The car ride was long, suffocating even.
Prithab leaned his head against the window, watching the trees blur past, his jaw clenched tight. He already knew what was waiting for him at home. His father’s strict gaze, his relatives’ fake enthusiasm. But most of all—his mother.
The woman who had barely spoken to him his whole life.
And yet, when he stepped into the house, the sight before him made his breath hitch.
His mother was there. Sitting beside his father, her hands folded neatly in her lap, looking at him as if he finally existed.
His father cleared his throat. “Prithab, sit down.”
He didn’t move. He couldn’t. His mother looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in years.
And then—she spoke.
“Beta.”
One word. Soft. Hesitant. But it shattered something inside him.
Flashback:
A child, no older than five, standing in the hallway, watching his mother walk past him as if he were invisible. He had tried everything—bringing her flowers, excelling in school, becoming everything a son should be. But she never looked at him the way she did his younger siblings.
Because in her eyes, he had taken something from her.
Her mother.
The woman she loved most had died just days after he was born. And from that moment, he was labeled as bad luck. A shadow in his own house.
Present:
Prithab swallowed hard, his fingers curling into fists.
His father’s voice was firm. “We’ve chosen a girl for you. A good match.”
His mother looked at him, waiting. Wanting something from him.
For the first time in his life.
His throat was dry when he spoke. “Fine.”
His mother’s lips parted slightly, as if she hadn’t expected him to agree.
Maybe he hadn’t expected it either.
______________
Meanwhile…
Ann sat stiffly in the living room, her parents’ voices blending together in an endless string of words.
“A good family.”
“A doctor, just like you.”
“They’re expecting an answer soon.”
She barely heard any of it.
Flashback:
Ann, seventeen, standing at the doorstep, her hands shaking as she held her medical school acceptance letter.
Her parents’ expressions?
Not happiness. Not pride.
Just disappointment.
"Medicine? Why, Ann? You could’ve chosen something easier. Something that doesn’t take you away from us."
She had fought for this. For every sleepless night, every exam, every grueling shift at the hospital.
And yet, even now, she wasn’t enough.
She had become the doctor they never wanted her to be.
And now, they wanted her to be the daughter they did want.
Obedient. Quiet. A good wife.
Present:
Ann exhaled slowly. “Okay.”
Her father smiled in relief. Her mother sighed, nodding approvingly.
It didn’t matter who he was.
She had said yes.
______________
But neither of them knew who they were about to marry.
And neither of them knew—this decision would change everything.
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