Chapter 10
1009 Words
Ishita's POV
The small apartment was unusually quiet.
Unlike the grand Kapoor Mansion with its marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and endless servants, this place felt dull and lifeless.
The walls were beginning to peel.
The ceiling fan made an irritating creaking sound every few seconds.
Outside, the noises of traffic drifted through the half open window.
Ishita sat alone on the worn out sofa, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.
A few days had passed since she had run away from her wedding.
Only a few days...
Yet it already felt like months.
When she had eloped with Baru, she imagined a life filled with freedom.
No controlling parents.
No arranged marriage.
No responsibilities.
She had believed love alone would make her happy.
Well she was happy for the first few days after their marriage but not exactly what she imagined and planned .
Reality, however, had been far different.
Every morning she woke to unpaid bills.
Every afternoon Baru disappeared, claiming he was searching for work.
Every evening he returned smelling of cheap perfume and excuses, promising that tomorrow everything would change.
But tomorrow never came.
The front door suddenly opened.
"Ishita!"
Baru walked inside with a broad smile, throwing himself onto the sofa beside her.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
He stretched before turning to her with pleading eyes.
"I need a small favor."
Ishita already knew what was coming.
"What is it?"
"I met someone today."
"He wants to start a transport business."
"If I invest now, we'll make double the money within a few months."
He smiled confidently.
"This is our chance."
Ishita looked at him quietly.
She had heard similar promises before.
Last week it had been a clothing business.
Before that, it had been electronics.
Every plan ended the same way.
The money disappeared.
And Baru always returned home drunk.
She wasn't foolish.
She knew exactly where the money went.
Drinking.
Gambling.
And empty dreams.
Still...
He was her husband.
She opened her handbag and counted a few notes before placing them in his hand.
"This is the last time."
Baru's face lit up instantly.
"I knew you trusted me."
He quickly kissed her forehead.
"I'll be back before evening."
Without another word, he hurried out.
The door closed behind him.
Silence filled the apartment once again.
Ishita leaned back against the sofa.
For the first time since leaving home...
She felt completely alone.
Trying to distract herself, she unlocked her phone and opened social media.
Friends had posted dozens of photographs from the Kapoor wedding.
Curious, she tapped one of them.
Her smile disappeared.
The screen showed Ranbir standing beneath the wedding canopy in an elegant ivory sherwani.
Beside him stood a bride dressed in crimson.
The caption beneath the picture read:
"Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Ranbir Kapoor. Wishing the beautiful couple a lifetime of happiness."
Confused, Ishita zoomed in.
Her breathing stopped.
"No..."
She whispered.
"No..."
The bride wasn't a stranger.
It wasn't another girl chosen by the Kapoor family.
It was...
Preeta.
Her own sister.
The phone slipped from her trembling hands onto the floor.
"No!"
She shot to her feet.
"How could this happen?"
Her voice echoed through the tiny apartment.
"How?"
"How did Preeta marry Ranbir?"
"That was supposed to be my wedding!"
"My life!"
"My future!"
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and dialed her mother's number.
After a few rings, Sunita answered.
"Ishita?"
"Mum!"
"What happened?"
"How could you let this happen?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I just saw the wedding photographs!"
"You let Preeta marry Ranbir!"
There was silence on the other end.
Then Sunita sighed heavily.
"What did you expect us to do?"
"You disappeared on your wedding day."
"You humiliated the Kapoor family."
"You nearly destroyed your father's reputation."
Ishita's eyes filled with angry tears.
"You should have stopped the wedding!"
"And disgrace your father in front of the entire country?"
Sunita snapped.
"The media was outside."
"The Kapoor family was already seated."
"The priest had announced the auspicious hour."
"We had no choice."
Ishita clenched her fists.
"You still could have cancelled it."
Sunita's voice suddenly became cold.
"No."
"I would never allow that son of a witch to take my daughter's place."
Ishita frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"If the wedding had been cancelled, people would have started asking questions."
"They would have spread rumors."
"Your father would have lost everything."
"Preeta saved this family."
Those words irritated Ishita even more.
"So now she's the heroine?"
"No."
"She simply did what had to be done."
A heavy silence followed.
Finally, Sunita spoke more gently.
"Enough about that."
"Tell me..."
"How are you?"
"How is Baru?"
Ishita looked around the shabby apartment.
The cracked walls.
The old furniture.
The empty kitchen.
For a moment...
She considered telling her mother the truth.
That Baru spent more time drinking than working.
That he constantly asked her for money.
That she already regretted running away.
But her pride refused to let her.
She forced a smile, even though her mother couldn't see it.
"I'm fine, Mum."
"Baru is taking good care of me."
"We're both happy."
Sunita sounded relieved.
"That's good."
"No matter what happened..."
"You'll always be my daughter."
"If you ever need anything..."
"Call me."
"I will."
They spoke for a few more minutes before ending the call.
The apartment fell silent once more.
Ishita slowly picked up her phone.
Once again...
She looked at the wedding photograph.
Preeta stood beside Ranbir, wearing the mangalsutra that should have been hers.
Guests smiled around them.
The Kapoor family looked proud.
Everything she had willingly abandoned...
Now belonged to someone else.
A strange feeling settled inside her heart.
Not sadness.
Not guilt.
Jealousy.
She tightened her grip around the phone until her knuckles turned white.
"No, Preeta..."
She whispered.
"You may have married Ranbir..."
"But this isn't over."
"I'll take back everything that should have been mine."
A slow smile spread across her face.
And for the first time...
The seed of revenge took root in her heart.
- Writer
