Destined to Be Yours

The echo of Mr. Malhotra's harsh words still lingered in Shourya's mind as he sat in the dimly lit study. His world seemed to spiral out of control—his business partnership was broken, his emotions were a storm he couldn't calm, and now his phone buzzed, pulling him out of his chaotic thoughts.

He glanced at the screen. My Love. His heart clenched.

Taking a deep breath, he answered.

"Shourya," Meera's voice was sharp, trembling with anger. "What is this I hear about your marriage? Is it true? Did you really marry someone else?"

"Meera, please..." he began, his voice low and uncertain.

"Don't 'please' me!" she snapped, her fury barely contained. "How could you, Shourya? After everything between us? How could you throw it all away without even telling me?"

Her words struck a chord deep within him. The pain in her voice mirrored the turmoil in his heart. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Meera," he said, his voice breaking. "I didn't have a choice."

"You didn't have a choice?" she echoed bitterly. "You always have a choice, Shourya. But you didn't choose me. You threw me away like I was nothing."

"No, Meera," he whispered, guilt washing over him. "You meant everything to me."

"Then why?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Why, Shourya?!"

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."

There was a pause—a heavy, agonizing silence. Then, Meera let out a bitter laugh. "Sorry? That's all you have to say? Goodbye, Shourya."

The line went dead.

"Meera... I'm sorry!" Shourya cried out, his voice filled with anguish. He clutched his phone tightly, as if holding on to the fragments of what they once had. "Meera!" he shouted again, his voice breaking into the silence of the room.

The sound carried down the hall, reaching Vedha, who had been passing by. Startled by the pain in his voice, she hesitated before stepping into the room.

"Shourya?" she called softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Shourya didn't respond. His gaze was distant, lost in the memories of Meera. Without realizing it, he reached out and took Vedha's hand.

"Meera," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "Forgive me. I'm so sorry. Please..."

Vedha froze. His touch was gentle, but his words cut deep. Her heart sank as she realized he wasn't even seeing her.

"Shourya," she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's me, Vedha. Your wife."

The words snapped him out of his trance. He blinked, focusing on her, and his expression darkened. He let go of her hand abruptly, his eyes narrowing.

"Wife?" he said, his voice filled with scorn. "You're not my wife. Don't ever call yourself that."

Vedha flinched, his words hitting her like a blow. "Shourya... why are you saying this?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Why?" he said coldly, his tone laced with anger. "Because you're greedy, Vedha. You and your brother trapped me in this sham of a marriage for your selfish reasons. Do you think I don't see it? The hunger for power, for wealth, written all over your faces?"

Vedha's lips parted to speak, but no words came. Confusion flickered in her tear-filled eyes. She didn't know how to respond to his accusations—she didn't understand them.

Shourya mistook her silence for guilt. His jaw tightened. "You wanted this marriage, Vedha. Admit it. You thought you could take everything from me—my name, my life, my happiness—and make it yours. But let me tell you something: you will never have my heart."

Vedha stood frozen, her silence speaking volumes. She didn't know how to defend herself against his anger or his assumptions. Her confusion and hurt swirled together, leaving her paralyzed.

Shourya stepped closer, his tone cutting through the air like ice. "You've ruined everything, Vedha. My life, my peace, my happiness—all of it. You will never be my wife. You mean nothing to me."

Her tears fell silently as the weight of his words settled over her. She turned and stumbled out of the room, her chest heaving with silent sobs. She felt broken, shattered by his accusations and unable to explain the truth even to herself.

Back in her room, Vedha collapsed onto the bed, clutching her chest as if to hold her breaking heart together. The tears came in waves, uncontrollable and raw. "Why?" she whispered to the emptiness. "Why does it hurt so much?"