Future Ex Fiancée

Giddiness filled my chest as I sat on the couch. Today was the day—I was about to be betrothed. And to someone I truly liked. “Asmi.” His voice—familiar, electrifying. But why my full name now? “Hey,” I said, forcing a smile. “Come to the garden. I need to talk.” He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes dark with anger and confusion. Shouldn’t he be happy? We were engaged. He grabbed my hand, leading me to a bench. “I have to tell you something,” he said. “I know. What is it?” “I’m afraid we have to call off the wedding.” My heart stopped. “What? Why?” He closed his eyes, sighed. “I don’t like you, Ashvi. I’m doing this only because Ma asked. I’ve always loved someone else.” The words cut through me like ice. I don’t like you. I love someone else. Tears stung. “Then why agree to this marriage?” I choked out. “Because Ma wanted it,” he snapped, avoiding my gaze. “Within a month, I’ll convince her we’re incompatible. Then we go our separate ways.” Everything spun. He was cold, calculated, heartless. I bit my lip. The words escaped anyway. “I hate you, Virat .” I ran, tears blurring my vision, my world shattered. “I hate you too,” he called after me, and that was it.