Future Ex Fiancée

THE HEARTBREAKER

Asmi~

The person you are trying to reach is not attending calls at the moment.

Sighing, I decided not to call Virat. He said he was busy with team meetings and practice. I should call only if it was really important. Was our engagement “important”? Maybe not.

I groaned, earning glances from colleagues. Another reason I wanted my own cabin—promotion. I pressed my lips into a polite smile and tried to focus on work, though my eyes kept drifting to my phone, hoping for a message from him. A week had passed since we’d talked properly. Our last planned movie date never happened. We were both too busy.

A small smile crept onto my lips thinking about our friendship. But tonight was our engagement, and my patience was wearing thin.

∆∆∆

“I missed you so much, Sanya!” I hugged my best friend tightly when I picked her up at the airport.

“Missed you too, Asmi,” she giggled, kissing my cheek. She had been living in Mumbai with her husband.

“Everything alright?” I asked. She knew something was wrong.

By evening, I was dressed in a lehenga with a black blouse. My sour mood was gone, replaced with excitement.

“Now you look beautiful,” Sanya commented. “Tell me, how does it feel to marry your crush, Ashvi?”

I laughed and playfully smacked her arm. “I’m happy for you,” she added softly. “Don’t let insecurities get in the way with Virat.” I nodded, feeling comforted.

Downstairs, my mother and Chara were busy with engagement preparations. My dad was stuck in Malaysia for work. Sanya and I left in my car.

“How’s married life, Sanya?” I asked as we drove.

“It’s amazing. Jeet is so sweet. I thought marriage would change him, but he didn’t.” A smile spread across my face—I was happy for her.

∆∆∆

Arriving at Virat’s house, I struggled with heavy gift boxes. Through the glass, I saw him talking to my mother, smiling broadly. My breath caught. He looked handsome in his off-white shirt, black pants, and grey jacket.

I tried to call out, but the door was closed. When he finally noticed, he opened it, took the boxes from my hands, and murmured, “Woah! That’s heavy.”

Inside, his home smelled warm and familiar. He asked me to wait a little. His usual confident smile seemed forced. My heart sank.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Asmi… I can’t—” he began, but was interrupted by Vikas and Saroj’s mom announcing the ring exchange.

Despite the awkwardness, when Virat slid the ring onto my finger, I shivered. Sliding his ring onto his finger brought a genuine smile to his face, and my hands shook less. It felt surreal—I was officially engaged.

∆∆∆

Later, Virat pulled me aside to the garden. His steps were fast, almost dragging me.

“Virat, slow down, please—my heels—” I protested. He stopped at a bench, and the chilly air brought goosebumps—not the cold, but the suspense.

“For a long time, I’ve meant to say this… Asmi, we can’t… I can’t marry you.”

The words hit like a blow. My world stopped. Virat’s tone was cold, his demeanor distant. The soft, kind man I knew was gone. He confessed he loved someone else and that this marriage was forced by his mother.

I felt my heart break into a billion pieces. I had started to like him—I was ready to accept him as my life partner.

“I hate you, Virat,” I whispered, gripping my wrist, holding back tears.

“I hate you too,” he replied.

∆∆∆

Sanya called me from inside. I washed my face, trying to regain composure before saying goodbye. My head ached, my heart heavier than ever. Saroj tried to cheer me up, but I was in no state to comprehend anything.

“Beta, are you feeling unwell?” she asked, touching my forehead.

“My head hurts, mom,” I admitted softly.

She called Virat, and obediently, he came running.

“Okay, I’ll take her home now,” he said, and my heart sank further.