta… but this heart…" She clutched her chest, as if trying to physically hold together the pieces of her shattered soul. "How much more am I supposed to endure? Why me?"
Her voice cracked as she let out a bitter laugh, filled with nothing but pain.
"Just because I’m poor? Just because I belong to a middle-class family?" she choked out, shaking her head in disbelief.
Her thoughts spiraled back to the past, to the moment when her downfall had begun. The weight of that one mistake, that one choice, crushed her every single day.
"I can never forget… the day my destruction began," she whispered, her fingers curling into fists against her lap.
She was murmuring, her words slipping through trembling lips, breaking with every syllable. But as she spoke, her body gave up on holding back the pain.
She collapsed onto her knees, her hands gripping her shoulders as if trying to hold herself together. Resting her forehead against her knees, she sobbed—raw, silent, and helpless.
And through her sobs, only one broken plea kept escaping her lips, over and over again—
"Ek galti ki saza itni badi nahi mil sakti… nahi mil sakti mujhe…" (One mistake shouldn't come with a punishment this cruel… it shouldn't… it shouldn't…)
But no one was there to listen.
Except the stars, and the cruel fate that refused to show her mercy.
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