Story

πŠπ˜π€ πŒπ”π‰π‡π„ ππ˜π€π€π‘ π‡π€πˆ?

Story

πŠπ˜π€ πŒπ”π‰π‡π„ ππ˜π€π€π‘ π‡π€πˆ?

Marriage wasn't supposed to feel like this. For five months now, Abhira had been living in the same house, under the same roof, carrying the same surname as his wife-yet she still felt like a stranger in Dheer Ranawat's world. She was a advocate, young and determined, who had learnt to build herself again after losing her parents. He was an IPS officer, stern and disciplined, who had already locked away his emotions long before their forced marriage had even begun. On their wedding night, his voice had been steady, almost cold, when he told her, "Don't expect anything from this marriage. I don't have time for feelings, and my mind doesn't allow me to love." And since then, he kept his word. Every day she tried-small smiles, little gestures, quiet conversations that went unanswered. Every day he ignored, burying himself in work, in duty, in the walls he had built around his heart. To the world, they looked like husband and wife. To each other, they were just... coexisting. Yet, in the silence between them, in the unspoken words, in the way his eyes sometimes lingered on her before he turned away, and a question kept haunting both of them's heart: Kya mujhe pyaar hai...?

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π€πŠπ’π‡π•πˆπŸ§Ώ

𝑨 π’ˆπ’Šπ’“π’ π’˜π’‰π’ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 π’†π’Žπ’π’•π’Šπ’π’π’” π’…π’†π’†π’‘π’π’š, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’˜π’“π’Šπ’•π’†π’” π’˜π’‰π’‚π’• 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅.