The engagement had ended, but Ira felt far from celebrated. As her family rode silently back home, her thoughts were louder than ever.

Her mother avoided her eyes.

Back in her room, Ira quickly changed into a simple cotton kurta and was about to go confront her mother when, surprisingly, her mother knocked first.

"Ma? What’s going on? What was that back there? Why are you letting them decide everything for me again?" Ira's voice cracked.

Her mother stepped in slowly, her expression already worn down by helplessness.

"Ira... please sit. Let me explain."

Ira stayed standing.

"Tumhare papa... tum janti ho na kaise hai woh. Hamesha chup rehte hain. Na kabhi kuch kehte hain, na kisi baat pe rukawat banate hain. (Your father... you know how he is. Always quiet. Never says anything, never stands up for anything.)"

"Unki masoomiyat hi unki sabse badi kamzori ban chuki hai. (His innocence has become his biggest weakness.)"

Her mother sighed, brushing Ira's hair back like she used to when Ira was a child.

"I know you’re strong now. You’re independent. But Ira, some things… some battles we still can’t win."

Tears welled in Ira’s eyes.

"Why didn’t you say anything on stage? Why didn’t you stop them?"

"Kyunki Varun ka parivaar bura nahi hai. Wo log ache hain. Aur Varun bhi. (Because Varun's family isn't bad. They are good people. And so is Varun.)"

"Agar tumhare chachi aur dadi tumhare liye koi galat ladka chunte, toh sabse pehle main unke saamne khadi hoti. (If your aunt and grandmother had chosen someone wrong for you, I would have stood against them first.)"

"But this... I didn’t know it would be announced like this."

"But Ma, I said I’d think about it. I didn’t agree yet."

Her mother lowered her head. "I know. But sometimes, in families like ours, people don't wait. They just declare, assuming everyone will fall in line."

Ira wiped her tears aggressively.

"Kya main unke liye sirf ek zimmedaari hoon? Ek bojh? (Am I just a responsibility to them? A burden?)"

Her mother squeezed her hand. "Tu meri sabse badi taaqat hai, Ira. Bas... main har baar lad nahi sakti. (You are my biggest strength, Ira. I just... can't fight every time.)"

They sat together in silence for a moment.

Eventually, her mother left, quietly closing the door behind her.

Ira walked to her suitcase, pulled out an old, battered diary from beneath her clothes, and sat on the bed.

She opened it to a blank page.

Her pen trembled.

"Why me?" she wrote.

"Why is it always me? What wrong did I ever do? Why do the innocent always suffer, God? I thought I’d finally grown enough to write my own story... but even now, the pen is not in my hand.

Kya mujhe pyaar milne ka haq nahi? (Do I not deserve love?)

Tears dropped onto the paper, smudging the ink. Page after page in the diary held pieces of her — her childhood anxiety, her teenage loneliness, her emotional bruises that nobody ever noticed. And now this.

---

Far away, Reyansh drove aimlessly through the quiet streets of the city. The engagement crowd, the lights, the music — all of it had blurred in his mind.

He finally parked near a silent stretch by the river. No people. Just city lights in the distance and his own thoughts.

Why am I so angry?

Why did I clench my jaw every time Varun touched her arm?

Why did her eyes keep haunting me even after she walked away?

He leaned back in the car seat, covering his face with his palms.

And then— a tear escaped.

He didn't realize it until he tasted salt on his lips.

"Yeh kya ho raha hai mujhe? (What is happening to me?)" he whispered.

And his heart answered.

Am I in love with her?

He snapped up, almost gasping at the thought.

"Nahi. Reyansh Khanna firse pyaar nahi kar sakta. (No. Reyansh Khanna can't fall in love again.) Not after... her."

Love once broke me so badly, I had to build new walls just to stand again.

He clenched the steering wheel, forcing his breath to slow down.

"If this is love... then I can't let it happen. No."

But his heart?

It had already begun to betray him.